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Though his eyes are lowered to the ground, James straightens my shirt so my backside is covered. We’re alone out here. No one could see us unless they came onto the deck of our private pavilion. He didn't have to cover me—he chose to.
A tear slips from the corner of my eye. He takes a step away from me like he's ready to leave and I gasp. It feels like there's hundreds of miles between us now and not a few inches. He takes another step and my knees start to buckle.
I can't handle this and need to rectify it.
"Wait," I plead, and James stops. "Don't leave me, please."
Finally, he looks at me, and I almost crumble to the ground.
James is fucking shattered. Worse than me. Absolutely gutted.
My chest feels like it's caving in while being torn apart with two bare hands. I'm struggling to breathe while James looks like he's dying inside.
What did I do to the man who has done nothing but love me for who I am? Who didn't try to change me but let my wings flap with the wind? Who's tried to make me smile every single day by showing me how much one could love another human?
I broke him.
I want to reach for him, but I can't. All I can do is grab the hem of my shirt and tug on it like it's supporting me. I can't ask him for anything, not after I quietly rejected his proposal.
His eyes, though. I see the way he looks at me. They scream devastation.
James subtly shakes his head in disbelief. He takes two steps toward me and I reach for him at the same time, needing to feel his skin on mine, hoping it'll give me a sign that we're going to be okay. He palms the back of my head and threads his fingers through my hair. I lean in and meet him halfway. He presses his lips to the top of my head, then steadies himself.
"Contrary to what you think, I can't leave you. Not even if I wanted to."
A soft whimper escapes my trembling lips, followed by a louder one. My back is vibrating with emotion while my heart rips wide open. I'm shaking in his arms while he feels as steady as a rock. I know he's not steady, though. I know he's breaking inside, just like I am. We’re two peas in a pod.
James cups my jaw and tilts my head up, bringing my eyes to meet his. Steel baby blues shift back and forth between mine. James studies me. His brows deepen together like he’s trying to figure out where he went wrong, how his calculations were off.
He shakes his head again before blowing out a breath of surrender onto my lips. "Not even if I wanted to…" James presses a hard, brutal kiss to my mouth. He breaks it just as fast, leaving me breathless. "I guess I'll just have to deal with it."
Letting go of me, James steps back then turns around and strides into our room.
I guess I'll just have to deal with it.
The wind picks up and whips around my bare legs, veiling me with loneliness. My toes curl into the deck floor and I can feel the pressure of the ocean push up into the wooden planks that hold up our room. Like it's knocking into my chest and filling my lungs.
With a hand to my neck, I fall into the chair I sat in earlier.
I became what he divorced.
He's settling for me even though it makes him unhappy. Settling had been the crux of his previous marriage, and why he'd been so miserable. Why he'd been a member of Sanctuary Cove. The sole reason we met and connected is now the same reason we’re on the verge of a messy breakup, because this isn't just a conversation about what we're eating for dinner. This is our future fused together by two rings and a piece of paper.
Fear is two hands pressing on my throat. I'm terrified I'm going to push him in the direction of another
woman just like his ex-wife did. She didn't satisfy him sexually, and now I don't satisfy him emotionally. Emotionally, sexually, physically connecting to another person, these are the three basic needs a person with a beating heart seeks every day. You can't have one and not the other. It doesn't work like that, because then you'll always be searching for what you don't have in someone else.
With James and me there was no searching. We were satisfied in every area of our relationship. Until tonight.
Glancing to my side, I eye the bottle of cognac we left open and grab it by the neck.
I don't bother with a glass.
Pulling up my leg, I rest my elbow on my knee then bring the bottle to my lips. I take deep pull after deep pull, until my throat burns and I feel like I could blow flames from my nose. I drink until the last bit of amber liquid that was left is gone.
I toss the empty glass bottle onto James's empty chair and pray to God history doesn't repeat itself.
Twelve
