"Curiosity, have you heard from Truetouch lately?" my friend Deirdre asked me in the chat room one night.
"Not for a couple of days," I replied. Not since the day Javier had informed me that we were just friends with benefits. I knew he was busy with work, and he'd said he still wanted to see me, but I couldn't help thinking that his lack of contact was because he was still annoyed that my friends had considered us a couple.
"You two are coming to the meet and greet weekend after next, right?" Deirdres asked.
"As far as I know." I felt queasy at the thought. Javier had mentioned the meet and greet to me, but although I'd agreed to go I felt like it would be a mistake. Something negative was going to happen there, and I couldn't figure out what or how to get out of going.
"That's good," Deirdre said. "You two make such a good couple."
"We aren't a couple," I typed quickly. "We're just friends."
"Honey, I saw you two at the last meet and greet. That wasn't just friends."
Fortunately, someone asked a question about the party Deirdre was planning, which took her attention off me. I didn't want to talk about the discussion Javier and I'd had, or about how angry he'd seemed when some of my friends had told him to treat me well. I couldn't understand why he still wanted to see me if he was so concerned that people not think of us as a couple, but I hadn't had a chance to ask him. And I was learning that asking Javier questions like that irritated him.
While I was in the chat room, my cell rang. Hoping it was Javier, I picked it up and was disappointed to see my ex-husband's number. He was the last person I wanted to talk to, but if I didn't answer, he would keep calling until I did. I sighed and flipped open the phone. "Hello?"
"Sorry to bug you, but I thought you might care that my grandmother's sick."
I rolled my eyes. He didn't apologize for bugging me when he called to ask where he'd left some paperwork I didn't even know about, or when he'd called me at Javier's to accuse me of taking off for a piece of ass. He knew damn well that I still liked his family. This was just his way of being a jerk. "What's wrong with her?" I asked.
"Like it matters to you."
I gritted my teeth so I wouldn't yell. "If it didn't matter, I wouldn't have asked. And if you're going to be an ass, I'll hang up."
He knew I meant it, and for whatever sick reason he couldn't take me hanging up on him. "They think she might have had a stroke. She's in the hospital. I'm not going to see her; I hate those places."
I remembered. I'd had surgery once during the marriage and he hadn't come to see me. Hadn't even bothered bringing me to and from the hospital; I'd had to ask my parents to do that. And while I'd been home recovering, my ex had called me a lazy bitch along with a few other choice names, and had refused to do any of the housework because I was home all day and was apparently supposed to do it.
"Thanks for letting me know," I said.
"Are you going to go see her? Or can't you tear yourself away from your new fuck buddy?"
"He isn't a fuck buddy." Tears stung my eyes. I should have known it would come back to this. My ex had never been able to stand other men even looking at me, and nothing had changed now that we were divorced.
"Yeah, right. What do you call it? You're such a fucking liar. You told me you hated sex when we were married, and now you go off to Massachusetts to fuck some guy you barely know? What is he, black or something?"
"What the hell does his race have to do with anything?" I didn't even bother responding to his accusations about sex. Those hurt a lot, but I was used to them. I wasn't going to let him put Javier down, though.
"He lives in Massachusetts."
"So everyone who lives in Massachusetts is black? You've just taken ignorance to new heights. Most of my friends in Massachusetts are white."
"I've heard things."
He was lying. Even though I was friends with some of his family members, including his mother, I hadn't told anyone about Javier. "You've only heard your own prejudice," I said. "I'm hanging up."
"So he is black?"
"What an idiot! No, he's not black. If you really want to know, he's Latino. Happy now? Get out of my face."
"Latino? That's just fucking great, Adrienne. Why can't you stick with your own kind?"
"I stick with people who are intelligent and respectful. Unlike you. I'm hanging up." This time, I did.
He called back a few times, but I didn't answer, and he finally gave up. I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd always been prejudiced, and some of our worst arguments had occurred when he'd caught me looking at men of other races. I wasn't quite sure how he'd taken the fact that Javier lived in Massachusetts to mean that Javier wasn't white, but then again, he'd made wilder accusations.
The final time he called, he left a voice mail. "You're nothing but a fucking whore, Adrienne, and I hope you're happy. No other man would want you anyway."
I wanted to throw the phone against the wall. How could he say that? Not that it was different from anything he'd ever said to me. I hated him! What fucking right did he have to treat me that way? I wasn't even his wife anymore; my personal life was none of his goddamn business!
I brought my arm back to fling the phone, but just as I was about to let go of it, it rang again. I figured it was him, but this time it was Javier. I swallowed hard to keep my anger and tears from showing in my voice and answered. "Hello?"
"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.
"Nothing."
"Bull. I can hear it in your voice. What happened?"
I curled up on the couch. "I just got another phone call from my ex."
"Adrienne, why do you answer the phone when he calls? You know the man can't treat you respectfully. Why do you keep exposing yourself to that? You're stronger than that."
When Javier said I was strong, I almost believed it. That was about the only time I did. I'd been strong enough to leave my ex, but that had been a matter of survival more than anything, and it had taken me far too long to make the decision. Then again, I hadn't felt like I deserved to be treated any better than what my ex gave me. I still sometimes wondered whether I did.
"He calls until I answer," I said.
"Then you shut off the ringer. I keep telling you that, don't I? You don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to. What did he say tonight?"
"He called me a whore, and he insulted you."
"Me? Why?"
I hesitated. I didn't want Javier to know what my ex had really said; it would just make him angry. My stomach twisted at the thought. "Just more of the crap like he said when I was at your place last weekend."
"I hope you told him I'm a piece of cock, not a piece of ass."
That got a laugh out of me, as it had the first time Javier had said it. "I didn't tell him that, but I'll make sure he's aware."
"Are you aware of it?"
"Yes, I think I've experienced your piece of cock."
"And was it a good experience?"
"Very good," I said.
"One you'd like to repeat?"
"Definitely."
"So you'd like to feel my long, thick cock inside your hot, wet pussy again?"
It was pretty clear where this conversation was going, and I was glad to let it go there. Anything to take my mind off the conversation with my ex. I sat on the couch and put my feet up. "I'd love to feel that."
"You would, huh? And what would you do first?"
"I'd suck your cock."
"You'd take my thick cock into your mouth and suck it? You'd lick my shaft and tongue my balls until I was ready to empty my come into your waiting mouth?"
Damn, why did he have to be so far away? If he'd been closer, I would have jumped in my car, driven to him, and fucked him silly. The man was a master at phone sex, no question, and he never failed to make me so horny I could hardly stand it. "Yes, I would," I said.
"Would you rim my ass?"