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“God, I’m so pathetic…” I sniffled and wiped away the tears. Then my phone vibrated on the nightstand, and the glow lit up my dark bedroom.
I went still. My heart was like a hammer against my ribs. The adrenaline was fierce. No one texted me this late at night.
No one except him.
I reached for the phone and looked at the message.
How are you?I heard his voice in my head as I read it, deep and powerful, with a hint of sincerity.
I read those three words a dozen more times.
I didn’t type back. What was I supposed to say? I cry every day and I’m utterly miserable? Thanks for asking…I chose not to say anything at all. It would just refuel a fire that had finally gone out.
If it helps…I’m pretty fucked up.
Moisture built up in my eyes, slowly forming a thin film over my gaze. I didn’t blink for a long time because when I did, I’d start to cry again…and I’d just stopped. Please leave me alone, Grave. It was hard to send that message, but it was for the best.
He didn’t text me again.
* * *
I returned from the grocery store and carried all the bags into the house. They were full of snacks and drinks for the kids, string cheese and frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Cabinets opened and closed, the refrigerator beeping because I left it wide open. So absorbed in what I was doing, I gave a jump when I heard a knock on the door. “Jesus…” With my hand over my heart, I walked across the living room and into the foyer. I had one of those doors made of frosted glass, so I could see the outline of someone on the other side. It was a man—a big man.
Frozen on the spot, I stared at his outline, the color of his maroon shirt, his impressive height. Then I started to smell pine and body soap…sweat and sex in the sheets. Flashbacks hit me unexpectedly, and I shuffled through all of them as I stood there.
“Gonna let me in?”
I took a breath before I opened the door. It was the first time I’d seen him in a week. Mocha-brown eyes. A hard jawline covered with a shadow. His thick arms stretching the fabric of his shirt. His hands were in his pockets, and he stood out in the cold January day, small clouds of vapor coming from his nose.
Paralyzed, all I could do was stare.
My eyes drank him in. I did the same.
After what felt like an eternity, he moved toward me. “Can we talk inside?” He knew I was alone. Had watched my apartment, made sure the kids were dropped off at school and the nanny was elsewhere.
I nodded then stepped aside.
I shut the door and sealed the cold air outside.
He walked into the living room then pulled his hands from his pockets. His eyes fixed on me, and now that we were in private, his stare was intense. It was the look he used to give me when I walked in the door, just seconds before he ravished me against the closest wall he could find.
I wasn’t wearing makeup and my hair was thrown in a bun, but he looked at me like I was a stripper about to hit the pole. The longer he stared, the more self-conscious I became. My arms locked over my chest, and I averted my gaze. To stare at this powerful man and know he would never be mine…it was so hard. “I hope you have something important to say…to torture me like this.”
“I’m not trying to torture you.”
My eyes returned to his. “I’m doing everything I possibly can to move on. I stay busy so I don’t think of you, and when I do think of you, I force myself to think about something else. I don’t call, I don’t text, because it’s just too hard. So, if you’re here to do anything other than tell me you love me and you want to try…then you’re a fucking asshole.”
He dropped his chin, like those words had enough punch to make him sick.
That was my answer. “This is so fucked up.”
He raised his chin and drew close. “I didn’t like the way we left things—”
“And you think we’re gonna end things better this time?” My voice went from a whisper to an explosion because he’d barged back into my life just to make me miserable. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I said some harsh things—”
“That you meant. It’s fine, Grave. You spoke your truth, and I accept that truth. Now get the fuck out of here—and don’t come back.” I couldn’t believe the audacity, to come back here when he knew how heartbroken I was. “I’m not sorry for breaking our rules. I’m not sorry for telling you I love you. I wish I’d done it sooner and got out quicker.”
