Memories - The Break Part 2

I did the thing I told myself I wouldn’t do, the thing I shouldn't do. The morning after Emily had dinner with a man, a dinner date, I brought her coffee like I always did.

I was wearing dress slacks and a button-down shirt and a tie. But underneath, I was wearing a pair of black "stay soft and tucked" panties, a matching bra, a garter belt, and black stockings. I didn't have to, but I was. She didn't ask me to; I wanted to. It was me now.

I walked into her office carrying a thermos of coffee and two cups. She was standing, looked at me when I walked in, gave me that smile. She was wearing a short gray skirt, a black short-sleeved blouse, sheer black hose, and heels.

"You brought me coffee," she said with a smile that made my stomach drop. It was half kind, half pitiful.

"Of course," I said, "why wouldn't I?"

She gave me that smile again. "I...I just thought...you don't have to...not the day after I..."

"Had a date?" I said with a smile.

"It was dinner," she said.

"Emily..."

"Dinner," she said, emphasizing the point.

"A dinner date," I said, contradicting her.

"Fine, a dinner date," she said. "The point is that you don't have to bring me coffee in the morning after I have a dinner date."

I swallowed, looked at her legs. "I...I wanted to," I said.

"My little dove," she said.

"Emily..." I didn't know what to say so I sat, poured the coffee. I saw her glance down, smile. "What?" I followed her gaze, saw her looking at my ankle where my trousers met my shoe.

"You're wearing stockings," she said, half question, half statement.

"I...I just felt like..."

"Like it was appropriate?"

"Like it was appropriate," I said. "It just seems...right..."

"Around me?"

"Around you," I said.

"You're so sweet," she said.

"How...how was your dinner...the...the date?"

She looked at me. "I don't know if...," she said.

"It's okay," I said.

"You thought about it all night," she said.

"Of course," I said.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know," I said.

She bit her lip, looked away.

"You don't have to say anything," I said.

"You thought about it all night," she said again.

"I...I can't help it, Emily," I said.

"I know," she said. She sipped her coffee. "I feel like I'm holding onto you when I should be letting you go." She crossed her legs; her skirt rode up and I couldn't help looking at her her nylon covered legs.

"I...I don't want to be let go," I said, feeling my throat tighten.

"What are you going to do? Just wait for me to let you go?"

"I don't want to be let go," I said again.

"Sweetie..."

"Did you...you don't have to tell me, I just want to...it's okay...if you did..."

"It was just a casual dinner," she said.

"Not even a kiss?"

"Maybe a kiss," she said.

"A chaste kiss or a passionate kiss?"

"Sweetie," she said.

"It's okay," I said.

"In between," she said.

"He wanted to...you know..."

"Of course he wanted to," she said, "that's what men do, that's what men want. That's what they always want. They're not like...

"Me?" I offered, eyes downcast, my stomach churning, my throat tightening, close to tears.

"Like you."

"It's...if you do," I said, "I...I won't be...mad..."

"I'm not being fair to you," she said.

"I'm an adult," I said.

"He...he asked me out...tomorrow," she said.

"You said yes?"

She nodded. "You don't have to bring me coffee in the morning," she said.

"I know," I said, "I want to, it's...it's important to me."

"And what if I...what if we...you know...if he and I..."

"I'll still bring you coffee," I said, "that won't change."

"And still wear your pretty things," she asked with a smile.

"I can't put that part of me away," I said.

"I like that part of you," she said, "I always have and I always will."

"Emily..."

"I know," she said, "it doesn't change anything, does it?"

"I just..."

"I...you don't have to ask."

"I...I can't help it," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"It...it's just who I am," I said.

"I really should let you go," she said, "it's not fair."

"I'll tell you when it's not fair," I said.

"Promise?"

"Promise," I said. She smiled, sipped her coffee. "Are you...seeing him again?"

"He asked me out on Saturday," she said.

"I...I wondered about that," I said. We had long standing plans to go to this dinner theater thing together and I assumed that was off now that we were just friends.

"I told him I had plans," she said, "but that I could change them."

"I...I assumed," I said. "I never...I mean..."

"I don't want to change them," she said.

"Emily..."

"I told him we could go out next week," she said, "I told him I had plans I didn't want to change. Unless you want me to."

"I..."

"You're already thinking about it, aren't you?" Her voice was soft, understanding.

"Emily," I said.

"It's okay," she said, "I understand."

"I...I can't help it," I said.

"I know," she said. "Do you want me to go or wait a week?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'd like to keep our plans," she said, "if you want to, too."

"Okay," I said.

"So Saturday we'll do our thing, I'll go out with him next week."

"Okay," I said, "okay."

I knew this was stupid, I knew going out with my now ex-girlfriend who I still loved was stupid, knew thinking about her with a man was stupid. I knew all of this but I couldn’t help it and I did it anyway.

Part 3 will be about the dinner theater thing.

Obviously this all has a happy ending. But I still wanted to tell about it.