my seatmate
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HopeChapter 3 free porn video
The text on his computer screen kept blurring, as Michael stared at it in a zombie-like fashion. Eventually, he cursed and pushed the keyboard away. He returned to staring at his mobile instead. The house was blissfully silent; Hope was asleep upstairs and he was meant to be writing yet another report for tomorrow's meeting. Instead, he sat at the table, unable to write the goddamned thing.
He knew he needed to talk to Ellie, but he didn't know what he could say that would make things right. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed last night — he had — but the fact that she'd left in the middle of the night indicated to him that she saw it as a huge mistake. Now, he felt like a total bastard for taking advantage of her when she was drunk.
It had never been his intention to be anything other than friends with her. Despite the simmering attraction between them, he wasn't ready for a relationship. There were too many complications in his life right now, not least of them Helen. He just hoped that he hadn't blown things with Ellie completely. It was obvious how much she adored Hope.
He sighed. It was now or never. If he didn't make some kind of effort to make amends, then he would lose his nerves and so would Ellie. Picking up his mobile, he dialled her home number.
It rang ... and rang. Eventually, an answering service picked up the call and a disembodied voice told him to leave a message after the tone.
"Hi, Ellie ... it's Michael. We need to talk about ... stuff. Can you give me a ring, please?" He hung up feeling like a love struck teenager. If she didn't return his call, he was screwed
Ellie sat on her sofa listening to Michael's voice on her answer machine. She exhaled shakily, when the machine clicked off as soon as the call ended. Just the simple act of listening to his voice made her grow warm and tingly. Oh, she had it bad!
But last night was a huge mistake. She'd realised that, when she awoke from a brief sleep, still wrapped in Michael's arms. The alcohol had worn off and she felt lousy despite the way her body was still humming from the best sex she'd ever had.
She was lying beside him, swearing silently. Michael was Lisa's man — that was an inescapable fact. Lisa might not be here any more, but Ellie still felt loyalty to her friend and sleeping with her man wasn't right. No, she had to forget about Michael. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was her only option.
She thumped the cushions with frustration. How could she have been so stupid! It was the last time she was ever going to drink wine. It was fortunate that Michael had stayed blissfully asleep when she prised herself from his arms in order to make a quick getaway. That had been the hardest thing to do. The way his arms felt around her had been wonderful. She had really wanted to stay there ... but she couldn't. She wouldn't.
Once she'd retrieved her clothes, she carefully unlocked the door and let herself out into the cold night. She locked the door again and pushed the key through the letterbox. It was a long walk into town, but it felt like a deserved penance for her sin. By the time she waved down a passing taxi, it was ridiculously late and all she wanted to do was fall into bed.
Even then, sleep eluded Ellie. Not until the sun peeked over the line of trees behind her house did she finally drift off, but it wasn't a particularly restful sleep as arousing images of their love making continued to haunt her dreams. By the time she awoke again, the sheets were tangled up and she felt like death. The only positive note was that it was Sunday and she didn't have to go to work.
Not that she did anything useful all afternoon. Everywhere she turned, she was reminded of the disastrous evening with Michael. Her small carrier bag in the hallway had some cute baby clothes inside. The plan had been to take them over next time she saw Michael and Hope. But there was no chance of that happening now. The idea of never seeing Hope again almost reduced Ellie to tears.
In an attempt to distract herself from endless self-flagellation, Ellie flopped on the sofa and watched a mindless film. Or she had been watching it until Michael had interrupted with a message on her answer machine. Now all she could do was stew again. Damn him. Why couldn't he have left her alone? DAMN HIM!
The street was teeming with pedestrians, but Michael barely noticed. His head was filled with work rubbish as he wandered past endless shops in the general direction of his bank. The day had dawned bright and sunny, but his mood had been a reflection of miserable winter, not optimistic spring.
He still hadn't heard from Ellie, unfortunately. As the days passed, he felt more and more certain that she was not going to contact him. He had thought of ringing her again in the hope that she would answer this time. But, so far, he hadn't. The truth was that he hoped she would ring him — that way, he would know she didn't completely hate him.
Without realising it, Michael found himself outside the café where he had originally met Ellie after Lisa's death. It made him catch his breath for a second, as he relived that awful moment when he heard the news. On an impulse, he swung in through the door as the spicy scent of coffee assailed his nostrils. He didn't have much time, but he needed a break anyway. So, it may as well be in here.
The girl on the counter was a less abrasive version of the blonde from his previous visit. She smiled pleasantly as she took his order. Once the coffee was ready, he paid the girl and turned to carry his mug across to a window table.
Ellie lifted her head from her newspaper. She stared in horror just at the moment their eyes locked. For an infinitesimal few seconds, they both froze. Was it fate had brought them here all over again?
Well, Michael was not going to pretend he hadn't seen her.
"Hi," he said brightly, as he sat down opposite her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly.
"Same as you probably - drinking coffee?" This wasn't going well. She seemed hostile and he wondered what he could possibly say that might help him make amends.
"Sorry," he apologised eventually.
She jerked her head up in surprise. "What?"
"I said 'sorry'. I feel like I've screwed things up — and I never meant to do that."
Ellie looked away and Michael felt his heart sink lower. It was blatantly obvious that she didn't believe a word of his apology. In all honesty, who could blame her?
"It wasn't your fault," she said eventually. "I behaved badly too. I should have known better than to drink red wine."
"You didn't behave badly!" This was ridiculous. Why on earth was she blaming herself?
"Yes I did. It should never have happened. Lisa is..." Ellie corrected herself quickly, " ... WAS my friend. It wouldn't be right."
Michael could see where she was coming from, but he felt she had it all wrong. "Lisa isn't here anymore," he told her gently. God knew he was reminded of that every time he saw their daughter. "Blaming yourself for us getting together is daft. I accept that it probably shouldn't have happened for OTHER reasons — and none of them are to do with you! But it did and we need to talk about it.
"Last night was the most fun I've had in a long time. I enjoyed your company very much. As for what happened after, well, I didn't expect that to happen, but it did. And if I'm honest, it was pretty amazing."
Ellie stared at him intensely. She seemed to be trying to decide if he was lying, but eventually she allowed a wan smile to light up her eyes. "Amazing, huh?" she said softly.
"Amazing," he reiterated before reaching out and taking her hand in his. "I continue to blame myself for a lot of things," he said, "but last night is not one of those things. Irrespective of what happens next, I want us to remain friends."
"If you want," Ellie replied nonchalantly.
He still wasn't yet sure that everything was going to be okay, but, at least, she was talking to him now. It was a big improvement on the situation of an hour ago. He drank the rest of his coffee and glanced at his watch. "I gotta go — I have a meeting at two."
"Okay," she said.
"I'll call you," he promised as he left. "Hope wants to see you soon!"
"And so do I," he added with a grin, as he jogged back down the street towards the bank.
Ellie tried to concentrate on her work, but it was impossible. All she could think about was Michael and what was going to happen between them. Sure, they could be friends as he suggested, but would that really work?
As she mulled it over, she found her thoughts drifting back to Lisa again. Obviously, she had cared about Michael very much. Even a brief glimpse of the letters she'd found told Ellie that much. The question was - how had Michael felt about Lisa? It was a subject they hadn't talked about, so Ellie had no real idea of how serious he had been about Lisa.
For all Ellie knew, Michael was some kind of Casanova who routinely seduced women and cast them aside when he grew bored. She didn't know him very well when all was said and done. How could she trust a word he said?
If they saw each other again — and Ellie knew she would have to see him for Hope's sake — she was going to have to get him to talk about his relationship with Lisa. She needed to know how he had felt about her friend. It wasn't as if she could sit down with Lisa over a cup of tea and discuss things. No, she'd never be able to do that again.
The figures on her spreadsheet blurred as tears formed. Ellie still missed Lisa so much. But she had to move on; as, indeed, they all did - Michael included. When her phone blipped from her bag, she jumped in surprise. Wondering who it could be, she reached down to retrieve it. It was a text message from Michael and she found herself smiling unwillingly, as she read it.
'Thanks for listening. I meant what I said. How about dinner on Friday? - No wine this time!'
Ellie placed the phone on her desk and stared at it for a long time. She was torn. Dinner seemed too intimate and likely to lead to other things. But if she said no, he would take that as a sign that she was still upset and that she'd read more into their encounter than he had intended. Eventually, she tapped in a brusque reply. 'Ok.'
His reply was immediate. 'I'll call you later.'
Now, she was committed. But, it would be an opportunity to talk about stuff decided Ellie. There was no reason why they couldn't be friends. Once she had that straight in her mind, she returned her attention to her work and pushed Michael out of her head. Friday was ages away and she had too much work to be worrying about a silly meal.
Her car was back on the road by Friday night, which gave her a cast iron reason not to drink any alcohol. By the time she pulled up outside Michael's house, her nerve was on the verge of deserting her. A sudden heated memory of him touching her was almost her undoing. The whoosh of heat that flooded her body with arousal made her thighs tremble and her cheeks flame.
For ages, she sat in the dark, trying unsuccessfully to practice relaxation techniques. It was only when she saw the time that she forced her legs to ferry her out from the safety of the car. It was impolite to be late, and good manners were something her mother had drilled into her from an early age.
She had deliberately dressed down for this meal. Since it was simply a meal with a friend, Ellie had made no effort to look glam in any way. She wore faded jeans and an old tee shirt. There was no way she wanted Michael to think that seduction was on the cards. The only reason she had come tonight was to spend time with Hope. She was fully prepared to be friends with Michael, but nothing more.
"Hey," Michael said when he opened the door. "You managed to avoid the rain tonight, I see," he teased her.
"Ha ha!" she grinned. "My car is out of hospital, so, I had a door-to-door service."
"You could have had that last time, if you weren't so stubborn," he reminded her as she stepped past him and into the hall.
Ellie ignored that comment and went straight into the living room when she heard Hope making noises. The baby was lying on a colourful mat, kicking her legs in the air. She turned her head when she heard Ellie. Her pretty face lit up in a beaming smile.
"Hello, gorgeous - look what Auntie Ellie has for you!" Ellie reached into the bag she was carrying and pulled out a stretchy Barbie pink suit embroidered with cute bunnies. Hope waved her arms with enthusiasm and tried to grab the bag.
"I knew you had excellent taste," laughed Ellie, as she quickly moved the crinkly bag firmly out of reach.
"You shouldn't have," commented Michael when he came back in the room, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder.
"It's only a little something I got in the sale." Ellie shrugged dismissively, before she turned her back on him and concentrated on tickling Hope's toes. The tension between them was still there, simmering away in the background, like a keg of dynamite primed to explode. It seemed easier to focus her attention on Hope rather than deal with Michael.
Michael folded his arms. He could see that it wasn't 'only a little something'. The label quite clearly announced it had come from one of the expensive baby clothes boutiques in town. However, he wasn't going to risk offending her by saying that, so he let it go.
"Before I go and finish off the dinner — would you like a drink or anything?" he asked. He had made a resolution, before Ellie arrived, not to say or do anything that might be construed as provocative in any way.
"I'll have a coke or some other cold drink, please," she said without looking up.
"Okay, I'll go and have a look and see what there is," he replied, before heading back into the sanctuary of the kitchen.
The trouble was, as soon as Ellie had arrived, Michael knew his resolve was going to be sorely tested. She looked incredibly sexy in her faded jeans and tight tee shirt. Her hair was scraped back in a ponytail and she wore no makeup. She looked adorable.
He could see that she felt uncomfortable being in his house again. It was written all over her face the second she stepped through the door. But, if they were going to be friends for Hope's sake, then they needed to behave like adults and move past this awkward bit.
It was not that easy when the only thought he had, every time he looked at her, was how her mouth had tasted when he kissed her or the sounds she had made when he touched her. Tonight was going to be a whole lot more difficult than he had ever imagined.
Ellie heard the doorbell ring and wondered who might be calling on a Friday night. She was sitting in the armchair, with Hope on her knee. The sofa was better positioned for viewing the television, but Ellie could barely bring herself to look at it. The smooth leather surface reminded her of the way Michael's body had felt beneath her fingertips. It was pure unadulterated torture.
Instead, she chose to sit in the chair and talk to Hope as she listened to the muted sound of voices from the hallway. After a few moments, the door shut and she heard Michael disappear into the kitchen. Curiosity was just about to propel her after him, when he reappeared in the living room with a tray of drinks and some garlic bread.
"Need a hand?" Ellie asked out of habitual politeness.
For a second, Michael found himself remembering how she felt against his body and he almost lost the thread of what she had said to him. Then, he berated himself for the ten thousandth time and shook his head. "No, I'm all done," he said hurriedly, before going back to the kitchen.
"Get a grip," he warned his reflection in the window, as he grabbed the food from the worktop and carefully placed two plates on top of the boxes.
"Pizza?" Ellie raised an eyebrow, as Michael came back into the living room and placed the cardboard boxes on the coffee table.
"Yeah, sorry, I exhausted my culinary skills last time you came over."
She burst out laughing and they grinned at each other - the tension between them dissipating somewhat.
"Now, can I tempt you with vegetable or meat feast?"
"Bit of both, please." Ellie suddenly realised she was starving. She had hardly eaten anything all day; nerves about this evening had given her a queasy stomach for much of the afternoon.
Michael handed her a plate. They ate in companionable silence, while Hope kicked her legs on the floor and MTV played in the background. In time, Hope began to protest at not having anyone's undivided attention. Small whimpers soon became loud wails and Michael put his plate down with a sigh.
"I guess I didn't do so badly," he said ruefully. "I managed to eat most of it!"
"I've finished," said Ellie. "I'll sort her out."
Before Michael could protest, Ellie had scooped the baby up and he was left alone with a selection of eighties rock classics.
Hope was lying in her cot, silently staring at the butterfly mobile that spun in languid circles above her head. Her eyes were beginning to close, but still Ellie didn't make a move to leave her. She knelt on the carpet stroking the baby's arm soothingly, whilst wondering how long she could stay up here, safe and out of Michael's way.
Although Hope had been more than ready for bed, Ellie had taken as long as humanly possible to change and feed her. Apart from the fact that she had been in no rush to go downstairs again, she really enjoyed spending the time alone with Hope. In a strange way, it felt like she was close to Lisa. She could almost imagine Lisa with her, watching her from the edge of the room.
She just hoped Lisa hadn't been watching when she had seduced Michael the other night. That thought still made her feel incredibly guilty. Unfortunately, it didn't stop a sharp pang of desire from igniting and she bit her lip painfully in an attempt to quell the unwanted feelings.
The mobile ceased twirling and Ellie saw regretfully that Hope was fast asleep. She knew she ought to go downstairs, before Michael came looking for her, so she stood carefully. Hope didn't stir, as Ellie left the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind her.
When she entered the living room again, she saw that Michael was stretched out on the sofa watching a documentary. He turned when he heard her and said,
"You were gone for ages — did she make a fuss?"
Ellie crossed her fingers behind her back and replied, "She didn't want me to leave her, so I waited until she fell asleep." Strictly speaking, it wasn't a lie — Hope was more than happy to have company, while she fell asleep.
He nodded. "Sit down and I'll make us a coffee."
Ellie hesitated and he noticed. "Don't worry — I won't bite," he said dryly.
She ignored the barb and sat down in the armchair again, anxious not be too close to him. When he returned with two mugs of coffee, she took one and said bluntly,
"We need to talk."
"Wow — you don't beat around the bush, do you?" Michael said with a surprised look.
"Not as a rule, no." She sipped the coffee and tried to sort out her chaotic thoughts. Michael stayed silent; evidently, he was waiting for her to make the first move.
Eventually, she spoke. "Tell me about Lisa. Did you love her?"
Michael flinched. For a moment, Ellie wished she had kept her mouth shut. But, then, she reasoned how would she know if their encounter was just another notch on his bedpost?
"Yes," he replied simply. He sank back onto the sofa, his brow furrowed with pain.
"I loved her very much."
"Then, why didn't you make the effort to be with her when you had the chance?"
"Because of Helen's illness."
Ellie hadn't known this and she felt wrong footed. "What was wrong with her?"
"Helen told me she had breast cancer. Our marriage had been over for a long time, but when she told me about the diagnosis, I couldn't just walk out on her. I decided to try again with her and stay — to help her deal with everything. Of course, at that point, I had no idea she lying to me.
Ellie stared at him in shock. "What are you saying?" she asked in disbelief, "that she made it all up?"
Michael laughed bitterly. "Yes, she'd concocted the whole story to keep me. I would still be in the dark, if it weren't for a chance meeting in a supermarket.
"She was meant to be at the hospital for a check-up. I wanted to go with her, but she didn't let me — she said she needed to be alone. Unfortunately for her, this time she'd told me her friend, Clare, was driving her there.
"Only Clare just happened to be in the supermarket when I went in for some shopping..."
Ellie was struggling to comprehend the scale of the lie his wife had told him. It was like something off Oprah.
"Clare seemed rather surprised when I asked her how come she wasn't at the hospital with Helen. She said she didn't know what I was talking about. So, I filled her in on a few things and between us we worked the rest out."
"How did you confront Helen?" Ellie asked.
His mouth curled in a caricature of a smile, but his eyes were stone cold. "I waited for her to come home and go off on her usual spiel about treatment plans and medication. Then, I told her I knew she was lying.
"At first, she tried to brazen it out, but when she realised I'd spoken to Clare, the party was over. We had tears and recriminations. She blamed me of course — said it was all my fault for having an affair and what else was she meant to do?"
Michael buried his face in his hands, as he recalled the screaming hysterics. It had been a horrible nightmare, one that he never hoped to live through again.
"But, by then, it was all too late. Lisa was long gone and although I tried to find her, she had disappeared. I had to live with the loss every single day. God knows if I'd had any idea of how things would turn out, I would have done it all differently."
"But, you didn't know," Ellie reminded him softly. "No one knows what's going to happen in the future. Well, not unless we're psychic!"
He smiled faintly at her terrible attempt to lighten the moment. "Why does it matter whether or not I loved Lisa?"
"Because ... I need to know if..." Ellie was the one who turned away now. She was starting to feel uncertain whether this conversation was going the way she had intended. "I need to know if the other night meant anything — or if it was just a 'quick fling'."
"Ellie, come over here." Michael patted the sofa beside him and fixed her with a firm look.
"Why?"
"Don't be so bloody stubborn!"
She sensed that they were on the verge of something here, and that scared her shitless. Nevertheless, she pushed her doubts aside and left the safety of the armchair for the enemy territory of the sofa.
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