Chapter 19: Blurred Lines

Elena's POV

Three days at the Plaza and Marcus has visited every single day, always bringing something for Julian.

Today he calls with a different kind of invitation.

"Come to my place for dinner," his voice is warm through the phone.

 "I want to cook for you and Julian, real food, not hotel room service."

"Marcus, I don't know," I say, watching Julian play with his dinosaurs.

"Is that appropriate?"

"It's just dinner, Elena," he says gently, "friends having dinner, nothing more, unless you want it to be more."

My heart does this flip at those last words.

 "What does that mean?"

"It means I care about you," Marcus says, "and I think you care about me too, but we can talk about that later, right now I just want to feed you both a home cooked meal."

I know I should say no but I'm so tired of living by Alexander's rules.

 "Okay, what time?"

Marcus's house is forty minutes outside the city, smaller than any of Alexander's properties but so much warmer.

There are actual photos on the walls, books on shelves that look read, furniture that seems comfortable instead of expensive.

"Welcome," Marcus opens the door with flour on his hands.

"Sorry, I'm in the middle of making pasta from scratch."

"You make pasta from scratch?" I ask, surprised.

"My grandmother taught me," he smiles.

 Come in, make yourselves at home.

Julian runs in exploring everything and Marcus doesn't tell him to be careful, just lets him be a kid.

"I bought this place after my divorce," Marcus leads me to the kitchen…

…wanted something that felt like home, not a showpiece, you know?

I do know, I've lived in showpieces my entire marriage.

Marcus puts me to work chopping vegetables while he rolls out pasta dough.

 Julian playing with toy cars Marcus keeps for his nephew, the domesticity of it feels strange and wonderful.

"Tell me about your ex wife," I say, cutting tomatoes.

Marcus is quiet for a moment, his hands working the dough.

"We met in college, married too young, I thought if I worked hard enough, made enough money, she'd be happy, but she wanted the image of a successful husband, not the actual person."

"What do you mean?"

"She wanted me at all the right parties, saying the right things, looking successful," he says, "but when I came home tired, when I wanted to just be myself, she had no interest.

 I was a prop in her life, not a partner.

My throat tightens because that's exactly how I feel with Alexander, "I understand that, feeling like you're performing instead of living.

Marcus looks up at me and something passes between us…

 "You deserve better than that, Elena."

Dinner is pasta with homemade sauce.

 Julian eats like he's starving, talking with his mouth full and Marcus listens to every word, making silly faces that send Julian into giggles.

After dinner we move to the couch, Julian curled up between us watching cartoons.

The ease of it is almost painful, this is what family should feel like.

Julian's eyes start drooping halfway through, "Someone's tired," Marcus says softly.

"It's been a long day for him," I stroke Julian's hair.

"You can put him down in the guest room if you want," Marcus offers.

Let him sleep while we talk.

I carry Julian upstairs, tuck him into a cozy bed and he barely stirs.

When I come back down Marcus has poured wine.

"He's a great kid, Elena," Marcus hands me a glass, "you've done an amazing job with him."

We sit on the couch and the conversation shifts, getting deeper, more personal with each sip of wine.

"The air between us changes, charged with something dangerous…something I know I should run from but cant.

"Marcus," I start to say but he's moving closer.

"You deserve to be happy, Elena," his hand cups my face gently.

You deserve to be seen, to be valued, to be loved."

He leans in and I know what's about to happen, I should pull away, should stop this, should remember I'm married, but I'm frozen, caught between guilt and longing.

His lips are inches from mine when Julian's voice cuts through, "Mama, I'm sleepy."

The spell breaks, I jump back like I've been burned, Marcus pulling away immediately…

Julian is standing at the stairs rubbing his eyes, confused.

"I'm here baby," I rush to him, grateful and devastated all at once.

Let's go home okay?

"I'm sorry," Marcus says, running his hand through his hair, "that was inappropriate, I shouldn't have." 

You are married and I just…

"Don't," I say, gathering Julian and our things, my hands shaking…

 "I need to go."

Marcus walks us to the car, the tension thick and unresolved.

"Elena," Marcus says before I can get in, "I meant what I said, you deserve better than what you have, better than a man who kicks you out, who ignores his son."

I can't find words so I just nod, buckle Julian into the car seat and drive away.

My heart pounding so hard I think it might break through my chest.

The drive back is silent except for Julian's soft snoring.

My mind racing with what almost happened, what I almost let happen.

What I almost let happen , what part of me still still wants to happen.

My phone is buzzing non stop in my purse, I ignore it until we get back to the hotel, until Julian is tucked into bed, then I finally look.

Seventeen missed calls from Alexander, my stomach drops as I scroll through.

 Then I see the text…

I know where you were tonight, we need to talk, tomorrow, my office, this ends now.