Fire In His Eyes (Secrets & Seduction #1)(46)

Was it worth the shot? Or was I just setting myself up for more heartbreak. I mulled over it for days. Then one lonely Thursday night, after midnight when I knew he would have his phone turned off for the night I called.



This is what I said;

“Hi Victor. It’s me, Monica. Thanks for checking up on me. I am . . . better. I am glad you are too. . . .” And, then I hung up. Chicken shit! It hadn’t been what I had planned to say it all. I wanted to wish him happiness, and to let him know that I hoped he would get what he wanted, his family back, and to not worry about me and that I would move on. I wanted to wish him well. I just hadn’t been able to form the words.



When I got home from work I ran to my bedroom. The machine was flashing, there was another message waiting for me. I hit play. It was him.

“Hi Monica. I am really glad you’re better, not sick, I hope. You have lost a lot of weight. That worried me. I wanted you to know that I am back in the military, I went back early, and they took me back. I hated that job in construction, you knew that. Well, it was nice to hear your voice. Be happy, and healthy, too,” he laughed a little at the end but it came out hollow sounding.



It was Friday night and I was alone, and I listened to my messages from Victor over and over again, and got rip roaring drunk all by myself on stale Pinot Grigio I had in the refrigerator. I waited until after midnight, and called him.

“Hey, it’s Monica . . . hiccup . . . healthy as a horse over here no fricking worries buddy. Run eight miles every day now, more ‘n you do. Haha. Glad to hear you are back where you belong, great friends in the military and you need that. Gotta go. Bye.” The message sounded better in my head.

I didn’t get any messages on Saturday or Sunday from Victor probably because he expected me to be home and was afraid I would answer. I went for a hike with some friends from work on Saturday along the Withalacoochee Trail, graded some papers on Sunday to kill the time, and tried not to remember my drunken message. It really did sound better in my head.



On Monday, there was a message from Victor. He said;

“Hey, Monica. You must have been out with the girls or your sister. Sounds like you were lit pretty good.” He laughed while saying that. “I am glad you are getting out, really. You must be training something fierce, but you have lost too much weight. You need to eat more carbs if you are doing that kind of running. You’re a pole. It will eat away at your muscle mass. Are you training for a marathon or something? You always said you wanted to do that. And, yes, the guys are glad I am back to work and they are the best. It is nice to be around guys you respect, and respect you. How is work this year? Hope you have good students? Okay gotta go. Bye.”

At midnight I called and left him this message;

“Hi, work is good. Good kids this year. I have three honors classes and an AP class which means a lot of papers to grade at night. It’s all good, though, it keeps me busy. No marathon, though. I have not seen anything close enough to do around here. But, it is something to think about. I will eat more carbs, too. Good idea. I am glad you like working back at the base. Stay safe, though, okay.”

On Tuesday, he left this message;

“Hey, Monica. It sounds like you have great classes even if it is extra work. There is a marathon at the end of next month, every year in St. Pete. I think it’s a half marathon or a 5K just for women. I am doing PT again, so really just training the young guys, new recruits, and keeping the old timers in peak performance. I don’t think they would send me back to Iraq, though, unless it was an emergency. You never know, but don’t worry about that, okay. Bye.”

Tuesday night at midnight I called him. This is what I said;

“Hi Victor. The marathon sounds interesting. I will check into it. About Iraq, I can’t help but worry. I worry about all the guys there. Some of my students have been sent. So, I would worry about them and you. Bye.”

Wednesday the message waiting for me was;

“Monica, tomorrow is Thursday, I have some time. Can I see you?”



My stomach lurched. I could not go down this road with a married man, could I? What had I been doing all week, I asked myself. Had I been flirting with a married man, or just checking on an old friend, and lover? I felt sick to my stomach. My mind had told me the latter, but my heart knew it was the former. He had a daughter who wanted a mommy and a daddy. Her mommy and daddy. If I took that from her, ruined the relationship she had with her father, she would hate us both, he would hate himself, and he would come to hate me. I could not do this to a child, an innocent young girl who had no clue who I was.

At midnight, I called. I left this message;

“I don’t think so, Victor. Goodbye.”

He didn’t call for a week.





It was a Wednesday, when I got the next message from Victor.

“Hi Monica. I should have not just said it like that. I think you took it wrong. I wasn’t trying to pick up where we left off. I wouldn’t do that to you again. I care about you still you know, like a really good friend. I want you to be happy. I want . . . to see for myself you are really okay, okay? I just need to know. I want you to see I’m okay, too. Let’s talk. Have a cup of coffee together. It can be in public. Outside. In the daytime. Wherever you choose. I’m free this weekend. Think about it, okay. Call me any day, before midnight. No more games.”