by C. Lymari
“It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t want to be loved. You can’t say it was all bad, Freya. At first, it was wonderful. The more time passed, the more withdrawn you got. You never talked about your family, about your home. You were there with me, but you weren’t.”
“So, you had sex with someone else? It’s not like I wasn’t giving it to you,” I replied harshly.
“It wasn’t even about the sex. It was about the connection; you didn’t give me that. Tell me how many times I came home stressed out of my mind and you bothered to ask me why?”
He was right, I never gave him a piece of me, a part of my soul. How could I when I never got it back?
“That’s not the point, Ash. You slept not only with one woman, but many. I could never forgive that.” The waiter brought our food, causing both of us to be quiet. I knew I would not be sticking around for much longer.
“Come back, gorgeous. We can start over. I know we both had our faults, but we can still salvage what we had. You were good for me. Everyone loved you.”
That automatically had alarm bells going off in my head. Motherfucker. It had never been about me; it was still about him. I threw the napkin down, ready to bolt.
“Un-fucking-believable, it’s all about the investors, isn’t it?”
“I want you back, Freya, and I believe we can start over again.”
“Answer me?” I demanded.
“When you didn’t show last time, they asked questions. You didn’t exactly make it a secret why you left. You and I were part of an image, gorgeous. When you left, it didn't look good for the company.”
“But me having to get tested for STDs, that looks good for the company?” I grabbed my purse and got up, ready to leave, but Ashton took out a white envelope from his jacket.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this.” He sounded remorseful. He laid two pictures of me on the table. I didn’t need to see more. I remember that day perfectly. After I found Ashton cheating, I left, but not before I took a crowbar to both of his cars.
So fucking stupid.
I blame Beyoncé and Carrie Underwood for glamorizing car vandalism.
“You come to the dinner, pretend we’re still together, and I don’t go to the cops.”
I was debating how much trouble would I get in with the cops. I had no money, even though Max and Abigail had yet to cash the check I gave them, but I couldn’t count on it. I’d rather owe Ash than Max, so that made things easy.
“Fine, only for the gala. After that, you can tell them I cheated on you for all I care, and I’m staying at the Ritz. On you.”
“Done.” He gave me a triumphant smile.
On the bright side, I killed two birds with one stone this way. I got to deal with Ashton, and I was going back to San Francisco.
“Oh, and, Ashton, after this, forget you ever fucking knew me.” I got up, not wanting to spend another minute with him. I had had enough. Before Ashton could reply, I heard Abigail’s voice.
“Trouble in paradise? I couldn’t help and notice you two seemed a little tense. Wanted to make sure you were okay, Freya?”
My shoulder burned from where Abigail was touching me. Someone tell this bitch to remove her hand before I slap her. Max wasn’t far off; he was right behind his fiancée. When I cast my eyes his way, he was glaring at Ashton. What the fuck was he mad for?
“Everything is perfect now, isn’t, gorgeous?” Ashton used the opportunity to wrap his hand around my waist. I fought the urge to deck him in the face.
“Yes,” I gritted. I didn’t want Ash to tell Max or Abigail why he was here. It would humiliate me if they knew the truth. So, I let Ashton hold me. Picture fucking perfect couple.
Sticks and stones, right?
“Hello, I’m Abigail, and this is my fiancé, Maximilian.” She extended her hand to shake Ashton’s. I tried not to gag when he kissed her hand. Wasn’t that what he did with me, and I found it swoon-worthy?
“Abigail, Max, can I call you, Max?” Ashton’s hold on me became tighter as he shook Max’s hand.
“So, what is it you do?” Abbi asked as she leaned into Max. My heart felt a little stab of pain when he put a hand across her waist. When I looked up, he was staring at me.
What happened to us? I looked at him and wondered.
You left, I could have sworn he answered.
“I’m CEO of Hill’s Real Estate.” Abigail’s eyebrows rose with interest. It wasn’t shocking, I had the same reaction. Ashton’s family’s business was everywhere.
Then she turned and said, “Freya Pratt, you always knew how to go big.”
“Can we go now?” I turned to Ashton, knowing full well how rude I sounded, but it was either we left or I exploded. I was a ticking time bomb.
“Stay, please join us for a drink. I’d love to hear all about how you two met. Don’t take this the wrong way, but none of us thought Freya would amount to anything. Isn’t that right, honey?” Abigail sneered, her smile sweet like poison. Resting my head on Ashton’s shoulders, I smiled back at her. Bitch.
“I’ll be right back,” I told them. I went toward the restrooms; the emergency exit was right next to them.
“You weren’t going to bother with a quick hello, my beautiful girl?” Frank stepped out of the kitchen, bringing a smile to my face. He was just like I remembered him, a little rounded, kind eyes, and dimples.
“Hey, Frank.” I hugged him. “Mind if I slip out?”
“You know I’ll always have your back, girl, but I gotta say, what you did to that boy, that wasn’t cool.” I looked down because I couldn’t meet his eyes.
I made mistakes, and I was living with them.
When I opened the door, I cursed the light rain that was already drizzling. If my options were getting wet and increasing my chances of getting pneumonia or going back and having a drink with Ashton and Abigail, then pneumonia sounded fine to me.
My white dress was wet and clinging to my body, my hair was soaked, but somehow in the rain, I felt better than I ever had. It was like it was washing away everything I was, everything I’d been. My dream had ended, and it was time to accept that sometimes we all didn’t get new dreams, and that was okay. Sometimes, things just ended, and you made peace with them. Sometimes starting anew wasn’t in the cards for you, and that was okay too. Because for a brief second, I tasted it, the dream, it was big, and no one could take that away from me.
So, Abigail had him, but for a moment, so did I, and all those memories we made together she could never have. Even if it was painful to think about, for a moment in time, everything was perfect, and it had been mine.
Only mine.
30
Max
Throughout dinner, I couldn’t hold a conversation with Abigail. Was she talking about the flowers she initially wanted were out of season? Was Gary bringing a plus one? The wedding was three weeks away, and I should focus on details like Abbi was, but for the life of me, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Freya. I knew it was her the moment she walked in because Abigail tensed up and her lips pursed, the food on her plate remained untouched. It was torture stealing glances at Freya while talking about my wedding.
When Abigail suggested we introduce ourselves to Freya and her guest, I jumped at the chance to get close to her. I knew I wasn’t coming to taunt her. I wanted to see who she was with, who was this guy to her.
It was a lie, Max.
Those five words were haunting me. A desperate part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and believe it, but I couldn’t.
When the man at her side introduced himself and said he was Ashton, as in the ex-boyfriend who was making her life miserable, I got insanely jealous. I wanted to punch him. When she walked away to go to the bathroom, I knew she had no intention of coming back. I quickly sent a text to Sandy, telling her to call me immediately. I rushed out of the restaurant, not thinking straight. Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck if Abigail bought the lie.
The rain was picking up speed. When I r
ounded the corner through the alley, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw her. Even through the rain, I could tell it was her. Her hair was soaking wet, her white dress clung to her body, and I could see everything.
When she looked up and the rain hit her, I felt a blow to my gut. Freya had always been beautiful, but I couldn’t find the words to describe her now.
She was like fire; she burned bright and wild. When she left, she scorched you, leaving an everlasting ember that wouldn’t stop burning.
A part of me needed her right now. I needed to have her close. I didn’t think. I just walked up to her and dragged her with me into the darkness of the alley.
“M-max, w-what are you doing?”
I could see the confusion in her big, brown eyes. When I walked outside, I did it intending to get things off my chest. When her lips parted, the words left me. I couldn’t think of anything except her and the way her lips looked moist with water droplets. I meant to tell her how wrong she was, that I didn’t let her go. I had yet to find a way to do it. What she said yesterday, that was a game changer. Those words made the pit of my stomach sink. Made my heart beat again with the pain, and I let myself feel—not just what her words implicated but what the years without her felt like. It was an empty ache that wouldn’t go away no matter how many women I fucked or how many bottles I drank because the space she occupied, no one could replace.
I tried.
Fuck did I try so hard to replace her.
I almost kissed her yesterday. She was so close, and I could taste the desire on her breath.
When I opened my mouth to tell her all this, no words came out; instead, all I saw was her against the wall, her body wet and so close to mine. She looked up at me, and those damn brown eyes were my undoing. There wasn’t anything gentle in the way I gripped her chin so I could kiss her.
The rain ceased to exist the moment I tasted her again. Her taste, fuck, how did I ever forget she tasted so sweet? Freya was shocked, and I used it to my advantage to take my fill of her. Everything about her was the same yet different.
A part of me knew this was her—my girl.
I felt complete, yet I knew this wasn’t the same girl I had once loved. It felt like an eternity for her to kiss me back. Everything stopped when her lips moved against mine. My mind swirled with emotions.
Hunger.
Need.
Desperation.
Her hands clasped around my neck. My body was on autopilot as I picked her up, using the wall as leverage so I could feel her against me. Freya’s hands raked my hair before her nails pressed against my neck. The pain made me growl with the need to take what used to be mine. This was nothing like our first kiss—sweet and full of promises. Oh no, this was the opposite.
Raw.
Hateful.
Agonizing.
Still, it was fucking amazing. She tasted like fire, scorching my body and making me want more until I burned out. My dick throbbed with need, especially since I could feel her every curve plastered against me. My body didn’t care about her abandoning us. It wanted more. It wanted everything.
“Wrap those pretty legs around my waist,” I demanded, and she complied. Not breaking contact from her lips, my hands roamed her body, getting reacquainted with her curves and dips once again.
It’s like I had forgotten what my hands could do.
What they could feel.
I wanted more.
I needed more because I knew how quickly it could get taken away. When my mouth kissed that spot behind her ear that drove her wild, she moaned my name.
Hearing my name on her lips woke a part of me that had been dead. I nipped and licked at her skin, drinking the rain from her body.
I didn’t realize how much I was starving for her until her taste was on my tongue.
“I need you, Freya.” I heard the desperation in my voice, but I knew I wasn’t alone. Her hands were at my waist, making fast work of my belt and pants. Freya’s hands trembled with maybe fear or perhaps excitement. Fuck, if I was going to let her back out now. When she looked up at me, I could see it, she wanted me as I wanted her.
“Tell me what you want, Freya.”
Her lips parted, but the words I wanted to hear didn’t come out.
“Tell me,” I growled, pressing her harder against the wall, my fingers digging into her hips.
“You. I want you, Max,” she said through gritted teeth.
The world could explode around us at this moment, and I wouldn’t hear a thing. My hand made its way up her soft skin, to the warm apex of her thighs until I reached the thin material of cloth. It was soaking wet, and it had nothing to do with the rain.
I wished I had more time, more control, to insert my fingers in her and explore. Bunching the material, I gave it a tug, making Freya’s hips buck with the force.
“Max… please… I want you.” Freya kept grinding against my thigh, trying to get the release only I could give her.
“Then take me.” That was all the warning I gave her before I entered her in one hard thrust. Pure fucking bliss the moment my dick entered her pussy.
Hot.
Tight.
Mine.
I fucked her so hard I knew her back must burn, but I didn’t care. Neither did she.
“Please, Max,” Freya moaned in my ear, and those words were painful. How many nights did I hear her moans over and over in my head? How many times did I jerk off to her memory in my shower?
I laughed. “Oh, baby, you take what I give you.”
Her legs tried pulling me tighter against her, making her heels dig into my ass. I smiled into her neck when she grunted in frustration.
“Max, I need more.” The desperation in her voice stopped me from taunting her. I slammed into her with more force than necessary. Freya’s head hit the concrete wall as she cried out my name.
“Give it to me, Freya.” I looked into her eyes as her face filled with pleasure when I hit her G-spot.
“Keep your eyes open,” I ordered. And she did, not once breaking eye contact with me. When I let myself go, I hugged her tighter because I knew this moment was a gift.
“Fuck.” My cock pulsated against her pussy walls, marking her, and I never felt more at home in my whole life. All those years of hell without her were worth it to feel heaven wrapped in her wet silkiness.
I put her down gently, loving the way her body slid off mine. The rain making us stick to each other. How many times did I search for this feeling with all those women and none of them compared? Freya’s hands were fisting my shirt like she didn’t want to let go.
“Baby, are you okay?” I bent my head, so I could look into her eyes. The fire I had seen earlier was no longer there; her gaze was blank. That’s when I noticed she was shaking. “Freya, talk to me?” I demanded, scared out of my mind. Fuck, did I hurt her? Did she hit her head harder than I thought?
“Please step back.” She pushed me, but I wasn’t moving. “What did we do, Max?” Even through the rain, I could see she was crying. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“Freya, calm down, baby.”
“Move the fuck out of my way, Max!” she yelled, and I did as she wished.
As soon as I stepped away from her, I felt cold. She started to walk away, and I stayed put, even though every cell in my body was yelling for me to go after her.
“So that’s it, you’re just going to leave again?” I took a step toward her but stopped as she backed away from me like I scared her. Flinching, I took a step back. For one second, everything was perfect but the next it was all falling apart again.
“This was a mistake…” She sobbed into her hand. “Stay away from me.” She ran away, tears still in her eyes.
I couldn’t move.
Freya delivered a killing shot, and she didn’t even know it. I stood in the rain letting the water wash away the mistake that was just made. I was a weak man when it came to Freya Pratt. She was the only person who could make me lose control.
Freya had
destroyed me once, and I was dumb enough to almost let it happen again. She was my weakness, and I was… nothing. I half expected to turn and see the wall covered in flames, a sign of what Freya and I had shared, or perhaps a sign that said I just had the best sex of my life, but the wall showed no evidence.
I was about to leave when something caught my eye. I saw the thin scrap of lace on the ground, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I picked it up. Walking out of the alley soaking wet, only then did the impact of what had just happened hit me.
My wedding was three weeks away, and I had slept with someone else.
Worst of all, I didn’t regret it.
I’d do it all over again if I could.
31
Freya
Eighteen years old
My hand was shaking as I grabbed a pen and tore a piece of paper from one of my notebooks. It was time—time for me to rip my heart out, then try to stop the bleeding so I could get on with my life. A life without my boy. A life without Maximilian Dunnett.
Dear Max,
God, that sounded pathetic. A tear fell down my face, ruining the nearly blank page. The paper had tear droplets all over. I threw it away and started another.
The last few years with you were amazing. You are everything a girl could ask for, but I think we have been lying to ourselves. There’s so much difference between the both of us. We were good together but not great. I’m tired of feeling inferior every time we go out. I’m tired of wondering if things will eventually get better. We come from very different families, and we want different things from our lives. You have plans, you know who you are, and I can’t be the girl who tries to fit into all that.
God, this was killing me. If I had it my way, I would say how he was my hero. Max came into my life when I needed someone new to believe in me. He made the empty ache in my heart full again. When your heart was full of love, there was no need for sticks and stones. I knew nothing would touch me because Max wouldn’t let it. He was my shield, but shields didn’t last forever. More tears fell as I wrote, and I had to lean back and wipe them off before they marred the words on the page.