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It was a reminder.
It was a security blanket.
Right now I needed it.
Stop.
I could walk to the kitchen. Open the refrigerator. Let the blast of cold air ease the unpleasantness from my mind.
Yes, it would be easier.
Much easier than…
I unzipped the pocket slow
ly and withdrew the sharp razor blade. I sat back down on the bed and regarded the scar on my upper thigh. It was still red, but it had healed. If I left it alone, it would eventually turn white and then gradually fade over the years.
Slowly, I lowered the blade to my flesh.
But the note caught my gaze once more. Why torture myself?
I couldn’t help it. The words called to me like a gruesome accident I couldn’t look away from, no matter how much I didn’t want to see.
Because I did want to see. My rite of self-flagellation. Words would cut deeper than any blade ever could.
So I read them once more. Imagined his low and sexy voice uttering each one.
Marjorie,
* * *
I’m leaving, and I don’t want you to pursue me. I can’t deny our physical attraction, but I have no emotional ties to you. I’ll be working on the ranch and living in the guesthouse, but I’ll stay as far away from you as I possibly can. I need to be alone now. I can’t have my attention diverted by my best friend’s little sister. I need to give everything I have to my new position and to my son and mother. I don’t need an extra distraction in my life. Nothing happened between us, and nothing more will ever happen. You are Joe’s sister, nothing more.
* * *
Bryce
Such stilted words, as if he were addressing an audience of foreign dignitaries rather than a woman he’d just made love to.
A distraction? I was only a distraction?
Joe’s sister? Nothing more?
Such coldness. No sorrow. No pleading with me to understand. Nothing but hurtful and icy words.
Thank God I hadn’t told him I loved him.
Oh, I’d been thinking it. Through all those orgasms, I’d been saying it over and over in my mind.
Once more I let the blade hover over my scarred flesh.
How easy it would be to slice into myself, allow the physical pain to overwhelm the emotional.
No. No. No.
I rose, still naked, and ran into the kitchen. The refrigerator loomed white and tall. My savior. I opened it and stood in the corner between the door and the shelves, letting the cold air waft over me.
My nipples puckered and goose bumps erupted on my skin.
