Prologue
… To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you…
Marriage vows. What a fucking joke. Is that what he thought when he “pledged himself” to her? Did he ever imagine breaking those vows one day? Is infidelity inevitable? Are married couples simply fooling and deluding themselves when they vow to “love and cherish” one another? I thought about these things quite often, especially when I was tangled in his arms, naked, exposed from inside out, like I was in that moment.
Everything about this man had captivated me from the second we crossed paths… twice. The first time our worlds collided, it was a unique experience, to say the least… a digital collision of energies. It happened one night last year when I couldn’t sleep. Insomnia usually creeped up on me in cycles like it did that winter, so I was bored in bed, restless and lonely. I had decided to hop online and found some random chat site where I blocked a plethora of horny pervs, until someone worth talking to messaged me. I still remembered his opening line: “Give me a reason why I should invest my precious time and energy in you.”
The cocky bastard had messaged me first, and of all the things he could have said, he had introduced himself with nothing but an air of arrogance. That alone should have repelled me. His chat username should have been warning enough for me to block and move on: LucifersFall… but I couldn’t. I was intrigued by this stranger who was carefully hidden and protected behind the invisible barrier of the world-wide-web. I had no idea what he looked like, how old he was, whether he was a deranged psychopath, or a sociopathic narcissist; all I knew was that if his intention had been to reel me in, he had been successful.
Much to my surprise, this mysterious stranger had turned out to be quite a heartthrob, a sexy silver fox in his early forties. The first time I saw his photo, I was taken back by the intensity of his bright blue eyes; they made me feel as if he was piercing through my soul. I didn’t like to feel vulnerable around anyone. I hadn’t even met him in person and his picture had the power to make me feel… exposed.
A quiet intensity: that summed him up. Adam’s facial features were so attractive, salt and pepper beard and hair, clipped short; impeccable fashion sense, whether he was dressed in formal or casual attire. He made clothing look good because it was on his body, which was mouth wateringly delicious. He clearly worked out and took care of himself, though it was easy to notice as soon as he had sent me multiple bathroom selfies, showing off his sculpted physique. I was a sucker for broad shoulders and muscular arms. Perfection was simply impossible to achieve, but his body was perfect to me. It stirred nothing but desire in the pit of my stomach.
Despite our initial surface attraction, I was still quite guarded. For starters, Adam was married—with kids, and he wasn’t looking to change his situation. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for at that time, but I was afraid to get involved with a married man. As a professional photographer, he was passionate about his career and often requested that I send him new and up to date selfies of myself for his eyes only.
My photo exchanges with him were quite tame compared to the photos and videos we share with each other now at present. He didn’t know that I struggled with body dysmorphia. At twenty-seven, I had suffered through a variety of eating disorders throughout my life that included: anorexia and binge-eating, all of which had accumulated to years’ worth of psychological pain and self-loathing. From the outside looking in, no one would have suspected that I had self-esteem issues. I had no problem turning heads and often attracted attention to myself whenever I stepped into a room. What people didn’t know was that it was all an act… a façade. My mask served its purpose in projecting confidence, and I did my best to make sure that it never cracked in public. This was no different when I logged on as the virtual version of myself online. To me, people were scary and unpredictable. I was always in a state of self-preservation.
I didn’t feel a hundred percent emotionally safe with Adam at that time, yet I found it difficult to stop myself from chatting with him. There was the Biblical allusions of our names that made it seem like our connection had a deeper meaning and purpose. Yet, he’d made it clear that his intention was to engage in a sexual relationship with an ideal partner, and although I knew I was at risk if I continued chatting with him, I couldn’t resist. Intuitively, I had felt that there was something more beneath the surface—that maybe, just maybe… he was wearing a mask as well.
It seemed to be a blessing in disguise when I became overwhelmed with my studies. We had chatted on Skype for about a month before I told him that I could no longer stay consistent with our discussions because I was in grad school and was struggling to balance my studies and social life. I buried myself with work when it came to academics and was prone to frequent panic attacks; I hated feeling like I was underperforming. Adam knew I was working hard towards an M.A. in English, but he had no idea who I really was behind my mask. We were both wearing masks the first time around, proud, and a bit prejudiced.
I thought he was arrogant, shallow, and selfish, and he thought I was stuck up and uninterested in him. I guess that explained why he pulled away and stopped chatting with me when I told him I wouldn’t be around as often. Men and their fragile egos… sigh.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by our sudden loss of contact. I remember logging on to Skype a few weeks after to try and message him, only to realize that I had been blocked. At the time, this only reinforced my unwavering conviction that most men were assholes, and in order to cope with the disappointment, I did my best to erase him and our conversations from my mind altogether. Little did I know, my entire world would be flipped upside down when I ran into him a year later… in person.
Part I
Living in New York City meant that you had to deal with big city traffic on the daily. Fortunately for me, commuting through the subway and opting for Uber, made my life a little bit easier. As a Canadian girl, I was completely out of my element when I made the move from Toronto in June. Autumn was my second favorite season and Central Park was gorgeous during this time of year. I was nearly late for my appointment as I stepped out of a cab and rushed inside a five-story building that looked like a remodeled warehouse condo.
I needed some professional headshots for my LinkedIn profile and had set up a session at a private studio. One of my coworkers had recommended a photographer who was a good friend of hers. All I had to do was show up looking sleek, with a few changes of clothes, freshly laundered and ironed. I had some hair and makeup products in my handbag and I practically drove myself crazy the night before trying to find my “good angle” in the mirror. I wasn’t ever a fan of taking photos of myself and I hated forcing a smile for anyone, much less “the camera.”
My colleague, Sarah, had insisted that her friend was a fantastic photographer and that she’d immediately make me feel at ease during the shoot. At a discount rate, I couldn’t refuse. As I made my way up the elevator, I glanced at my watch and was relieved to find that I was right on time: 10am sharp.
My heels echoed behind me when I made my way down a hallway that led to a large steel door. I rang the buzzer and a few seconds later, the heavy door slid open.
“Good morning, Eve! Come on in. I’m Peter, Karen’s intern.”
I was greeted by a tall, slender man, dressed in all black, a red bowtie, with a flamboyant personality. His pompadour hairstyle complimented his platinum blond hair. As an empath, I could easily absorb people’s energy, and he was certainly high vibration.
“Unfortunately, Karen had to leave last minute,” said Peter. “Family emergency.”
“Oh, no.” I frowned, shaking off my coat. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, nothing too serious. She didn’t want to cancel the shoot, so she told me to stay behind. There’s another photographer who is on his way right as we speak. He should be here soon.”
I was blown away by Karen’s workspace; her loft was beautiful… high ceilings, monochromatic furniture, hardwood floors, arched windows; it looked like a place that was taken right out of Architectural Digest. The open concept design was illuminated with natural light that poured in from the windows.
Peter led me down a hall into a room where I could change and freshen up. He told me that if I needed anything, I should holler. When he finally left, I decided to change my black blouse to a white one. I was wearing a high waisted, black pencil skirt with black stilettos. As a natural brunette, I had dyed my hair auburn in the summer and had recently retouched the roots for the shoot; it was styled in waves, brushing past my breasts. Being a big-chested woman meant that I had to be extra mindful of my cleavage.
I finished buttoning up my blouse and retouched my hair and makeup before I stood in front of a trifold full-length mirror. Satisfied with my reflection, I practiced a couple of smiles and expressions before I scoffed and rolled my eyes, feeling stupidly silly.
It wasn’t long before I heard a knock, followed by Peter’s chipper voice.
“Just letting you know that our photographer has arrived! We’re ready whenever you are, Eve!”
I was nervous about being photographed, especially by a man. Everything that had gone down with my ex had left me with nothing but heartache and PTSD from that toxic relationship. It was two years of my life that I’d wasted… the things he had put me through. I stole a moment to calm my nerves before I opened the door and stepped out.
Music was echoing around me, getting louder as I walked down the narrow hallway and entered the professional space. There was a white backdrop that was set up near a wall, some lighting and camera equipment. Peter was busy adjusting the lights before I turned and noticed a tall man, hovering near a table with his back to me. He was dressed in skinny gray suit pants that really showed off his trim waist and amazing ass. His white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing an expensive apple watch on his left wrist: caramel brown leather cuff. His salt and pepper hair indicated that he was an older gentleman.
