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“Me too, honey,” I say. “The time will fly by, and they’ll be back before we know it.”
They’ll be back, and once more they’ll be the band-aid that holds us together.
I can’t bear this. I can’t stand to hear Elle crying. I have to make this right. Somehow. I turn my own lamp off, dropping my book to the ground. I wrap my arm around Elle’s waist. I think I feel her stiffen for a moment, but she relaxes quickly, and I think I imagined it. At least I hope I did.
My cock stiffens as her ass presses against it. I can’t help it. Even now, her touch sets me on fire, makes me want her. I start to move my hand lower, trailing my fingers down her stomach. She grabs my hand, stopping me from moving lower, but she doesn’t push me away. She just holds my hand, clinging tightly to it, and even though she isn’t responding to my touch how I would like, her grip gives me hope.
We lie in the darkness, clinging to each other’s hand, clinging to the hope we still have left. I wait until she’s asleep and then I kiss her shoulder and whisper into her ear, finally daring to voice my fear now she isn’t awake to tell me that’s exactly what she’s going to do.
“I’ll do better, Elle. I swear. Just don’t leave me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELLE
To say the weekend was awkward would be a fucking understatement. I knew Falcon wouldn’t be too happy about my job, but I didn’t expect him to react in the way he did. I expected him to resist a little, but the way he tried to forbid me from taking this job riled me more than I thought it would.
If someone had told me it would go the way it did, I wouldn’t have even thought about taking the job, but once I had, and once Falcon made it clear he thinks I’m nothing but a pretty face and a tight ass, I knew I had to do this.
We spent the weekend pretending everything was okay. Going on with our days like normal. Falcon popped into the office for a couple hours, and then we went out and had lunch. We spent the afternoon quietly ignoring each other, each of us going to say something and then changing our minds. Eventually, he did speak up. He asked me if I wanted to go out and I said yes although I didn’t really.
We went to a loud bar, the kind where you go to drink and dance and not communicate. We got tipsy and went home. We should have made love then. We should have had a session to rival all sessions, but once we got into bed, it was like Falcon was afraid to touch me.
It was my fault. He tried to touch me on Friday night, and I stopped him. At that moment, I just needed to be held. I thought he knew that, but it seems he took it as a rejection, and now he’s punishing me by rejecting me right back.
We spent a hungover Sunday lazing around watching movies. Anything to fill the silence that is growing between us. Typically, we endure hangovers in bed together, cuddled up and watching movies in bed, fucking and dozing. But not yesterday. We watched movies in the living room on opposite ends of the couch, not touching, barely daring to look at each other.
When the twins called us, they must have thought we both lost our minds. They must have heard the excitement in our voices that we were able to have a healthy, unstrained conversation. I hope they didn’t pick up on too much of it, that they just thought it was their uncool parents being overly attached to them.
I don’t know what to do to reach Falcon anymore. There was a time I would have known exactly what to do. I would have taken him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. We would have gotten all of the frustration out by making each other come. And then we would have talked. Now though, we don’t do anything except drift further away from each other, and I’m scared that we won’t find our way back.
On Friday night, once Falcon thought I was asleep, he whispered to me that he’d do better and begged me not to leave him. I wanted so badly to turn to him, to tell him I’d never leave him and kiss away his pain. But I didn’t. I was angry, and I was stubborn, and I didn’t do it. It was too late the next morning. I couldn’t admit I’d heard him, because then I would have also been acknowledging that I’d just ignored him.
“Elle? Are you alright?”
I pull myself out of my head. It’s my first day on this job, and already I’m too distracted to pay attention to Franklin’s training. Was Falcon right all along? It sure feels like I’m not cut out for this shit. But it would be different if Falcon had supported me. Then my mind could focus on the job in front of me.
