Page 93 of Beautiful Monster

Her eyes meet mine and she saunters over with a sly smile on her face. “Alexander Caldwell,” she says in a singsong tone. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Diana is beautiful with her honey blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. I was always attracted to her, even for the ten years I knew her as Tyson’s wife, before the first time I acted on it. She reached out to me a couple times after the divorce, but I couldn’t bear to answer back. The memories were too painful. Plus, Diana isn’t the type of woman to cling. Her marriage to Tyson was on the fritz anyway—everyone knew that, but I still lost everything regardless.

“Hello, Diana,” I answer with a smile.

She comes in for a hug, and I wrap my hands around her shoulders.

“I heard you got yourself all settled down in the suburbs,” she whispers, touching my cheek in a loving gesture. “I was glad to hear it.”

“I’m actually here with my girlfriend,” I say, pointing toward where Sunny is crowded by a few of the art lovers I don’t know.

Diana nods, knowingly. I assume before she says anything that she already saw plenty of pictures of us together.

“She’s precious, Alexander. Keeping you in line, I hope.”

With a small laugh, I nod. “She is.”

Just then, a roar of laughter breaks out on the other side of the room, and we both glance in that direction to see the crowd around Sunny howling, her included, and I can’t help but admire how she glows in this moment. She’s in her element, far more than I’ve seen her in either my backyard or her mother’s.

“Wanna grab a smoke?” Diana asks, pulling a pack out of her small purse.

I don’t smoke anymore, but the idea of stepping outside to escape the bright lights and noise sounds good. “What the hell,” I answer with a smile. We head for the back of the gallery, and I’m about to stop and tell Sunny where I’m going, but she seems to be having such a good time, I don’t want to bother her. So, I slip outside with Diana instead.

When she hands me a cigarette and a light, I inhale, savoring how much it burns. It’s been years since I last lit up, except for the occasional smoke when I’m so drunk, I can’t even feel what it’s doing to my throat. It burns, and I resist the urge to cough as it assaults my lungs.

Sunny will probably hate the way these make me smell.

“You look good,” Diana says with a soft smile. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Thanks,” I reply through a puff of smoke. “You do too.”

“Your new girl reminds me of that model you dated a couple years back. The one we went to the movie premier with.”

It takes me a moment to remember the face, but I know the girl’s name was Esther.

“She was young, too,” she teases me.

“No, she wasn’t.” I laugh. “She was at least twenty…something.”

A sweet cackle escapes Diana’s lips as she pulls another drag from her cigarette. “How old are you now?”

“Fuck you,” I snap back as she giggles.

Diana stares at me for a few long moments with a hooded expression in her eyes.

“How long will this one last?” she asks with a gravelly texture in her voice.

I don’t answer. It’s like I’m suddenly seeing my own behavior from outside my body. Why am I standing out here with someone I very recently fucked when I should be inside proving to the woman I love that I can be a loyal boyfriend?

I don’t want to fuck Diana. The old me would have, but how long after Sunny leaves will I return to the old me? What if I come out during those six months and run into another beautiful old hookup?

“I should go,” I say, ignoring her question.

“Alexander, I’m sorry,” she mutters, so I stop and turn back toward her.

“I’m not…” Not what? Not who I used to be? Not one of those guys who preys on someone younger and more vulnerable for their own precious gain. Is that even true?

Am I one of those guys?