unDESIRED

A

Jamie felt;

unDESIRED.

Even with the sweet trail of kisses Andrew was leaving down the side of her neck; hand lost in the silk material of her dress firmly groping her butt - she felt it.

Or with Kevin, her date, waiting patiently downstairs for her to retrieve the glass of Prosecco she had sent him for, a while ago. Praying he got caught up in the hustle and bustle of the party so he wouldn't be looking for her.

Sighing, she pushes at Andrew's solid frame sliding past him to take refuge on the edge of her bed. She twirls at the necklace she is wearing, a gold letter 'A', momentous for the first time they visited Crewe, a tiny coastal town.

Jamie did this often at work. Staring the office clock down, ready for her 8 hours to finish so she could close out the evening with hours of sex with Andrew.

Sometimes, she utilised the chain as a form of therapy, a reminder to reverse the current wave of emotion she was feeling. Anxiety; she would think back to the smooth rich tone of his voice and how the base was calming enough to soothe her to sleep. Anger; she would remember how controlled Andrew was. In tense situations he would never react irrationally, taking the time to think through his next move.

Twirling at the necklace now, she hoped for it to reverse the current bout of neglect she felt. Never in the entire 18 months of their love affair had she felt so undesired. This had been festering since the two announced their love for each other.

Stolen nights of sex had turned into dinner dates, weekend trips away to their favourite quaint town, business trips for two, attending sightings of new art work in the galleries Andrew owned. The two had everything that came with a relationship but the exclusivity of one.

The notion ate at Jamie a little. Gnawing away at the beacon of bliss that her moments with Andrew helped built. She wanted nothing more than to be able to brandish him as her own.

She wished a million times over that Andrew wasn't her brother's eldest friend of 16 years.

She wished a million times over that Andrew wasn't 12 years her senior so she wouldn't face judgement from her traditional family.

Above all, she wished that Andrew wasn't married to Serena. In fact, she spent countless nights with a sleeping Andrew at her side wishing for a time where the two had never met and got married.

Andrew had travelled the short way over to the bed and was crouched before Jamie. She was playing with the soft hairs of his dark, trimmed beard.  Andrew returned the action with light kisses to the centre of her palm before he broke the comfortable silence.

'What's worrying you, Jay?' Looking into his neptune eyes, Jamie searched for signs. Signs of deceit. Signs of false love. A sign that Andrew didn't really want her. That all those midnight vows he'd made to her were lies, lies told to get her back in his bed again. And again. She frowned when she couldn't find any.

'Do you think I'm worthy?' She asks fingers picking at the fly aways of his man bun.

'Worthy of?'

'Of being the one. Your one and only. Not the mistress. Not the other woman. The one. Just for you.'

Andrew's lips peel into a smile. 'Of course.'

'So why,' Jamie stops playing with the small strands of hair. 'Does being with you make me feel so undesired?"

Andrew's brows cross at the question, unable to answer at first. He always tried his level best to make Jamie feel wanted. A worthy recipient of love even if it was just his that she was receiving. He was well aware of the nature of their relationship though he held her in high regard to the connotation that came with it.