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ChapterEleven
REBECCA
Present Day
I inhale his woodsy scent that hasn’t changed in all our years apart from one another. My hands are still balled up from when I grabbed his shirt. My tears soaked his shirt and took my mascara right along with it.
I take another deep breath and push myself away from him, missing his comfort immediately after I stand on my own. I have to keep my distance. I can’t take this emotional roller coaster that I’ve been on since he knocked on my door after twenty-five years apart.
I’m starting to see that even though I came to terms that Shane left me years ago, I never reacted to Hudson’s cheating in the same manner as I did when Shane moved on without me. Even reuniting with Shane, as brief as it has been, has wreaked havoc on my life in a way no other man has ever done to me. I thought I had grown from the teenager who cried her eyes out for months, actually years, after Shane left.
But I think, deep down, a big portion of my heart has never recovered from how he walked away from us. Just having this brief stroll through memory lane while I stand on this crowded New York City sidewalk makes my blood boil. What did he want from me? How does he expect me to react after he discarded what we were and what we made so easily in the past?
With that thought passing through my mind, I continue walking toward the subway. I can feel him walking behind me, keeping his distance. I think he sensed I was going to blow a gasket if he got any closer to me. After so long apart, I wish I could say I know this man who follows behind me the way he seems to still know me. Although he is mere feet away from me, it felt like a lifetime has been lived away from one another. In many ways, it has.
I’ve had babies, I’ve been married, and I am now divorced. I became a physician, experienced loss with my patients, made memories, and had lasting friendships grow around me. But when I see Shane, I see all the things that did not happen. I did not see him get down on one knee and propose to me. I did not see him grab onto my swollen belly with the life we created together. I did not hear him whisper encouraging words as I pushed our baby out into the world. I did not see him hold hands with our child on their first day of school. No. When I look at him, I see many possible memories, but none that will ever come to fruition. I see a lot ofcould have beenscenarios, but none that solidified as possibilities in the lives we’ve lived so far.
Each thought—each possibility—only fuels me more into this pit of anger and resentment. I hate that my mind carries me to all these potential moments, but that there is nothing that can be done to fix our past is still that unspoken pain that sits between us. I loved him and it wasn’t enough for him.
I get onto the subway, wishing I could shed this hurt that feels like a weight on my chest, and look over toward him. He got on and now stands a few people behind me. But I see his green eyes focused on me. If he could only feel how my heart weeps, even all these years later. If he only understood the hold he’s had on my heart, even though he walked away from me so long ago.
I am lost in thought when I hear my stop announced. I get through the crowd of people and start to speed-walk. The fact I even call it speed-walking just shows how delusional I am because, to everyone else of average height, this is simply walking. I know Shane could outstep me easily, but he continues to respect the distance I am placing with my strides.
I take in the fall trees and calmer streets as it is still early in the morning. Sitting at the coffee shop feels like hours ago, yet we hadn’t sat long before I exploded right in front of him. I hadn’t even taken the time to process the fact that Hudson would give me an earful about my coffee date with Shane. Just knowing I would later have to talk Hudson down from that encounter was something that had the beginnings of a headache touching my temples.
I reach my home and take the steps two at a time. I turn the key to my brownstone and Shane is right behind me, not letting the door close. I step into my home and find Betty sitting there, waiting to greet me. I smile and scratch behind her ear. She leans into me, much like I feel this urge to lean into Shane, even though his presence is causing my insides to scream at me.
I stand up and Shane is right behind me, pressing his front against my back. I can feel him taking a breath of my hair, and I find myself closing my eyes at the gesture.
My body betrays me, and I rest my shoulders and back onto his chest and let his arm wrap around me. I grab onto his forearm and just take a moment to enjoy the feel of him. His comfort is something I always ran toward when we were younger. I loved feeling his strength when I felt like I was too frail.
I open my eyes and turn my head to the side to look up at him. Looking back at me, I see desire swimming in his eyes. I can’t help this tug I feel toward him, and he must notice I can’t fight this feeling off any longer because he uses his free hand to grab my chin and kiss me.
This isn’t just a kiss. It’s an answer to all the wishes I’ve made since he left me on that porch in Nebraska so long ago. With this kiss, I feel a need wash over me, and I turn my body completely, so we face one another. I don’t know what comes over me—maybe I just need to feel him for one last time.
The last time I kissed him, I didn’t know I wouldn’t feel his lips against mine again. Is this closure after twenty-five years, or is this the beginning of something new? Maybe all this time without feeling the touch of another man, I just need him in any way I can get him. He can’t change the past, but he can serve me right now. It’s merely physical; an itch I need to scratch. My inner voice tells me this will hurt when I walk away, but apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.
I take charge and push him against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. My assertiveness surprises Shane, but he doesn’t let this deter him. I look at him with a single thought,I’m not the girl you left behind all those years ago; I know what I want now.
He continues to kiss me, but I continue to hold the reins of this experience. I am no longer a teenager, and I can make my own choices to satisfy my needs. I begin to pull his shirt out from his pants. Next, I unbuckle his belt and start to bring the zipper down.
Shane stops my movements and looks me in the eyes. I simply whisper, “Please, Shane. Let me feel you again. Make me whole again.”
That seems to appease him, and I proceed. But now Shane is pushing me toward the family room, my scrub bottoms being pulled off, and we’re making quick work of our shoes and socks. Soon we’re standing there in our underwear, and we are panting hard, looking at one another to see what our next step will be. It seems the answer comes to both of us at the same time, and we leap at one another, tugging the remainder of our clothes off, as if we will suffer anaphylaxis if these garments stay on our skin any longer.
We are finally naked, and I push him onto the couch and quickly make my way to straddle him. I don’t give my mind much time to react and line him up and begin to sit down on his swollen crown; looking down at this juncture and the realization hits me that I’m finally reunited with a man that completed me when my heart was too young and naive to truly understand how significant that was.
The moment I’m fully seated on his cock, we both let out a moan. I take a brief second to look down at us, physically united in a way I never thought I’d see for the rest of my life, but I’m here, nonetheless. He gives me that cocky smile, and I can’t help but want to erase it from his face. I can’t help but feel this urge to take control, especially after all these years, feeling like he took so much control from me when he walked away from what we had planned for our future. So I begin to ride him, wiping that smile off his face and replacing it with this desire that is etched all over him. I can see he’s holding back because I’m riding him slow, and I know he likes to take control; at least he used to. But I’ve grown, and I want him to realize that I have needs he isn’t familiar with anymore.
As I set a comfortable pace where the movements are hitting all the right spots for me, I feel him move his thumb over my clit. Apparently he still knows how to touch me in the exact way I long for, and I can’t help but let my head fall back, my eyes shut, and my mouth fall open.
A deep moan makes its way out of my throat. He’s touching me deep inside, where few men have succeeded in the past. It feels euphoric and I want to stay here, where consequences be damned, and I can simply ride this wave of passion and ignore the shit we have to work out.
I push my thoughts of what comes next aside and continue at my pace, pumping him in and out rhythmically and beautifully, feeling him bring me close to ecstasy.
Suddenly, his voice raspy, Shane says, “Come for me, Becs. I need to feel you squeeze my cock like you always knew how to do.”
It’s like his words were the only permission I was waiting for, and right then my sight goes dark and I scream his name, while I feel him holding my hips, likely bruising me as he does so. As I’m coming down from my high, Shane sits up, pulling my left nipple into his mouth and I feel that straight to my core. I’m sensitive all over, and I know I will not recover from this anytime soon.
