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Merrick
The moment I crawl off Davis’s lap, I want to kick myself.
I’m so damn weak for this man, unable to stay strong in the face of potential hope. Maybe that makes me a sap. Or maybe I’m just a pathetic weakling who likes pain.
Davis mutters a curse and immediately looks away as his eyes fill with tears. Goddamn him for his emotion. Damn him for showing up so unexpectedly and reminding me of all I’ve lost. Damn him for reminding me just how much I love his touch, his kiss, his body next to mine.
I force myself to look away when his feet hit the floor and he snaps off the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the bedside bin. His elbows come down onto his knees and he sits there with his head in his hands showing me clearly how distraught he is. I can only stand there and force myself to breathe in and out, trying like hell not to shiver each time I get a whiff of his scent on my skin.
I need space. A moment. A goddamn hour to get my head together. The last thing I ever expected was for him to show up at my door and effortlessly seduce me. Once more, I’ve been a fool for Davis Morgan. Will I never learn?
Turning to head into the bathroom, I hear a garbled, “What the hell have I done?” I’m instantly sick and equally pissed off at this man whom I love more than life itself. How the hell can he be airing his regrets when the sweat hasn’t even begun to dry?
Slamming the door behind me, I suck in breath after breath and attempt to calm my emotions. Tears flood my eyes—damn weak tears—and the loathing I feel for myself kicks up another notch. I’m such an idiot. I let myself be sucked in once more so damn easily. I barely fought against the need to make him mine, jubilant with the knowledge that he was unable to stay away.
He didn’t come back to me for love. He came back to get laid, to indulge in the secret part of himself that craves my touch. Love would have brought him back to me weeks ago, not in the dark of night and without so much as a phone call in the days between.
What little sanity I’ve managed to hold onto since our split is slowly eroding with the knowledge that I’m never going to be free of him, or ofthis. There will be those silent weeks, the days without phone calls, no outward show of emotion or devotion unless we’re alone. He’ll show up at my door like he did tonight, when it strikes his fancy, or when he’s just too horny to resist.Hell…for all I know he’s doing me and Chantal at the same time.
Nausea bleeds up my throat at the idea of him sharing such an intimate act with her. My head tells me that it would be perfectly normal and acceptable for them to share a marriage bed again, but my heart shatters beyond repair, thinking of her taking this part of him; the part I once craved and made mine so many times.
I should have spent the holiday with my family instead of hiding away and licking my wounds. I should have refused to answer the door earlier, kept that wall between him and me high and indestructible. My weakness has only reopened a gaping wound that refuses to heal.
Splashing water on my face, I glance at myself in the mirror and immediately cringe. The sated, content feeling that washed over me during my release has fled completely, leaving behind a tangible pain in my eyes and ashen skin. This train wreck that is my relationship with Davis needs to come to an end. A real end this time. No more waiting hopefully in the wings. No more days spent wondering if he’ll finally pick up the phone and call me. I’m a grown man who has been acting like a goddamn child; head in the clouds, self-preservation gone, heartache ruling my every move.
No more.
I wish I could face him fully dressed. My heavy emotions make me naked enough. I sure as hell don’t relish the thought of standing before him with no clothes on to cut those final ties. I’ve got to have some armor to protect myself, even though I’m smart enough to know that no amount of clothing or such will guard my heart from being trampled on again.
Pulling a towel around my hips, I close my eyes and pray for strength. Much as I did that morning he walked away, I need to be resolute in my belief that saying a permanent goodbye will be a good thing. For my own health, I have to let him go and I have to make him understand that we can’t keep doing this. ThatIcan’t keep doing this. It’s going to destroy me if it does.
Swallowing back the tears that threaten once more, I pull the bathroom door open. Davis is sitting in the exact same position, still completely naked, still too damn tempting.
Be strong, I tell myself.You have to do this. You must.
I remain silent until he finally lifts his head to look at me. I’m not surprised to see the same look of pain in his eyes that I just saw reflected in my own. Whatever there is between us, none of it has come easy. Most certainly none of it has been without lots of lots of agony. For both of us.
“I won’t do this again,” I state, my voice sounding hollow and lacking emotion. When he makes a move to stand, my initial reaction is to take a step back, my shoulders hitting the wall behind me with a thud. “If you ever cared about me, ever loved me at all, you’ll leave and never come back.”
He blinks repeatedly, fighting back tears that flood his eyes, his vain attempt to remain strong even though I’m deliberately severing his heart from mine. Doesn’t he know I’m weak for his emotions, for this raw part of himself that he’s guarded so closely for so long? Doesn’t he understand that I’m barely hanging on, that cutting ties with him for good this time is hurting me in ways even I can’t comprehend?
“Please tell me you hear me and that you will honor what we once meant to one another. Grant me this.” My throat is burning, sobs bursting to come forth. Damn him for making me this needy, this weak. “I cannot do this anymore, Davis. I need you to let me go.”
I’m such a fraud for saying all this, especially when I want only the opposite. I want to get down on my knees and beg him to stay. I want to plead my case and convince him that we are worth trying for; that the two of us deserve as much of a second chance as he’s willing to give Chantal.
I gasp at my own thoughts and force my eyes elsewhere. The man is married, for crying out loud. And even though he just bedded me, the fact is that he intends to stay married. I know this undeniably, without him saying one word. What we have now is nothing more than some cheap affair.
“Please, Davis….I need you to leave.”
I refuse to look at him as I hear him gathering up his clothes and pulling them on. He doesn’t even bother with his shoes, just pads barefoot to the door. I hear him pause there—maybe he’s looking at me, maybe he’s pissed off and searching for the perfect words to make me bleed more profusely. But after that momentary hesitation there’s only soft footsteps retreating down the hall and finally the sound of the front door clicking shut behind him.
In all the times we’ve been together, I’ve never felt as used as I do in this moment. It’s dumb really….it’s not like the man forced himself on me.Hell…could I have been more willing? So now here I am, once more left with the scent of his skin on mine, evidence of our lovemaking surrounding me. The condom wrapper on the floor and the lube caught up in the sheets shouldn’t make me feel cheap, but somehow they do. And the kicker is I brought it all on myself. I could have said no. I should have shut the door in his face. I shouldn’t have melted into his touch, craved his kiss, sought release from his body.
I need distance. I need time. I need to get my head together and figure out what my next step is. I cannot do any of that with the knowledge that he’s right next door and going home to the woman he exchanged vows with years ago; the woman who will always have the place in his life where I want to stand, but never will.
Grasping my phone, I set about to do the one thing I have full control over when all else is fleeting and uncertain: I’m going to walk away.
