"What else is going on?"
"Nothing. And by nothing, I really mean nothing. It's like we walk around pretending everything is peachy, that we are happy, and things are back to the way they were."
"Still no sex?"
I stand and walk to the window. "Nope."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
"Not really. He pre-empts me every time. 'I have an early meeting,' or 'I didn't want to wake you, so I slept in the study.' He plays it off like everything is fine. He assures me he loves me, but avoids having sex with me at every turn." I shuffle back to the sofa and slump into the cushions. "I don't know what to do. Something is definitely off, and until he wants to admit it, I don't see how we can move forward, or get past it."
Ryan slides next to me and takes my hand in his. "You need to talk to him. You have to make it clear that you have questions and he needs to answer them. You know him, darlin', it's never easy for him to open up. You have to make sure he knows he's safe, that whatever he says, you will accept."
That's what scares me the most—that I will have to accept whatever he tells me. Even if it means I have to tell him goodbye. I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears stream down my face. My chest aches from the sob I hold in. "What if he tells me he doesn't love me. What if he's only with me out of some sense of loyalty he thinks he owes me?"
"Oh, darlin', come here." Ryan gathers me against his chest, his arms tight around me, and kisses the top of my head. "Alex loves you. I saw it months ago. Before you believed it. Before he realized it. But it was as obvious as if it had been written on a billboard."
"That was a long time ago—before John shot me. Back when Alex thought I was strong. Now, he sees how weak I really am."
"What are you talking about?" He lifts my head and brushes the hair from my face. "You are one of the strongest people I know, Kylie."
"I don't feel strong, Ryan. I feel like I can't handle anything. I fall apart so easily these days. I'm afraid to fall asleep because I can't bear John shooting Alex in my nightmares. I need Alex to sleep with me, and hold me, and tell me everything will be okay, but I don't know how to ask him." I bury my face in his chest, cries nearly choking me.
"Leaning on people when you need them doesn't make you weak, Kylie. It makes you human. Do you think Alex is always strong?"
My head bobs up and down against his chest. "We expected that you would come out of the coma within a couple of days after your surgery. That didn't happen, as you know, and days turned into weeks. Well, you know Alex. He didn't accept the doctors telling him that we would just have to wait and see. He wanted answers, demanded they fly in the best neurosurgeons to consult on your case. They said everything looked fine, and we had to wait it out.
"Alex stormed out of the room—we followed him all the way to the parking garage. He was yelling at the top of his lungs and beating the hell out of a cement wall. By the time Paul got to him and pulled him away, his knuckles were torn up and bleeding. He dropped to his knees, and cried. Kept telling Paul that he couldn't live without you, that you were the reason he was able to face his past. You brought the love he had hidden in the darkness back into the light.
"Whatever he is going through, Kylie, I think it's safe to assume it's because he's still scared."
"Of what? I'm here. I came back to him."
"That's a great question—and an excellent place to start the conversation."
He's right. Ryan is always right. If I was going to have any chance of having a relationship with Alex that consisted of more than just being roommates, I was going to have to make him open up about his fears. But Ryan was right. That is the one area Alex keeps closely guarded, even from me.
I wiped the tears from my face and embraced Ryan. "I'm wiped out. I think I'll head back to Alex's place and take a nap."
"You sure? You can take a nap here, you know."
"Nah, I want some time alone. I need to think some things through before Alex gets back."
Ryan rode the elevator down to the first floor and hailed me a cab, giving the driver Alex's address and slipping him a fifty dollar bill. He kisses me on the cheek, his hand caressing my face. "Let me know when you get back to the apartment."
"Okay. Will you let Alex know I left, but tell him in a way that won't worry him?"
The ride back to Alex's is short, and the driver made off with a very nice tip. The doorman escorted me through the lobby, summoned an elevator, and keyed in the code to the penthouse. So much had happened today. I catch a glimpse of the bathtub on my way into the bedroom. Oh, how lovely would that be? I nice, hot bubble bath. I texted Ryan that I had made it back, laid my head on the pillow, and stared at the ceiling. What will it take to get Alex to be straight with me about our lack of sexual contact?
And how was I going to tell him that I will never have a child?
Chapter Four
Talking to Ryan wore me out, and I'm not sure if it's from the length of the conversation, the topics, or the stress they induce. Whatever it is, fatigue has a firm grip on me, and I drift off to sleep not long after my head hits the pillow. My dream is bright and vivid, a stark contrast from the gray and gloomy nightmares of late. I'm in a field of tulips, the sun providing a golden glow across my skin, my hair flowing in the breeze. I gaze out over the fields, enormous bulbs in bright reds, yellows and pinks. A hand is rubbing my belly, and my attention is drawn to the man who sits before me, his hand gently caressing the large roundness that protrudes out so far that my feet are hidden from my view. Alex gazes up at me, his eyes full of love and hope, and the widest grin across his face that I have ever seen.
His lips are moving, but I can't hear what he's saying. It's not until the breeze circles around my head that I can hear his whispers. You are giving me the most precious gift I could ever wish for. A child. Our child. Now our love is complete.
The bed shifts, and I can feel someone beside me. My hand goes to my stomach, smooth, flat, no trace of any baby bump, and I'm not sure if it's relief I'm feeling or regret. What if Alex wants a family, and I can't give him one. Not only that, but I have no desire to be a mom. I know I should feel some sort of guilt over that—I know many women I've met certainly like to make me feel as if there is something evil about me for not wanting to raise a child—but I'm happy with my life. I don't find it selfish not wanting to have children, just the opposite. What's selfish is bringing a child into your life that you cannot commit to one hundred and fifty percent.
Alex's hand is on my hip, I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes, and I roll onto my back so I can see his face.
"Hey, baby, I didn't mean to wake you." He leans over and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.
"You didn't. I was starting to wake up, anyway, just hadn't fully gotten there."
He runs his fingers through my hair, his eyes looking deep into my soul, as if searching for an answer to a question he hasn't yet uttered.
"I feel like I stumbled onto something I wasn't supposed to today." I narrow my eyes, my mind trying to discern what he means. "When I mentioned I thought Ryan was asking you to be a surrogate," he says.
"Oh." Fuck, we do need to have this discussion, but on the heels of my dream, I'm feeling more than a bit trepidatious about it. I pull myself up to sit, and lean my back against the headboard. "I should have talked to you about this from the very beginning—when I knew we were getting serious—but so much was happening and it honestly slipped my mind. I need you to know upfront that I never meant to keep this from you."
Alex sits next to me, his eyebrows tightly knit together, and his jaw tightening. "Jesus, Kylie, you're making me nervous. What the hell is it?"
I take a deep breath that does absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. I'm petrified this will devastate him. We've never talked about having kids, so I have no idea what his thoughts are on the subject. I take his hand in mine, running my thumb over the back of it.
"I can't have kids." Internally, I cringe, and wait for his response. His expression is blan
k, and his eyes aren't giving anything away, either.
He takes a breath in through his nose. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I lack any of the necessary equipment to make a baby."
"And by that, you mean, you—what? Had a tubal ligation?"
Oh, if only it had been that easy, but nothing has ever been easy for me, and my reproductive organs have been no less complicated.
"Full hysterectomy."
"But you take birth control."
What? I shake my head. "Um, no, I don't."
"Well, what's the pill you take everyday?"
"Hormone replacement—to prevent me from going through menopause."
He continues to stare at me, emotionless, not giving anything away and it's about to kill me. I need to know what he's thinking—what he's feeling. I need to know if I have just put the final nail in the coffin of this relationship.
"So, maybe you should start from the beginning and explain?"
God, where is the beginning of this story? Certainly not when I had the procedure done. It goes farther back than that. Way back. A flood of emotions rushes through me as I recall my youth. It's not the most pleasant of memories, and ones I don't often revisit, if I can help it.
"Okay, well, you know I grew up poor. It was just my father and I, after my mother took off. My dad didn't handle the break-up well, and his life pretty much spiraled out of control, and he took me on the ride with him. Long story short, he was a drunk who couldn't keep a job. No job—no health insurance and no doctor's visits. I was embarrassed to talk about it with the scant number of friends I had, so I never knew there was Planned Parenthood, that could give me exams for free."
I glance at Alex, his features have softened a bit, and he's stroking my hand. Such simple touches from him, but they always give me an enormous amount of strength.
"From the start, my period was not what doctors would consider normal. It was wildly sporadic—sometimes once a month, sometimes twice, often spotting in between. I guess I knew something was not working like it should, but I also didn't know what I could do about it. Fast forward to college, I started having pain, but pretended it would go away. It didn't, and by the time Ryan and Paul figured out something was wrong, they were driving me to the emergency room. The doctor's discovered I had severe endometriosis, and since I was not anywhere close to menopause, they did a full house cleaning."
"Jesus, Kylie." He runs his hand over his face, staring at something or nothing on the wall opposite us. "So, that would definitely make it impossible to be a surrogate." He turns towards me, and his eyes are a mix of wary hopefulness. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you can't have kids."
This is exactly what I fear. He wants kids, even if I can't actually carry them. "Do you mean have someone be a surrogate for me? Or adoption?"
"Both options available to you…" He answers.
I shake my head, sigh heavily, and squeeze his hand. "Alex, I've had a long time to think about this, and I don't want kids. I'm happy in my career. With our lives—now and in the future. I love dreaming about where life will take us, and all the things I want to experience with you, and I can tell you unequivocally that I do not want to raise a family."
I lift his hand and kiss his knuckles, knowing this next part could end everything between us, and destroy all my hopes for a future with him. "If that's something you want—a baby, a family—then we need to re-evaluate our relationship, and where this is going. I won't change my mind, Alex, no matter how romantic the notion of sharing a bond with you through a child might be, it's not enough to make me want that life."
I inhale slowly and hold it, watching him, waiting for his reaction. My heart pounds, my hands tremble, and a thin layer of sweat breaks out over my skin.
Finally, he looks at me, and a smile lifts the corners of his mouth. "Baby, I don't want kids, either. If I did, I'd have them by now. My life is my company and my charities—at least, until you came into it. If there is any woman I'd want to have a child with, it's you, but I am perfectly happy just having you. Building our future, and sharing dreams. I can't imagine my life being any more complete than it is now, with you. I don't want or need more."
I nearly burst into tears, at least this won't come between us, but this is not the only thing standing in our way. I might as well address the elephant in the room, and make him tell me why he hasn't touched me in any meaningful, intimate way since before the shooting.
The little bit of relief I felt has evaporated, and tension wracks my body once more. I need to know what's going on—but that doesn't mean I necessarily want to know.
"Alex, I need you to be straight with me about something."
"What?"
"I need you to tell me what's going on with us. I need for you to be honest…and tell me why you don't want to make love to me."
Alex drops his head back, closes his eyes, and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Kylie, it's not that I don't want to make love to you—I do. You have no idea how much…"
Well, that's true…
"Are you scared for some reason?" I ask.
He opens his eyes and gazes at me. They're so blue and beautiful, but the dark circles detract from them, and the corners dip down. "Many reasons."
A chill runs through me. "Why?" I hate that my voice is shaky. My fingers toy with the double heart pendant Alex gave me that hangs around my neck.
He closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath, and slowly releases it.
"Please talk to me, Alex. Whatever it is, no matter how hard it might be for me to hear, I need to know what's wrong." I wrap my hands around his. "Are you afraid of losing me?"
"Yes."
"I'm fine, Alex. The doctors say I've made a full recovery, and there's a low risk of me developing any complications from being shot, or hitting my head."
"Well, I admit, that did worry me at first."
"And now?"
He drops his head, his thumb making a circle on the back of my hand, and he's quiet for a moment. "You don't need me anymore—don't need me to protect you. The reason you fell in love with me is gone now that John can't hurt you anymore…"
"You think I fell in love with you because you protected me from John?"
He nods.
"Alex, I love that you protected me, but that's not the reason I fell in love with you, and certainly not why I'm still so in love with you."
"But will you ever be able to truly forgive me for failing you?"
"What are you talking about?" My mind races to find answers.
"John shot you—almost killed you—while I watched it all unfold. I swore to protect you and I failed."
"God, I hate this—even from the grave— he can still come between us. But, baby, you did not fail me. I wish I could make you understand all the ways you have saved me. I know you're scared, but if you give up on this part of us because you're afraid you'll lose me somehow, then you've already lost me. I'm doing a really horrid job of explaining this—it's just that—anything can happen, at any time, or nothing could happen. We could have thirty years together or thirty minutes."
"I watched you die…" he whispers, and my heart breaks.
"I came back to you, Alex."
His hand caresses my cheek, his eyes reach into my soul, his lips press against mine. He gently sucks my lower lip, releases it, and murmurs against them, "Can anything this good really last forever?" His hand cups the back of my head, and he pulls me into him, our lips crashing together.
I rest my hands on his thighs, not sure what I should do, how far he will let me go before he shuts this down like he has every time we get to this point. He's going to have to take the lead on this, I'm not sure I can handle the rejection again.
He pulls his head back, his eyes dark and lusty, but his eyebrows gather together. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I blurt out a little too quickly. He sighs and drops his head. "It's just…it's hard for me to start down this path—think we're going to make love, and…" My voice cracks,
and trails off.
"And I never let it go there." His hand is still at the back of my head, and he tilts it back so he can see directly into my eyes. "I'm not perfect. I make so many mistakes, but I'm trying to learn, also. I have come up with so many reasons lately to keep you at arm's length, to deny that part of me that is so desperate for you, because I thought it would somehow hurt both of us. It's flawed thinking, I realize that, especially after hearing it out loud, but it's what I've been clinging onto. What I lost sight of is, even with all the reasons I've come up with, the one reason I'm ignoring—is you. You're the reason I changed who I was in the first place. The only reason that should matter to me is you…and it is."
My chest rises and falls more quickly, and my head is swimming in a sea of lust and need and want. I grab at the button of his jeans, fumbling with it until I finally work it free. I slip out of my jeans and top, and slide onto the bed. Tossing his jeans to the floor, Alex crawls on top of me, suspending himself above me, his eyes roam over my body. His tongue licks along his bottom lip, the blue of his eyes darkening.
The muscles in his arms flex, and he slowly lowers his naked body on top of mine. He drags his lips along my neck and shoulder. A low, luscious moan escapes from somewhere deep within me, and I raise my chest to meet his, pushing my breasts against his taut chest muscles. I run my hands over his back, feeling every curve, every dip, and every muscle of his tempting body.
Alex crushes his lips against mine, plunges his tongue into my mouth, my tongue swirls and slides against his.
I inhale, ragged and loud. The thrill throughout my body is almost more than I could handle—I'm on sensory overload—and I'm desperate to have all of him. It's been so long since we've been this close—this intimate.
His knee slides between my legs, and I open for him, my body hums with desire. "Alex, I want you—I need you—inside me."
The tip of his erection slides along the wet folds of my pussy, teasing me, "Please, Alex," I beg.
His lips hover above mine, "Patience," he whispers.
Revenge: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Two Page 4