“Please go. I want to be alone.”
“No,” he says emphatically. “If you don’t want me to hold you, to touch you…that’s fine. But, I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. I’ll wait here until you’re ready.”
My eyes graze the objects around me but I don’t see anything. My body feels like one massive wound, cut open, and bleeding. Pain seeps from every pore. The tears come faster, working their way into sobs. The raw emotion burns through my skin. My throat closes as I can barely swallow all the sorrow, all the pain. I sob uncontrollably, holding myself in a tiny ball, rocking. My face on my knees, the tears flowing as they always do when I let go and allow myself to feel…again.
Chapter 12
I stay at the kitchen table crying like I did that first night. The night she died. He sits in the chair, waiting. Letting me get it all out. The anger, the guilt, the pain. My body feels numb. I’m exhausted. The sun is peeping through the curtains. I hate him for making me relive it, all for some stupid fucking game. I’m tired of holding the pain in my heart. The guilt is crushing my soul. I’m so tired. As if he can hear me, he stands, scooping me into his arms and carries me to bed. I barely feel him. I barely feel anything. Setting me down in the bed, he covers us with the comforter and cradles me in his arms.
Chapter 13
Gentle kisses alight upon my skin. Sunshine warms my limbs, chasing away my dreams. I smell coffee. I pry my eyes open, and he’s still here. His soft beard nuzzles my neck as he waves a café mocha in front of my nose. This must be heaven.
Reality crashes back in. “Why are you still here, Tommy?” My eyes narrow as my gaze settles on his indulgent face.
He sighs, as if he must patiently explain something to a small child. “I told you I’m not leaving. Drink your coffee.”
I take the coffee mug, sipping at it as I murmur, “Sweet nectar of the Gods” as I start to come to life, rolling my eyes to the heavens. The bite of the brew explodes in my mouth, making me forever grateful for my dark roast. He’s opposite me, sitting in one of our chairs from the kitchenette, sipping from a mug. Glancing at him over my mug, I’m still angry, but not as much as I was last night. I consider talking to him, but my inner brat has taken over so I merely sit and sip my coffee in cold silence.
He, on the other hand, is Mr. Chatty Kathy. “I thought we could ride out to Mt. Bonnell and head over to The County Line for some barbeque. I think you’ll like Mt. Bonnell. It’s got a great view of Lake Austin. You like barbeque, don’t you? You’ve probably never had real barbeque. This is Texas barbeque. Nothing like it.”
I stare at this infuriating man, babbling on as if everything is fine, planning our day. His eyes sparkle and he strikes me as incredibly kind. But, my inner brat is still in control so I merely sneer at him and sip again. He notices my staring.
“I believe I owe you a reward, darlin’.” Setting his mug down, he reaches for mine and I yank it away.
“Don’t ever touch my coffee,” I say. My eyes narrow as I think about last night. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk some more?” I look him up and down narrowing my eyes. “I bet I can put you in the hot seat. Everybody has parts of them they keep hidden. Let’s see how you like it,” I snarl.
“Ok, but same rules,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Ask away.”
I consider the most uncomfortable subjects I can think of and settle on one. “Have you ever been cheated on by someone?”
“Yes.” He answers me with a look of full disclosure as if he is giving me an answer as to whether it’s raining.
“Whole story, please,” I grunt out, taking another sip of my coffee. How do you like it? Sharing your stories, wallowing in the hurt and fear, feeling it fresh like it happened yesterday.
His eyes drop and his voice quiets. So quiet, I have to strain to hear him. “I was engaged to a girl in college. We - ”
“-You were engaged?” My eyes pop open.
“Yup. We were planning the wedding. The whole nine yards, had