| Chapter 9

Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.

“Because this is the last wedding gown I’m ever going to wear, Mr. Hiddleston,” you said to the empty room. Suddenly remembering you had a lunch date with your

fiancé, you looked down at your diamond encrusted watch to see that you were late. “Oh, shit.”

You dumped a few magazines into your oversized bag, slipping into a pair of matching Louboutin pumps. Heading out the door, you sent a text to Thomas as the elevator carried you downstairs.

{On my way!! Distracted by a pile of gowns.}

{I’m sure whatever you choose will look lovely on the floor of our honeymoon suite.}

You arrived at Thomas’s office, strutting through the door. As soon as you realized the reception area was completely empty, an idea occurred to you. You unbuttoned your silk top, baring your black lace bra. With your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath in as you pushed the door wide open, striking a pose in the door frame.

“Hello, lover.”

It was only then that you noticed Thomas’s assistant sitting across the desk from him, getting redder by the second. You rushed to close your top as Thomas tried to hide his laughter.

“Are you speaking to me or Miss Trevor?” he spoke between giggles.

“Thomas, really!” you said as his assistant tried to squeeze past you in the doorway, desperate to leave the room. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really! We were finished,” she said, closing the door in a hurry.

You turn to Thomas, whose head was still in his hands, trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“On the contrary, my love. You always make an impression,” he said, finally composing himself enough to stand and pull out a chair for you. “Actually, it was probably good that this happened.”

You couldn’t possibly fathom how anything even remotely positive could come from your own embarrassment. “Care to explain?”

“Well, Clara has always been a bit frightened of you.” A puzzled look fell over your face. “My assistant…” Thomas added. “You’ve been here how many times and you don’t even know her name?”

“Well! She’s so quiet. She practically runs away every time I’m here,” you said, motioning to what just happened in the doorway.

“Maybe she didn’t like your bra,” Thomas teased. “You know, she could probably help us out with some wedding planning. She’s truly remarkable when it comes to research. I could tell her what we’re looking for in a venue, and she could find it within the hour.”

“Really?” Your interest was piqued. Everything had been going to smoothly until you and Thomas started looking for a venue. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sure what you even wanted. “Do you think she would?”

“I don’t see why not. You don’t want to hire a wedding planner, so maybe this could be a solution. Just a little help when necessary.”

“I told you, Thomas, I’m not handing our day over to anyone. It’s what I’ve always done in the past, but I want to be more involved this time.” You weren’t a superstitious woman, but if three weddings coordinated by event planners had ended in divorce, you were willing to do the work yourself if it meant you and Thomas could live happily ever after. “I have to admit, I could use the help, though.”

“Why don’t you go to lunch together? I have some briefings to catch up on before my appointments this afternoon anyway. Get to know each other, talk about the wedding, see how it goes,” he said, reaching into his wallet.

“But I was looking forward to lunch with you,” you said, taking the credit card from Thomas’s grasp as you sat down on his lap. You took his curls between your fingers, expressing your displeasure with a firm tug.

“You better go before I have you right here on my desk,” said Thomas.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered into his ear before setting off for the door. Looking back, you saw Thomas licking his lips, watching your every move. You strolled to the door, swaying your hips along the way. With a wink and a kiss, you were gone.

You sat on your balcony, sipping a glass of merlot as you waited for Thomas to come home. You knew when you left that you’d be in for an interesting night – you had seen that look in his eyes only once before. It had been the start of your longest, most passionate sex to date. Just thinking about it got your heart racing.

{There in 5. Wait for me in the bedroom.}

You tipped your wine glass back as you walked into the apartment. You left the empty glass on the dining room table and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the bed. You sat stark naked on the bed as you heard Thomas’s keys in the door. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas sauntered into the bedroom, a glass of ice water in his hand. He placed it on the nightstand before he finally spoke.

“Would you like to try something new tonight?” he asked.

“Of course,” you replied. In the time you’ve been together, Thomas has introduced you to a great number of things you’d never tried before. Indian food. Ice skating. Vibrating panties. The look in his eyes told you this was not the night to be timid.

Never breaking eye contact, Thomas slowly undid his tie. The room was silent save for the faint sound of fabric sliding against itself. Finally, he yanked the tie from around his collar, sending a whipping sound through the air, giving you goosebumps.

“Cover your eyes,” Thomas said, tossing the tie onto your lap. You pick it up, turning over in your hands as you contemplated complying. You could say no. Toss it onto the floor and let him spank you a few times for refusing. You always enjoyed that. What would happen if you put on the blindfold, you didn’t know – but you wanted to.

Carefully, you tie the fabric around your head, knotting it tightly in the back. You listened closely for any clues as to what would come next.

“Lie on your back,” he instructed. You leaned back on your elbows, scooting yourself to the center of the bed. You lay on your back, perfectly still, unsure of what to expect next. Just then, you felt Thomas brush his hand against your thigh. He gently massaged every muscle in each of your legs, the stress of the day slowly melting away. Finally, to your relief, his fingers slipped between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” said Thomas in a low growl. You did as you were told, sliding your heels across the satin sheets. “Bend your knees. I want to see all of you.”

Your damp skin was cold as your lips spread apart. There was no hiding your desire any longer. Unable to see anything but darkness, your other senses were hyper-aware. The cold air breezing across your center, the subtle scent of Thomas’s cologne, the soft padding of his footsteps to the nightstand to take a drink. Your breath clutched in your chest as you heard him climb onto the bed. You felt the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, yet not so much as a single breath on your skin.

His arms wrap around your thighs as he settles in on his elbows. It took you a moment to comprehend what happened next – a freezing cold surface passed over your labia, sending ice through your veins. Thomas let the cube slide from between his lips onto the top of your mound. You try to wiggle it away, but Thomas was holding you perfectly still. Droplets melted from your warmth, sliding into the folds of your center. That’s when he started to blow – as if the ice-cold water wasn’t chilling enough on its own. Your pearl tingled; your legs quivered.

“Thomas…” you gasped.

His long tongue flickered over your center before replying. “Yes?”

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you said.

“I’m counting on it.” Your words were like fuel on his fire. His appetite was ravenous; he lapped up your desire, savoring the sweet juices. He squeezed tight on your curves every time you let out a moan, leaving marks wherever he touched. He wanted you to wake up tomorrow knowing exactly who you belonged to.

“Thomas, please…” you begged for your release.
Every time he felt you approaching climax, he stopped. The past hour was absolute torture – and you were loving every minute of it.

“Not now, darling,” he said, pulling the tie from your face. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Thomas got to his knees, unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the floor. You watch as he undoes his belt, then the button on his pants. He finally reaches the zipper, his solid erection eager to escape. He tried wriggling out of his trousers, but his anticipation got the better of him.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said as he leaned over your body, pressing himself into you. You gasped for air as if you’d been held underwater, finally free. He filled you, consumed you, made you feel whole. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure spread through your body – but Thomas took your chin in his hand, directing you to face him straight on.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You did as you were told, not daring to break eye contact for even a moment. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding you tight as he thrusted hard and slow. You moaned every time he slammed into you, crying out for more as he took his time sliding back out. Then, with a quick jerk of his hips, he’d slam right back in.

Your body writhed with agony. Your hands were everywhere – through your hair, cupping your breasts, tugging on the sheets. Thomas himself was just out of reach, slick with sweat, his curls clinging to his forehead. He looked around, finding the tie he had tossed to the side. He took your wrists into his hands, pinning them above your head as he tied them tightly to the headboard.

“If you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He kissed your forehead as his pace evened out; he moved to your lips, demanding deep, slow kisses as he swirled his hips into yours. You knew exactly what he wanted; you opened your mouth to him, taking in his warm, slick tongue. You were tempted to bite it, but that was no way to earn your finish.

He kissed longer and deeper as he felt your walls tightening around him. You moaned beneath the pressure of his lips, longing to break free. Finally, your pleasure peaked, your legs shaking against Thomas’s bare, slick torso. He finally pulled away from the kiss, wanting to watch as you come undone – as you screamed his name. You twist and tremble beneath him, warm satisfaction spreading from your curled toes to your limp wrists.

“You’re a very good girl,” Thomas said as he kissed your forehead, still inside you. He released you from the headboard, and not a moment too soon.

“You’re a very bad boy,” you said. You pushed him onto his back, ready to take back your power. Thomas watched as you got to your knees between his legs; you looked directly into his eyes as you took him into your mouth, and this time it was he who didn’t dare look away.

You cover every inch of him, engulfing his length in the warmth of your mouth. A deep, growling moan escaped his throat as he quickly reached the point of no return. His fists closed around the loose sheets, and while you briefly consider denying him his finish, you know he earned it. He always did.

You didn’t leave a trace of his essence behind. You kiss a sweet, slow trail up Thomas’s body, finding your place by his side. You lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling as your bodies come down from their highs. You looked over at Thomas, watching his chest rise and fall. You glanced further up to see his deep blue eyes staring back at you.

“You’re going to be an incredible wife.”

💖

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Imagine Tom showing you the town where he grew up. He takes you to all his favorite hangouts, even helping you climb into a tree-house he and his dad built together when he was a boy. He told you stories about hiding out there when his mum was angry with him, and how he loved to play prince charming – rushing in as the valiant knight to save the princess from a fiery dragon. You point out that that’s exactly what he’s done for you – he’s the real-life prince charming who swooped into your life, forever changing it for the better. He takes a moment to compose himself before kissing you, softly and sweetly. You’re his daily reminder that all of his dreams really have come true.

Imagine coming home to find your husband, Thomas, in complete disarray. The kitchen is an absolute disaster – there’s cake batter from the ceiling, down the cabinets, and all over the apron that clearly wasn’t doing him much good at this point. With a look of complete exasperation, he confessed he was trying to bake you a cake for your birthday, but nothing ever made it to the oven. With a kiss on the forehead, he leaps upstairs to get cleaned up; in a few moments, you’re off to the bakery to acquire a cake from the professionals.

Requested by @winterysoldiery ❤

Blind Side – Chapter 3

Intro | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

You stood alone in your closet, wearing nothing but a silk
dressing robe, surrounded by outfits and accessories for every occasion.
Flowing gowns, skin-tight workout gear, mix-and-match business attire, and a
ski suit you wore for all of five minutes – you’d honestly rather freeze than
look like a walking marshmallow. You never thought this day would come, but
here you are. Hundreds of options, and nothing to wear.

Your closet alone was the size of most New York apartments. As you
stood at the door, to your right and left were double tiers of hanging clothes
of all kinds, sorted first by color then length. Surrounding the door were
cubbies filled with designer shoes, mostly pumps with at least a 4-inch heel. At
5 feet, 3 inches tall, there’s no way you’d be caught dead in flats. You wander
to the marble island in the middle of the room, wherein lies your delicates and
various accessories. Even if you don’t know what to wear, you can at least
decide on lingerie. You pick up a pure white lace bra with matching boyshort
panties. First decision, made. Simple. Now for the rest…

It wasn’t your fault this was so difficult. Thomas hadn’t told you
where he’d be taking you. You’d called the other night, just as he instructed, and you agreed he could take
you on a date. A day date. Nothing serious. The only problem was, he’d left out
all the other details. He said you could use a good surprise, which was
honestly so annoying. You’re a planner, for this reason exactly – if you didn’t
know where you were going, how could you possibly choose what to wear?

“Wear
something you can move in.” What does that even mean?

Athletic shirt and yoga pants? You could certainly move in it, but
it’s inappropriate for a date. Mini skirt – too risky. Although he did seem to enjoy it in his office the other day. Strappy
sundress? That could work. It’s nice
enough for a day date, but even if he had you riding bikes, god forbid, it’s
long enough to cover what you need covered. Perfect.

You throw it on and walk to the other end of the closet. Surrounded
by bright lights and three full-length mirrors, you check your look from every
angle to make sure it’s perfect. You’re good to go, and not a moment too soon.
Just as you’re grabbing your favorite wedges, you hear the doorbell. That must
be Thomas.

Riding in his Jaguar, you feel the most comfortable you’ve felt
with him since this whole thing
started. He came to your door to pick you up, still not mentioning where you
were off to. But he did open the car door for you, which was basically a
requirement in your book. You’d never taken the time to notice what a gentleman
he was.

Even the way he drove put you at ease. A little fast, sure; he
glided in and out of the left lane, passing anyone that came along. But as fast
as he was going, he wasn’t aggressive. Just… assertive. He made his presence
known, but didn’t threaten you with it. That had certainly been your experience
with him. A sharp dressed man who didn’t lack confidence, and had no qualms
about telling you what to do. Still, you didn’t doubt he would back off as soon
he got the feeling you weren’t interested. The fact remained that you were,
indeed, very interested.

“Do you have any guesses as to where we’re going?” he asked.

You looked around, noticing that you were moving further and
further away from the city. Skyscrapers were quickly turning to suburbs.

“Well… we’re obviously leaving the city. You said I’d need to be
able to move, but wouldn’t say how much,” you added a sideways glance in his
direction. “The best guess I have so far is a picnic, perhaps? But we could
have just gone to Central Park for that.”

He chuckled at the bit of attitude he felt from his passenger. “I planned
something a bit more interesting than a picnic.” He slowed down, taking an exit
off the freeway. “An exercise in control. Or more accurately, in losing
control.”

Losing
control? What kind of date is this?

Your look of confusion turned to complete and utter bewilderment
as he stops the car in front of a hockey rink. He outright laughed at your expression
as he unbuckled his seatbelt and came around to open your door.

“Trust me. Please,” he said, holding his hand out for yours.

You stood at the little gate, watching Thomas skate around in
circles. If this was some kind of test, you were already failing. You could
barely stand, let alone skate. Your 6-inch spikes were a breeze compared to
these blades of embarrassment. He skated over to you, holding out his hands as
an offering of help.

“I won’t let you fall.”

You held tight to the guard rail, your ankles shaking. “I’ve never
done this before. I don’t know how,” you said, feeling like a child.

“Then we’ll take it slow. Just hold onto me instead of the rail.
Baby steps. That’s all you have to do.”

You were toe to toe with him now, his skates on the ice and yours
on the carpet. You take your left hand off the rail and slowly place it in his.
With a deep breath, you do the same thing with your right. Steadying yourself
in his hands, you glance up to see him looking into your eyes. His face breaks
into a smile as he says, “You did it.”

His smile lit a fire in your chest. You squeezed his hands tighter
as you step out onto the ice. The slick surface took you by surprise – just holding
yourself up was suddenly twice as hard. How in the world were you ever going to
glide?

“Now, darling, this is the part where you must exercise losing
control. The more tense you are, the harder it’s going to be. So just try to
relax,” he said, his voice soothing.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking another breath to steady
yourself. You’d never encountered anything in life that you weren’t able to
conquer; you could do this, too. Maybe you haven’t been ice skating before, but
you’ve seen plenty of people do it. It’s just one foot in front of the other.
You can do this.

“Do I just… walk?” you asked, holding onto his hands for dear
life.

“It’s even simpler than that. Do you ever swim laps? At the end of
the pool you flip around, using the wall to kick off?”

Swimming.
Why couldn’t we have gone swimming? “Yes…”

“It’s just like that. Use your back foot to kick off, and keep
your front foot as straight as possible. Give it a try, love. I won’t let go.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You take a deep breath, throwing caution to the wind. What’s the worst that could happen? I fall over
and he sees my panties? He’s already felt them. You get your front foot in
position, and kick off. You gasp as you actually start to move – you’re
skating!

“You’ve got it! Look at you!”

First your right foot, then your left. You wobble a little as you
start to slow down. Now you see what he means – slow and steady is not the way
to skate. You had to lose control – be quick, carefree. No wonder you’d never
done it before.

Thomas glanced up at the booth. You didn’t even notice before, but
someone was up there. Had they been watching this whole time?

“Hey Mike, you got that playlist I sent you?” he hollered.

“Sure thing, Mr. Hiddleston!”

Just then, music filled the arena. It was a gentle, jazzy tune you’d
never heard before, but somehow made you think of Thomas. It suited him.

“My turn?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to help you now?” you said, wondering if he hadn’t
noticed his fingers turning blue.

“No, darling. It’s my turn to lead.”

He pulled you closer to his chest, having you take a slightly wider
stance so he could skate between your feet. He placed one of his hands around
your waist, holding the other up as if you were dancing together. As he gently
pushed off, he felt your grip on him tighten. You were caught off-guard by the
strange sensation of skating backwards; with one glance into his eyes, your apprehension melts away. You were practically floating over the ice, safe and sound in his arms.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall, remember?”

You nodded.

“How am I doing so far?” he
asked.

“If you mean physically, you’re doing very well. If we’re talking emotionally,
I think I may have already fallen for you, Thomas,” you said, glancing up at
him expectantly.

He glided to a stop at the center of the ice. The world could have
come crashing down and in that moment, you’d only see each other. He was
holding you so tight to his own body, you could barely feel the ice beneath
your skates.

“And I for you, my love.” His head tilted to the side as he leaned
down to kiss you – slowly, softly, passionately. You were completely vulnerable
in his arms, and for the first time, you weren’t scared. You were ready to give
yourself over to him; you trusted this man, wholly and completely.

He rested his forehead against yours as you both savor the moment,
romantic music playing overhead. He leaned back, holding your face in his hands. With a cheeky grin, he asks, “So… since this trip went so well, how about next time, we go
skydiving?”

“Thomas!” you scream in
complete shock, pulling his hands down and away from your face. The momentum
slides you away from him, causing you to lose your balance and fall straight onto
your bottom. You both burst into laughter; he tries to help you stand, but you’re
laughing too hard. He sits down next to you until you can catch your breath.

“I never know what to expect with you, Thomas. But I love it. And
I love you.”

Imagine taking a bubble bath with Tom. You’ve both had a long day, so he lights candles as you get the bottle of wine. You take your time undressing each other, carefully climbing into the bathtub full of lavender scented bubbles. His shoulders are tense, so you massage his muscles into complete relaxation; he takes his time showing his appreciation, making love to you slowly and deeply for hours into the night.

Imagine being caught out to dinner with Tom. You’ve been working together on a film, and everyone has had their suspicions that you’ve been dating. Both of you refuse to confirm anything, but then some paparazzi catch you kissing over dessert, dining al fresco on a beautiful summer evening. The photographers swarm within minutes, and all either of you can do is laugh. As hard as you try not to display your affections in public, the romantic atmosphere blew caution to the wind. At least now, your love is no longer confined to the four walls of your apartment.

Imagine living next door to Tom. One summer afternoon, you hear a commotion coming from the backyard and rush to see what was going on. You step out onto the patio to see Tom, soaking wet from head to toe. His new puppy had escaped into your backyard and fallen into the swimming pool. Unsure if the little thing could swim, Tom didn’t hesitate to dive in to rescue him. He apologizes, but naturally you tell him not to worry about it. Seeing him climb out of your pool, his drenched clothes clinging to his body, was oh so worth it.

Imagine introducing yourself to Tom. You’ll be directing a film he’s set to star in, so you figured you should get acquainted with each other. When you approach him, though, things don’t go as you’d hoped. He seems skeptical you’ll be able to handle him. Although he doesn’t doubt your abilities, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take direction from such a commanding woman without becoming attracted to you.

Imagine Tom trying to fix your relationship. He tries to convince you to move back into the apartment you shared – it’s empty and cold where it used to be lighthearted and full of love. Everywhere he looks, he sees happy memories of the life you once shared. He tries to cope by sitting alone in the dark, thinking of all the ways he could have kept you from leaving.

Blind Side – Chapter 1

The sign on the door said “Thomas W. Hiddleston, Attorney at
Law.” You were familiar with this, of course, but you liked the new lettering.
It was elegant, yet somehow still conveyed that he could get every last dime
out of your cheating husband. Which was why you kept coming back.

You stepped through the door, greeted by his feeble little
assistant. Why she dressed like a nun on hiatus you’ll never understand. Grey
cardigan buttoned to the top, plain black skirt reaching practically to her
calf – what kind of message was she trying to send to the world? “Do not
enter”?

“I have a three o’clock appointment.”

“Yes, ma’am. One moment,” she said, dropping her pen and
heading for his door to let him know you’ve arrived. A moment later she’s back.

“Mr. Hiddleston will see you now,” she said, avoiding eye
contact all together. You roll your eyes behind your Gucci sunglasses and head
for the door.

You walk through the doorway to see your lawyer sitting on
his desk, looking out the window as he talks on the phone. He gets to his feet
when he hears you come in, trying to get off the phone. “Yes – I’ll call you
later, Mum. My favorite client is here,” he said with a wink.

You remove your sunglasses and wink back, shrugging out of
your fur coat. “Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Mrs. Evans!” he says, inviting you to have a seat. “How are
you today?”

“I’ll be better when I’m a “Ms.” again, Thomas. How soon can
you make that happen?”

He pulls a file from his desk drawer and puts on his
glasses. He reads for a moment, making note of a highlighted portion on the
second page.

“Well, the terms of your prenuptial agreement are fairly
straightforward – infidelity on the part of either individual could be grounds
for complete invalidation of the contract.”

“Meaning?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. The smirk on your
face tells Tom you know exactly what that means. He’d expect so, considering
this was your third divorce.

“Meaning, Mrs. Evans, that you are completely within your
rights to demand a settlement for any… um, emotional turmoil this may have
caused you.”

A satisfied smile spread across your face. That’s what you
liked to hear.

“You’re just
wonderful, Thomas. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” you said, holding
his gaze as you uncross your legs. You notice his eyes drift south as you take
your time crossing them again. Did I
forget to wear panties today?

He gets up from his desk, his face breaking into a sideways
grin. He saunters over to you, sitting on the corner of his desk with his hands
folded in front of his lap. “What exactly are you looking for, love? What do
you need that none of your husbands have been able to provide?”

You ponder this for a moment. You’ve never really stopped to
think about it; marriage has never seemed like a permanent situation for
someone such as yourself – you were always looking for what was new and
exciting. Your husbands have, thus far, been temporary company until you
ultimately find yourself bored and in need of a change. That’s when you put on
your favorite fuck me pumps, pairing them with this season’s hottest little
black dress and your signature fur coat. You’d head to the most exclusive bar
in the city, never being there long before you met someone new, beginning the
cycle again.

“I’m not one to settle, Thomas, unless it’s in court. I get
bored easily. My latest groom was dull from the start, I should have known
better. He was too soft. Always trying to appease me, but never taking
control.”

“So, authority is what you’re after?” he asked, his voice
suddenly quiet, intriguing.

“It would be something new, that’s for sure.” You glance up,
suddenly noticing the lust building in his eyes. You’re surprised to find your
heart beating faster, your breath catching in your chest. Why was your heart
choosing now, this moment, to find this man so attractive? You’ve met with him
many times before, always looking to free yourself from the confines of
marriage. It had never crossed your mind that he’d have something more to
offer.

He reaches out, taking your hand and pulling you closer to
him. In one swift movement, he plucks you from your chair, your heels clinking
on the tiled floor. He steps forward, bringing your face within inches of his
own. He’s looking at you with such intensity, you take a step backward.

“What’s the matter?” he said, taking a step closer as you
take another step back. “Not used to a man willing to take control?”

“N-no, not really…” you trail off, your back suddenly
pressed up against his bookcase. There’s nowhere left for you to go. He presses
his body against yours, sliding his knee between the two of yours. Your black
mini skirt bunched at the top of your legs, very nearly exposing your lower
lips. He bites his lip as he leans into your neck, nuzzling the hair away from
your ear.

“When you think you’re ready for a real man, you know where
to find me,” he said, gently nibbling your earlobe before stepping away. He
turns to shuffle your papers back into his folder, leaving you in stunned silence.
You try to catch your breath, but for the life of you, can’t take your eyes off
him.

He turns to back to you, seemingly surprised to see you
still standing in his office. “That will be all, Mrs. Evans.”

You’ve never been treated this way in your life. No one dismisses you. But – for some reason –
you gather your things. You put on your sunglasses, pick up your coat, and walk
out. You exit his office, making it all the way into the elevator before the
first thought manages to form in your mind. Four
husbands and it’s a lawyer who brings me to my knees.

Tag: thomas sharpe

Blind Side – Chapter 9

Blind Side – Chapter 3

Blind Side – Chapter 1