Sleeping With My Married Ex

Chapter 12

He stops talking to face a tall, stocky older man with skin like a Hershey bar and slightly gray hair. I recognize him from the picture in the office at the fire station where Donovan works.
"Uncle Rick." Donovan hugs the man as my brow arches. Uncle? He's never mentioned that one of his captains was his uncle. Not like I would have remembered that little bit of information. I have wondered why some many of Donovan's relatives were here. Now I know.

They break apart. Placing his hand at my lower back, he ushers me forward. "Uncle Rick, this is Shannon. She did the seminar at the station last spring."
Uncle Rick extends a hand and I reach out to shake his saying hello as I do. His grip is strong, but I'm not weakling. Uncle Rick grins. "It's a shame I missed your lecture. Some of my boys talked about you for the remainder of the week."
I grunt. Working with those fighters reminded me of my internship at a middle school. Immature, childish males. But it was fun. "How bad did Donny threaten the ones who continued to talk?"
The hand pressed against my lower back clenches, nails digging into skin. I step on his foot.
"Some things are better left unsaid," Rick replied. I nod in agreement.

The two guys lap into conversation. I thought I've seen just about everything there is to see where Donovan is concerned, but never this. This Donovan next to me talking to his uncle is one that has never completely met my acquaintance. He's so humble and modest and polite right now that I'm speechless. Yes, he's polite with me, but that's polite in case with a girlfriend. This is polite when standing in the face of your role model. I like seeing Donovan like this. His ego stands no chance around this Uncle Rick.

"So, how much longer until everything is finalized?" I hear Rick say.
"I talked to my lawyer last week and he said it should be complete in a month. She keeps the apartment and I have to pay for it until the lease is over, but other than that she gets nothing from me."
My attention shifts onto what they're saying. Are they talking about divorce? He's divorcing the witch? Since when? How long has this been happening? Despite what media portrays, divorces take a while. That means he's been in process of a divorce longer than we've...well, been together. Officially. Yet, he never told me.
"You tried. I can attest to that, and that's all one can do, right?"
"Right."
"And you already have someone in line." Rick nods at me
"Excuse me?" My voice is sharp even to my own ears, but if I'm following this conversation correctly I don't like what was just implied.
Donovan chuckles. "No. Once it's final, I'm flying solo for a long time. Just going to do me. Females area bit to complicated right now. They want everything."
My head snaps up to look at him. I know he did not just say what I think. I must be following this conversation wrong. What the he'll am I? I flick my nose. "If I was female, I'd take offense to that," I mumble sarcastically.

I don't want to hear anymore of this conversation at the moment. If I wanted more from him than what I have now, I would take offense to that. If I was a needed female, I would take offense to that. I don't take offense to that for those reasons. What he says peeves me, that's for sure, but not because I want to be the 'next one'. I don't believe Rick or Donovan intentionally said those things as an insult to me. I'm sure I'm being too much of a female right now for being annoyed. So, I walk away causally to a less populated area and sit on the bench and work on unclenching my jaw.

Donovan joins me a few minutes later. He stops directly in front of me but doesn't sit. "What's wrong?" he asks.
I shake my head.
"You're lying."
"Just being a complicated female at the moment," my response is bitter.
I hear him heave and know he probably just rolled his eyes.
"You're pissed off because of what I said." A factual statement.
"Yes." I change my focus from the children playing with the football to the wives huddled together before I look up at him. "But not for reasons you may be thinking. I get why you said what you said."
"So why are you angry?" He really doesn't understand why I'm pissed.
"Why shouldn't I be? You just sat there and told your uncle that once you're divorce, a divorce I knew nothing about when you know how horrible I've felt about being involved with a married man, that you're done with females for a while. Women are needy and complicated."
His jaw ticks. "I'm not going to walk myself in to this argument with you."
"I'm not trying to argue with you, Donovan."
"Sounds like it to me."

Remember how I said careless words aren't always harmless words. Well, his careless words just pissed me off even more. "What it sounded like to me a few minutes ago," I bit out, "was that I'm unimportant. Someone you can just brush aside without a second thought."
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you implied."
"No it's not."
"Yes. It is. You said it. You said that you're flying solo. You're going to do you, whatever the hell that means. Females are complicated and needy so you're going going solo right? That's what you said, right?"
"I--"
"Right?!"
"Right."
"Yet, I'm female and here am I now with you. Or am I not with you and just fucking you?" He doesn't respond. His jaw just ticks even more. "I'm not trying to argue with you. Really, I'm not. But I can't sit here and say that what you said doesn't piss me off. I haven't asked you for anything. I don't want more from you either. You know that. And still, you just dismissed me without even a second thought which in turn has brought up those insecure feelings. I don't like feeling insecure. What I dislike even more is you making me feel this way."

I honestly don't want to argue. I don't want to remind him of his wife, soon to be ex-wife. Besides, I don't know how. I can't. I'm incapable. I'm also not capable of biting my tongue either.

He stares down at me, his expression focus and thoughtful, his mind probably racing a thousands ways to figure out how to get out of this. I don't want him to speak polished words to pacify me, to--
"I'm sorry."
Damn him.
"You're right."
"I usually am."
He hankers down until he's slightly below my eye level. "Don't make this difficult." He takes my hands into his. I'm still angry, but my anger is ebbing.
"Yes, I'm with you. You know that. I've told you so before. I wasn't trying to dismiss you either. You also know that."
I open my mouth to speak but his cuts me off.
"Even if that's how it sounded to you, you know that's not what I meant. I've just been dealing with so much shit with Tara that I'm not looking for anything serious and won't be for a while."
"I haven't ask you for anything serious."
"True. Which is why I could so easily say what I said. It wasn't that I was trying to dismiss you, or insult you, or make you feel bad, or piss you off. It's just how I feel." He kissed the back of my hands. "You don't ask me for anything. You don't even need me. Not even a little bit. Insecurity and self contempt aside, you're the most put together person and...and..."
"Uncomplicated," I supply for him.
He smirks. "Right. Uncomplicated. You know I think you're great. You're smart and gorgeous. You know this. You have an over achiever's complex-"
"Fools complex."
"Whatever you want to call it, but I like your this way. So, don't fault me for what I said, Shannon. It wasn't meant that way, so I apologize. Forgive me."

I naw on my bottom lip. I've never been the kind of person to forgive easily. Nor do I forget. But I can't stay mad, because not matter how much I want to be, I know he's right on one thing. He really didn't mean it that way. If he had, he certainly wouldn't have apologized. Never once have I heard him apologize about anything seriously. Oh, there was that time during the basketball match, but that was just to appease me. He's sincere right now. As humble as he was when speaking with his uncle. I can't stay mad at that, can I?

He kisses my palms this time. "Say you forgive me."
I pout. "I'm not to sure I do."
Another kiss. "Please."
"I don't know."
He leans up until he can brush a chaste kiss across my lips. "Please."
"You're going through a lot of trouble for a complicated, needy female," I murmur against his lips." He groans, realizing that he's going to have to dig his way out of the mess he's landed himself into. "But I forgive you." A peck. "This time."
"Well if it kills you so much then don't bother."
I laugh. "Hush." Donovan places another kiss before raising to sit next to me. Then he starts digging.

A little over an hour later, after eating and him digging and digging until I have to forgive him for the next seven mishaps, we're joined by Toya and Anthony.
"You trying to play?" Anthony questions.
"Play what?"
"Toya wants to play volleyball," Anthony says. "You and Toya against me and Shannon."
It was obviously said as a joke, but when Donovan laughs as if he just heard the worlds dumbest joke I can't stop my head from slowly spinning to pin him with a stare. I feel like the chick from the Exorcist. "What's that I hear in your laugh? Is that arrogance? Are you laughing at been paired with Toya or losing against me?"
"He better not be laughing at me?" Toya comments and slaps his arm.
"I'm not laughing at you Toya," he complains grabbing her wrist.
"So you're laughing because you'll loose. Okay. That's understandable."
"Still lying to yourself I see."
"You know how it goes. Anytime, anywhere."
He leans forward. "Not even on your best day."
I lean in and tap his right cheek twice. "Even in a strappy sandal."

"As much as I'd love to see you kick his ass, Shannon-"
"Lord knows he needs it," Toya interrupts Anthony.
"Let me and the boys borrow him for a moment. Five on five. Tackle."
I shove Donovan towards his brother. "Go for it."

The Sinclair boys, Stephan, one of Donovan's teenage cousins, and five of the fighters align touchdowns on the make-shift football field that set up some distance away. I am a bit disappointed when they don't play shirts against skins. I was actually looking forward to a little sweaty male flesh. Even if it isn't my guys' sweaty male flesh. Instead, they team Sinclair's vs Fighters. Obviously.

Coin toss. Fighters take the ball. I sit on the bench closes to them with Toya. She cheers loudly for her husband and his team while the wives cry out for their husbands. I say nothing. Not because I don't want to. I just don't know what the hell is actually going on. I've never been able to follow football. Or any sport for that matter. Playing it is different. I don't play with rules. Watching it requires knowledge of what's actually happening. Knowledge I don't possess. All I know is what team has the ball and what team doesn't. All the fouls and other calls that Rick and some of the other side-liners are calling out go over my head. Touchdown. That's all I know.

For thirty minutes I watch the boys play with the fighters in the lead. I hear Lupe Fiasco's The Show Goes on in the background. Catchy song, I think as the boys form a...Toya calls it a scrimmage line. Stephan is the quarterback -I think that's what the person who throws the ball is called- and launches the football far down the field. As the guys run, spin, dodge, tackle, and catch I feel my lips curve at the familiar feeling. Nostalgia. I spent many Sunday's as a teenager watching this, with these guys, doing exactly what they're doing now. Those childhood emotions rise again, stronger than before, more potent than they once were. My stomach clenches, my hands gripped tightly.

Donovan catches the pass and races down the field dodging the fighters, his team mates clearing a path for him. He runs passing by us with insane speed, looking over to where we sat and winked as he passed. I smile in full. Hocus Pocus. He'd done this before during one of those Sunday games. I watch him run pass recalling exactly how he looked eight years ago when he first ran by and winked, the dreadlocks he no longer have had been in a ponytail, flying behind him. My heart feels light and I admit to myself that I may have lied to him about being uncomplicated un-needy female. Watching him like this, so carefree and handsome, I say to myself what I have yet to say. "I'm in love with him." One hundred and ten percent, whole-heartily in love with Donovan Sinclair.

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