Page 6 of One More Night


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“I’d like that, but you do know owning a business could mean falling into that same rut again,” I suggest, remembering what Celeste went through starting her salon, Wylder talking about all of the hours he worked to get his casino and hotel up and off the ground.

“That’s why I’m bringing in partners as well as assistants. I want to be the owner, but not so much so that I’m controlling every facet of the firm.” Mace stands up. I take one last sip of my coffee because even if I don’t take the time to see his office, there’s no way I’m going to sit here alone all night.

“It seems like you have it all planned out. I’ll be right back.” The girl who was singing when we walked in still is, and there’s a tip jar. Her voice was soft, soothing, as if she was humming a lullaby. Truthfully, it probably held my emotions in check when Mace gave me all the words I wished for last year. Fate is a fickle bitch, and it seems I’m destined to be at the receiving end of this cruel fucking joke of this thing we call life.

EIGHT

Mace

I let her go,even though every muscle in my body was screaming at me to go after my girl. I didn’t, not yet at least. I watch as she puts a few bills in the open guitar case of the woman who’s singing. The lady smiles and nods at Tyra, and I can see the deep breath she inhales before turning around. One thing is for certain: I’m not letting her go, not like I did last time. I’ll fight with every dying breath if it means I’ll wake up with my wife and fall asleep with her like we did before I chased after a dollar. I can see Tyra’s barely holding it together, trying to hold it in, not shedding a tear in front of a sea of people or myself. There’s a slew of adjectives I could use when it comes to her—strong, independent, loving, giving, and there’s also stubborn to the bone, going so far as to not cry until she’s locked in the bathroom, shower running with her inside it. I found her like that once. It was after receiving the news that Tyra’s dad had a heart attack and needed triple bypass surgery. Von had just turned one. The minute our boy was in bed, she ran into the bathroom. I gave her a few minutes before I followed her inside the shower, back to the tile floor, Tyra’s arms wrapping around my neck, head buried as close as she could possibly get, and that’s when my wife let her guard down.

“Two minutes, siren, just a hundred and twenty seconds. Can you hold on until then?” My arm goes around her shoulder. Instinctively, she slides closer to me, the quaking in her shoulders telling me she may not last too much longer. “You okay with leaving your car here?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m breaking down. I swore to myself that I’d quit crying over things that I have zero control over, and here I am, blubbering all over you.” She pulls back. My eyes lock on hers.

“Siren, you let it out. I’m the cause for this, and I’ll be there to wipe every tear you shed and hold you while you get it out.” We walk out of the small café, me guiding her towards the restaurant.

“I’m not going to cry.” Tyra blinks her eyes rapidly, attempting to keep her emotions in check all while her hand slides beneath my suit jacket, fingers digging into my side. There isn’t an inch of space between us. I shouldn’t be happy she’s barely hanging on by a thread, but there’s something about the moment, knowing I’m acting as her raft when I was the one in the first place to throw her in the ocean without a life raft.

I don’t respond, instead allowing her the silence I’m sure she needs to collect herself. It sucks for me, but it’s my cross to bear. I can’t expect her to let her guard down completely when I’m the reason she built that one-hundred-foot wall surrounding her heart.

“I’ll get your car for you, sir.” I asked the valet when I arrived to keep it close and that I wouldn’t be long. He must have taken it to heart even though I spent the better part of an hour or so inside the building and café alone.

“Thank you.” I hand him the slip, along with a fifty-dollar bill as a tip, knowing he’ll make my car appear faster with the exuberant tip.

“No problem, sir.” He leaves, and that’s when Tyra pulls away from me, hand going beneath her eyes to wipe at them in the way a woman does when she’s worried her mascara has smudged.

“Where’d you park your car, siren, valet or garage?” I ask her, not wanting her to worry about being towed if the night goes where I’m hoping it does.

“Parking garage. They won’t tow it, will they?” Even if they did, which I know they won’t, I’d be the one to get it out of the impound lot seeing as I’m the one who would be at fault.

“No, you’ll just have an overnight fee to pay if we stay out past two in the morning,” I tell her. I had to do just that multiple times when we’d go out for the night. After the two of us had one too many drinks, I’d order us a car home and come back the next day while she was still fast asleep in our bed to retrieve it.

“Okay, I can handle that. A tow bill, not so much.” I make a mental note to call a friend and have it taken back to her place tonight. That way, it’s one less thing for her to worry about.

“Take a deep breath, siren. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” I watched her chest moving, normal at first, then it started rising and falling rapidly. “One more time. Just a few more minutes, Tyra, then we’ll be in the car, and you can take all the time you need.” My car pulls up with her next breath. She held it together as long as she could, and I know the second her door closes, it’ll be all she can stand.

“Mr. Ayala, thank you for coming. Have a great night.” The valet opens the passenger door for her. I place a kiss against her temple, knowing she won’t be in my arms when she falls apart.

“Thank you,” I reply. “Come on, siren, let’s get you in the car,” I coo softly while guiding her into the passenger seat. Her hand goes to mine, gripping it tightly, and fuck if I’m not pissed at myself yet again for where this moment is taking place.

“Hey, look at me, Tyra.” I click the seatbelt into place. Her hands immediately cover her face. If I weren’t holding up a line, I’d say fuck it, hug her close to me while she let it out.

“Mace, I can’t, not right now. Can we just leave?” Son of a bitch. Tears stream down her face, and with that request, I can’t wipe them away. Tyra needs away from everything, and the only time she’ll let her guard down is when she’s by herself. Which means I’m fucked until I get her back to my place.

“Leaving now, siren.” I kiss her forehead, back away to close the door, and then I’m hustling around the front of the car to get her to a place where she can let go.

NINE

Tyra

I haven’t criedsince the day of my divorce. Have I gotten angry? Yes. Did I want to kick, scream, and shout? Also yes. But the salty streaks of water cascading down my face haven’t happened since that night after Celeste brought me back home, and even then, I had to beg her to leave. I’ve only cried in front of one person besides my parents, that person being Mace. He’s stoically quiet, hand on the inside of my thigh. In another moment of time, his warm skin against mine would have me floating in euphoria, a time when Mace was mine and he wasn’t the reason for my tears. I place my hand on top of his, hoping with all the hope of a woman who’s so desperately in love that this time, I’m not making a mistake.

“Fuck, siren, you’re breaking my heart.” I don’t respond. The tears keep coming, and in order to wipe them off my face, I’d have to let go of Mace’s hand. He squeezes my thigh. I’m weak, so damn weak for this man. I know I am. Truth be told, it took me months to get up the nerve to acknowledge the problem. It’s why when I was tired of waiting for him to get his shit together, I went to an attorney. I think deep down, Mace knew we had issues to work out, but like most alpha men, he thought money solves every problem under the sun.

Now he knows what it feels like, I say inside my head. There’s no reason for me to voice that. Mace clearly realizes it because before tonight, he was still the same selfish man as before, working day and night, giving up the extra time he could have spent with Von to deal with whatever work crisis there was.

“Going to detour, Tyra. I’ll take you to the office tomorrow. I’m not sure more action is a good idea tonight.” I go to ask him where we’re going when I realize he took the exit from the freeway towards my place. I close my eyes, recline my head, and turn to look from the road in front of us to Mace’s profile. His jaw is clenched, the suit jacket is rumbled from my hands digging into it while trying to bury myself into his firm body, using him as a shelter when what I should have been doing was running the other way.

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