Pretend You're Mine Read online

  ***

  Days weren’t all bad, it was just hard to enjoy what was good. I knew Lydia was wanting me to get out of the house a bit more than I was. I only left for work and groceries.

  “Today,” she said one Saturday over the quick oatmeal I had cooked that morning. “We should do that photoshoot.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah. I actually have some suits ready that I want to model, and all my models won’t be in today. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d look great in our suits.”

  I wanted to pay Lydia back for everything she’d done for me. “Let’s do it.” But I was also a little interested. I loved hearing Lydia talk about her work, even before I knew how deep my feelings for her really were. She always got more confident, surer of herself when she talked about her work or went on about designers. It gave her a certain look in her eye that seemed to make her even more attractive.

  We went to her offices after breakfast. They had the whole floor reserved in one of the skyscrapers in the main city. Besides us, there was one of her designers holed away in a room working on sewing something last minute. We basically had the whole place to ourselves.

  “It’s usually much busier than this,” she said, smoothing out a jacket collar a mannequin had pinned to it. “During the two fashion weeks you will never see me.”

  “I’ll just have to visit.” I looked at the designs pinned to the wall and notes after notes written out next to each.

  “Here.” She surprised me by shoving an outfit into my arms. “Be incredibly careful with that.”

  “You trust me with this?” I wasn’t sure I did.

  “You won’t rip it. It won’t fit you exactly, I’ll have to pin it to see if it works. Don’t worry.”

  “Where do I change?”

  “We have a little curtain over there, for those who get shy. But most of the guys change in the middle of the room, you learn to get over that kind of thing.”

  “When in Rome.” I began changing right there. I saw her eyes light up as I slipped my shirt up and over my head exposing the chest and stomach I had been working on. I was having trouble being intimate, but perhaps letting her see was a good compromise. When I slipped my pants off, I could tell she was hiding her obvious want behind a professional face.

  I carefully put on her suit. It was a light pastel blue with a raised pattern that swept throughout the fabric.

  “Is it okay if I get closer to put some pins in it?” She asked.

  “Do what you need to.” If I needed her to stop, I knew she would listen to me.

  I felt her touch ghost over my clothes. It wasn’t direct contact so I could handle it. But as she moved up and down my legs, bringing the fabric closer and closer to my legs, I felt the spark I’d been missing flare a little. I wished I could feel this way more.

  She finally stood to admire her work, her eyes admiring me as well.

  “Take a look.” She gestured to a floor length mirror. I moved in front of it and looked at her work. I still didn’t know much about fashion, but I knew the way she pinned it was fantastic. I had been wearing ill-fitting clothes for so long, that looking at the suit now, I could tell it was fit for me. It was still a little tight in the arms, which made me suspicious since everything else was so perfect.

  “You’re wonderful at what you do,” I said honestly.

  “And you look good.” She said moving to stand next to me.

  “What’s this suit for?” I asked.

  “It’s a side project I’m working on. Now stand still, I’m going to take some photos.”

  She spent a few moments directing me in different poses as her camera snapped. I wasn’t a professional, but I stood still and followed directions as best I could.

  She got closer to me, seemingly taking headshots. I turned and used my hand to pull the camera down slowly then tilted her head forward. Her eyes went wide for a moment but then she set her camera down. I wanted to chase the good feeling while I still had it. Before my thoughts could ruin it.

  Lifting my hand, I cupped her cheek. I kissed her, soft and quick at first. Then I went deeper. My mind went blank, but it wasn’t like when I couldn’t focus. It was like my mind was finally calm for the first time in weeks. Each time I kissed Lydia I felt a kind of peace. Each time I tried to since my parents showed up, I was worried I’d taint that peace. Dropping my hand, I put my hands on her waist and drew her closer, but I wanted more. I slipped my hands under her shirt and pressed my fingertips into her warm skin. She responded by rubbing a leg against my calf. I felt my desire stir at the movement. She always kissed like she wanted to get closer, to get so close we would meld into each other.

  “I don’t want to get caught again,” she said breathily against my jaw when we parted to breathe.

  “This time I won’t open the door. For anyone.”

  I got changed as quickly and carefully as I could. Even if I was worried that I’d run out of steam, I didn’t want to ruin her work. In the elevator down she kept her arms wrapped around my arm, like she was afraid I’d run off.

  The car ride was interesting as I had to keep my eyes on the road while she kept teasing her fingertips over my arms and drawing swirls that made goosebumps break on my skin.

  We got in the house and I locked the door. This time I wasn’t going to let anything distract us. I wanted to scoop her into my arms and carry her to our room. It was going to be our room now. But I let her take my hand and run-pull me up the steps. She looked excited and ready.

  We got in the bedroom and locked the door. I was about to slip my shirt off once again but her hands on my arms stopped me.

  “Let me.” She took the edge of the shirt and pulled it slowly over my head, revealing myself to her once again. She ran her hands over my pecs and over my shoulders.

  “You like what you see?” I smirked.

  “I should have gotten you to model for me sooner.” She peered up at me.

  It was her turn. I helped her take off her top. I didn’t think about it often, but she had a wonderful chest. I moved to kiss her again, cupping her right breast in my hand. She let out a deep sigh as I teased the delicate skin, and I pulled a gasp from her as my fingers slid under her bra to brush against her nipple.

  “Get it off.” I didn’t need much more than that. I reached around to unclasp her bra letting her breasts fall out against my chest as she pulled me in for a quick deep kiss. While our tongues met, her hands wandered down to my waist and began unbuckling my belt. I heard the zipper creep down and then she was hooking her fingers in the waistband beginning to pull them down.

  “Lydia.” She immediately broke the kiss and moved her hands away. She backed up, worry clear in her eyes.

  “I can’t.” My voice shook. I felt tears spring to my eyes. I hadn’t cried in years.

  “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” I stumbled back to the bed and leaned against it. I shoved my hands in my face and let the tears leak out my screwed shut eyes and drip between my fingers. Lydia was going to see I wasn’t what she wanted now.

  “Taylor.” I felt the bed dip as she sat down. I peeked from behind my hands to see her wearing my shirt and close enough to reach out, but far away enough that I didn’t have to touch her if I didn’t want to.

  “I’m sorry Lydia I can’t. This is all wrong.”

  “What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice too understanding, she should have left as soon as I broke down.

  “I’m using you Lydia. I am using you.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I paid you to be in this relationship. I just wanted to use your need for investors to get what I want. This relationship is built on that. I am using you. I am just like her.”

  “Just like who?” She asked, calmly, like she knew already.

  “I’m just like my mother.” Saying it out loud what I had been thinking for weeks gave me some kind of horrible relief. It felt true hearing it said out loud. I had been justifying my actions for weeks, but it had to b
e true. I used Lydia. I lived in fear for years that I would become just like her. I didn’t want a partner if I was going to be just like her. I didn’t want kids if I was going to become a monster like her.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” She said, her voice small. “But I don’t think you are like her. I don’t think that at all.”

  “No.” I let out a breath. “I want to tell you.”

  “Only if you think it would help you.” Why hadn’t she left yet? Would she leave after she learned the truth?

  Chapter 12: Lydia

  He paced around the room a few times before he finally sat back down on the bed. He kept rubbing his hands over his face, like he was trying to wipe away his emotions.

  "I don't want you to force yourself," I said. I didn't want him to feel like he had to tell me. So much of himself had been revealed to me without his choice. I was worried he felt like he owed me an explanation. He didn't. "I will understand Taylor if you can't tell me."

  "What if I said I wanted to tell you?" He asked, his voice sounding hoarse.

  I swallowed. "Then, take your time." I looked at his hands itching at his face. "Do you think if I took your hands, it would help?"

  He nodded. I took both of his hands in mine and sat so we were facing each other on his bed. The light was low in the room because the curtains were drawn and we were so excited before, we hadn't turned any lights on. It made the space feel unreal, like we were in our own universe.

  "When I was really young. My parents got divorced." He started the story with his eyes closed. "My mom used to tell me it was all my dad's fault, but I never really got to see him, so I don't really know the truth."

  I thought immediately of my aunt and how distant we had been over the years. Maybe both Taylor and I needed a chance to reconnect.

  "All I know is that my mom had the Hirano money and the Hirano lawyers on her side. My dad got to see me on holidays and my birthday, that was it. I grew up without really knowing who he was."

  "That sounds awful." I squeezed his hand and examined his face. He was still keeping his eyes closed and when he wasn't speaking, I could see his jaw clenched.

  "It didn't start until I was twelve."

  "What started?" An icy horror filled my gut.

  "My mother. She," his voice broke in a way that made tears prick instantly at my eyes. "She started to use me." Tears started to fall from his eyelids no matter how hard he was keeping them shut. I couldn't keep my tears from falling either. My heart broke as my chest tightened. "I didn't know how to stop it. I tried to hide from her after the first time. But I was so afraid of her. Whenever my grandfather visited, I wanted to tell him, but he loves my mom. I didn't think he would believe me. I barely saw my dad. I didn't really trust him. It stopped once I got into high school, but I was terrified she'd want it from me again. I spent more and more time out of my house terrified of going home. I worked out constantly, until I was hurting myself, hoping I’d be strong enough to keep her away next time. I moved out at eighteen and I never visited her. My grandfather thinks we got into an argument."

  "Taylor," I whispered, my entire body feeling heavy, suddenly exhausted as if I had been put under all of earth’s gravity at once.

  “So, I can’t have sex with you Lydia. Even though I want to. Sometimes I can’t even kiss you.” He was shuddering, so open before me. “It brings me back to those days of fear.”

  “Taylor.” I repeated his name over and over. “You never have to do anything you don’t want.”

  He looked up at me, finally opening his eyes. “But I can’t be the partner you want.”

  “If I somehow made you think that I needed you to kiss me and have sex with me for me to love you I am deeply sorry. I’m not being the partner you deserve in that case. I care for you. I fell in love with the way you listen to me like everything I am is interesting to you. I like that you put on a show when you cook, just for me. I think you can be deeply caring, and you make me smile. I know you can’t always say it, but you try to show me how much you care through the small things. I love you Taylor Hirano, not for the physical stuff, but for you.” I tried not to let my voice shake, but I couldn’t help how deeply I was feeling at that moment.

  “Lydia.” he reached up and caressed my face, his watery eyes focused on mine. “What did I do to deserve you?”

  “I just told you.” I said smiling softly.

  “I’m happy that you feel that way. But I also want to be able to make love to you,” he said pushing some of my hair back rhythmically, like he was keeping himself centered in the moment, focused entirely on me. “I don’t want what she did to me to stop that.”

  “Well. Then I think we should talk to your therapist. Together. See if some kind of couples’ therapy could help.”

  “For now, can we just lay here for a bit?” He asked.

  “I think I’d like that.” We got comfortable on the bed in our usual positions a couple feet apart.

  “Can you keep holding my hand?” He asked putting his hand out into the gap.

  I tapped his wrist and threaded my fingers into his.

  ***

  “Lydia?” My aunt wasn’t from England, just worked there most of her life, but she had picked up a kind of posh tone to her voice. I used to think it was funny when I was little.

  “Hey Aunt Renee.” I smiled into the phone.

  “Is something wrong?” She asked hesitantly.

  “No, I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh.” There was a pause on her end of the line. “What about?”

  “I wanted to tell you my marriage is still going strong. Taylor is really special to me.”

  “That’s good, sweetheart,” the endearment felt strange coming from her, she hadn’t spoken to me that way since I was a little kid.

  “He’s a great cook. And he looks great in a suit,” I said. I never really talked with Aunt Renee about boys when I was a teenager, like I’d seen daughters and moms do in shows. Maybe I was making up for lost time.

  “Sounds like the perfect man for you.” She laughed pleasantly over the line.

  I gathered up the courage I needed to continue. “And I really want you to meet him.”

  “You do?”

  “I want him to meet my family.” I said wiping away tears I knew she couldn’t see.

  “I’m sure I can take a vacation around Christmas time, would that work?”

  “That sounds perfect, we can have a family Christmas this year like we used to, show him what the Maxwell’s get up to.”

  “You know it baby!”

  I really missed her. All this time I was avoiding her, but why when she had always been a mother to me? Why did we ever let ourselves grow apart? “Tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

  “Well, I am as busy as ever…”

  We talked for over an hour. I felt a weight I’d never noticed lift off of me, and I felt better than I had in a long time.

  ***

  “Mrs. Tupp, meet Lydia,” Taylor introduced me to the small woman I’d spoken to over the phone.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” Mrs. Tupp said, smiling a small pleasant smile while she shook my hand.

  “It’s good to finally meet you,” I said and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Taylor didn’t sit, he began milling around the space. Mrs. Tupp didn’t say anything about it, so I guessed that was usual for him.

  “Now. I’m so glad you two have talked about your boundaries and discussed Taylor’s trauma in a way where both of you felt safe. I'm proud of you Taylor for deciding you wanted to and then being able to talk about it with your partner.”

  Taylor didn’t respond other than a small huff of acknowledgement. He seemed focused on this puzzle mounted on the wall made of entirely white pieces.

  “Now, I’m not a licensed couples’ therapist, it’s not my area,” she explained. “But my husband, Mr. Tupp, is.”

  “Your husband is a therapist too?” I asked.

  “Tha
t’s why everyone calls them Mrs. and Mr. Tupp,” Taylor finally spoke up. “They got tired of being confused as the other Dr. Tupp.”

  “Now, Taylor has said I can share relevant information and files with my husband, but I want to get your permission too for your side.”

  “Is this technically legal?” I asked, curious.

  She shrugged a little. “I think it would be good for Taylor to work with someone he already trusts.”

  “Mr. Tupp knitted me a sweater last year for Christmas.” I could see Taylor’s blush from here.

  “That’s fine with me,” I said. It may not be technically ethical, but I didn’t know what other therapist we could go to and explain the whole fake marriage turned real marriage thing to.

  We exited the therapy appointment with a referral to Mr. Tupp next week and a hug from Mrs. Tupp as we left.

  “I think, since my aunt is coming home,” I began during the car ride home, “we should host a Christmas party.”

  He hummed.

  “It would also be a kind of congratulations on the promotion party too since you’d be CEO soon after. We would invite Virgo and Michael obviously, but also, I think it would be nice if you got to know some of my other designers. They are all super sweet and would love to meet you. Especially after seeing pictures of you in that blue suit. I think they might try to recruit you as a model.” I thought I saw him smile a little in the corner of my eye. “I think we could invite the Tupps too. And, if you wanted to invite anyone, you could.” I was implying his father, but I didn’t want him to feel pressured. Maybe through therapy he would try to reconnect. But maybe he didn’t want to. Either was fine with me. I just knew how I felt to finally talk to my aunt again. Maybe it would help him too?

  “I’ll think about it,” he said evenly. I thought that was a fine compromise.

  ***

  It was a normal Saturday, at first. Taylor was off at therapy. We would be going to our first appointment in a few days. I was somewhat nervous about it. I knew it would probably be fine. Even though I hadn’t met Mr. Tupp, I knew Taylor trusted him. But still, I had never been to therapy before. I knew vague things about it from T.V., movies, and such, but I knew they couldn’t be completely accurate or maybe even they were completely wrong. I had decided to do a bit of research while Taylor was gone when I heard the doorbell ring.