by Lucia Franco
His prickly beard tickles me as he moves closer to where I need him. He peppers kisses along my jaw, causing me to produce little gasps. Just as I reach for his mouth and my body curls alongside his, I feel his resistance.
"James." I whisper his name like it's a plea and open my eyes. The way he's looking at me causes a knot to lodge in my throat and render me speechless. He's about to say something I’m not prepared to hear.
"Marry me, sweetheart."
Eleven
My lips part.
I'm speechless. I don't blink. I don't breathe.
James doesn't just ask me to marry him hoping for a positive answer in return. He asks me like it’s the right thing to do.
All I can do is stare at him in total silence as my heart viciously pounds into my ribs. I'm not all that shocked he'd go there after I told him how I feel about marriage; persistence is James's other middle name. I'm more shocked by how much I want to agree with him.
The truth is, I know it's the right thing… I just can’t do it.
"Marry me, sweetheart," James says again, though he's not as sure this time. There's a deflated tone to his words that kills me. "Say yes."
His arms tighten around me and I find myself leaning into him. I take a deep breath. I want to give him what he wants, but I'm scared. The loss would be too great to endure.
Dating my best friend's dad is one thing. Marrying him is another. I almost lost both Natalie and James as a result of us dating. Granted, it was behind Natalie's back at the time and the furthest thing from a normal relationship by any means. Still, it took Natalie over two years to finally agree to James and I being together. I have a hard time believing she'd accept marriage without issue.
Just like I don't want to risk losing James over a stupid piece of paper, I don't want to lose my best friend either. Being her stepmom is out of the question and just seems so wrong. It would drive a wedge right between us.
James's arms loosen and my heart begins to fall as he pulls away. I glance up and take in the shadows moving through his eyes as his body stiffens defensively against mine.
He's watching me, waiting patiently for a sound response. I don't give him one. I can't even tell him no.
"What's the real reason?" James doesn't bother hiding the pain in his question. "Can you at least give me that?"
Tears fill my eyes and my jaw bobs. I wish he’d never asked me to marry him.
His arms unravel around me completely. The air leaves my lungs in a slow withdrawal as he let’s go. My life, everything I love, suddenly feels gone to me.
James takes a step to the side and puts a small amount of space between us.
"James." I pant, winded as panic sets in.
My stomach drops.
I'm going to be sick.
I'm losing him.
My eyes search his. He's quiet as he moves to the side again, detaching from the concept of us. I can feel it in my bones, in my heart of hearts, and it scares me what might come next. What he could say or ultimately do. That's not what I want for us, or for him to experience.
"James, please."
I reach for him and place my hand on his forearm. He waits, looking at me expectantly. I need him to know… I don't know what I need him to know other than I love him, and that I need him to not hate me, that this doesn't have to be a deal breaker for us.
"You know you're it for me, right? That I love you? That nothing will weaken how I feel?"
There's a slight drop in his shoulders. James doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He stands still like it's both a serious struggle for me to be touching him and for him to be in front of me. I think that's harder for me to handle more than anything. Light begins to fade from his eyes. I wait, listening to the ocean softly lap against our bungalow, and wonder how we got to this point.
"Right?" I say, my chin wobbling. "You know I love you more than life."
Gently, he pulls his arm away so I'm not touching him anymore. His body is partially turned away from me now, and that just makes it worse.
"James?"
I don't know what I'm asking for. I don't think he does either. What I want is for him to see that I love him, that we aren't going anywhere, and that nothing needs to change, but he doesn't. He’s purposely not looking at me, and I can't stomach it. His avoidance could mean so many things.
My heart is breaking by the second. But so is his. I thought we were stronger than this.
Though his eyes are lowered to the ground, James straightens my shirt so my backside is covered. We’re alone out here. No one could see us unless they came onto the deck of our private pavilion. He didn't have to cover me—he chose to.
A tear slips from the corner of my eye. He takes a step away from me like he's ready to leave and I gasp. It feels like there's hundreds of miles between us now and not a few inches. He takes another step and my knees start to buckle.
I can't handle this and need to rectify it.
"Wait," I plead, and James stops. "Don't leave me, please."
Finally, he looks at me, and I almost crumble to the ground.
James is fucking shattered. Worse than me. Absolutely gutted.
My chest feels like it's caving in while being torn apart with two bare hands. I'm struggling to breathe while James looks like he's dying inside.
What did I do to the man who has done nothing but love me for who I am? Who didn't try to change me but let my wings flap with the wind? Who's tried to make me smile every single day by showing me how much one could love another human?
I broke him.
I want to reach for him, but I can't. All I can do is grab the hem of my shirt and tug on it like it's supporting me. I can't ask him for anything, not after I quietly rejected his proposal.
His eyes, though. I see the way he looks at me. They scream devastation.
James subtly shakes his head in disbelief. He takes two steps toward me and I reach for him at the same time, needing to feel his skin on mine, hoping it'll give me a sign that we're going to be okay. He palms the back of my head and threads his fingers through my hair. I lean in and meet him halfway. He presses his lips to the top of my head, then steadies himself.
"Contrary to what you think, I can't leave you. Not even if I wanted to."
A soft whimper escapes my trembling lips, followed by a louder one. My back is vibrating with emotion while my heart rips wide open. I'm shaking in his arms while he feels as steady as a rock. I know he's not steady, though. I know he's breaking inside, just like I am. We’re two peas in a pod.
James cups my jaw and tilts my head up, bringing my eyes to meet his. Steel baby blues shift back and forth between mine. James studies me. His brows deepen together like he’s trying to figure out where he went wrong, how his calculations were off.
He shakes his head again before blowing out a breath of surrender onto my lips. "Not even if I wanted to…" James presses a hard, brutal kiss to my mouth. He breaks it just as fast, leaving me breathless. "I guess I'll just have to deal with it."
Letting go of me, James steps back then turns around and strides into our room.
I guess I'll just have to deal with it.
The wind picks up and whips around my bare legs, veiling me with loneliness. My toes curl into the deck floor and I can feel the pressure of the ocean push up into the wooden planks that hold up our room. Like it's knocking into my chest and filling my lungs.
With a hand to my neck, I fall into the chair I sat in earlier.
I became what he divorced.
He's settling for me even though it makes him unhappy. Settling had been the crux of his previous marriage, and why he'd been so miserable. Why he'd been a member of Sanctuary Cove. The sole reason we met and connected is now the same reason we’re on the verge of a messy breakup, because this isn't just a conversation about what we're eating for dinner. This is our future fused together by two rings and a piece of paper.
Fear is two hands pressing on my throat. I'm terrified I'm going to push him in the direction of another
woman just like his ex-wife did. She didn't satisfy him sexually, and now I don't satisfy him emotionally. Emotionally, sexually, physically connecting to another person, these are the three basic needs a person with a beating heart seeks every day. You can't have one and not the other. It doesn't work like that, because then you'll always be searching for what you don't have in someone else.
With James and me there was no searching. We were satisfied in every area of our relationship. Until tonight.
Glancing to my side, I eye the bottle of cognac we left open and grab it by the neck.
I don't bother with a glass.
Pulling up my leg, I rest my elbow on my knee then bring the bottle to my lips. I take deep pull after deep pull, until my throat burns and I feel like I could blow flames from my nose. I drink until the last bit of amber liquid that was left is gone.
I toss the empty glass bottle onto James's empty chair and pray to God history doesn't repeat itself.
Twelve
It feels like someone's using a feather to draw figure eights on my thigh.
I inhale an exhausted breath. My eyes are dry as I rouse from a heavy sleep. I try to lick my lips, but I can't move yet.
The airy feeling is back again, tickling my inner thigh. I'm still half-asleep trying to piece together where I am. I listen to the sounds around me. There's an exotic bird chirping, water curling into itself, followed by the warmth of sunlight spilling into the room from a window that had been left open.
It all comes crashing back to me.
Squeezing my eyes, I take a deep breath and force myself to wake up. The sheets are cool as I sweep my legs across them trying to remember when I came inside. My mind is totally blank. A black room of nothing. Last I remember, I was sitting by myself outside until I could swear I saw the sunrise just peak above the horizon.
I lick my lips and reach above my head, arching my back, when I feel pressure at my hip. I glance down my body and find James has laid his head on my stomach, and it's him who's drawing circles on my leg. His body is perpendicular to mine. I watch his eyelashes flutter and realize I still don't have panties on and my knee is bent up. I've never shied away from James before. Countless times I’ve woken with his head between my thighs or with him inside of me saying he couldn't wait. The mornings were mine to have him any way I wanted, while the evenings were his. But I suddenly feel like I'm too exposed after the way we left things last night and I shift my legs until they're closed.
This is the first time I didn't wake in his arms.
We didn't make love as the sun came up.
He didn't tell me I'm his forever, and I didn't tell him he's mine.
And I fucking hate it.
Threading my fingers through his salt and pepper hair, I remember when he told me he wanted to let it grow out a little. Now it's slightly longer than most men's, but not long enough for a man bun. I draw the line at sharing hair ties.
"When did I come inside?" I ask, my voice still full of sleep. I want to get up to get a drink of water, but I can barely bring myself to move. I'm too tired and I think I'm a little depressed from last night.
"You didn't. I carried you in," James says. "You fell asleep out there."
"Oh." I frown.
James wraps an arm around my waist and hugs me the same way he does pillows. He turns his head to look at me and lays it back on my stomach. My body tenses, unsure what I'm going to see.
Our eyes meet, and regret and sadness spills from both of us.
"My mind is a little hazy. I don't remember being carried in."
"How's your head? Do you have a hangover?"
I think about it for a second.
Bringing my hand to his jaw, I run the back of my knuckles down his beard and then over the golden curve of his shoulder until my nails are gently scratching his back.
"My head is fine," I say. "The benefit of good alcohol—no hangover."
He doesn't smile. Instead, he laces his fingers with mine and scoots our joined hands to my side. There's a quiet reserve floating around him this morning. I know James well enough to know how he feels, and right now he feels alone and like he's settling again. I know this because I'm just like him. We bleed the same emotions, the same feelings, the same humor, the same sexual desires. We're each other's other half. What one feels, the other does too. And what he’s feeling fucking kills me.
He's waiting. Being patient. Watching me. The morning sunrise casts a gorgeous radiance across his eyes creating the palest blue. They flicker with clarity. With the hope I had a change of heart.
But he knows I didn't. He's too perceptive for that.
"What's the reason, Aubrey?"
I swallow thickly from the sound of pure dejection in James's voice. He sounds like he didn't sleep.
"I already told you."
He levels an unfiltered stare at me. James is not going to stop until he gets the answer I'm keeping from him.
"The real reason, sweetheart. And not the bullshit excuse that you think a fucking piece of paper is going to ruin what we have. I deserve better than that."
The rawness in his words cut deep, but it's warranted. Our connection runs deeper to fathom than coming up with something so frivolous. A reason like mine is a joke to him, and probably to most as well. It would've been a joke to me too, but who knew this is what love would feel like? Once this imaginary love line is crossed, there's no turning back. The further you get, the deeper you're pulled in. We flew past that by our second date as James and Valentina. Even when we weren't together, there was no denying the force being pushed at in our hearts.
"I don't understand why you think two people who are clearly fucking madly in love with each other shouldn't take the final step and get married. It's preposterous to me."
I shake my head and avert my gaze, stopping to stare at the French doors. No matter what I say, it won't make a difference to James. He doesn't understand why we don't need a paper to keep our bond strong. There's nothing stronger than what we already have.
I'm ashamed though, because in a way, in some closed off chamber of my heart, I agree with him, and that's not fair to either of us.
My throat is sore and scratchy as I speak. "Do you really think Natalie would be okay with it?"
I can feel the weight of his stare on me while I gaze mindlessly out the window at the rippling water. The sun is fresh above the water right before its peak. It's enchanting and pulls me away from the torment between us. I can't bring myself to look at James because I'm so torn and upset inside. It's messing with my emotions.
Warmth blooms under my cheek. I'm avoiding him and I sense he gets that. A chuckle echoes along the corners of our intimate room. I frown and finally look down. He's smirking in disbelief and beholding me with stupefied eyes.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"I'm dead serious."
He pops his head up and places his chin in his palm. "You and I live together. When she visits, she sits on the bed we have sex in every day. You think she'd object to us getting married?" We're both quiet. "Tell me my daughter is not the reason you won't marry me."
Humiliation invades me. My reasoning sounds like total bullshit now and messes with my feelings. I'm saddened that in all the days we've been together, this is our first real fight, and it’s over marriage.
"Did you forget how she reacted to us dating and how long it took her to come around? She's going to be ten times worse over marriage. I'm not going to lose my best friend completely when there's no reason if everything is fine the way it is, which it is."
"It's not fine the way it is," James spits out, then rolls out of bed to pace the floor.
My eyes widen as hurt consumes my heart. I lower my voice and say, "Wow. I had no idea you were so miserable."
"What makes you think she'd react the same way, anyway?" he challenges, throwing his arm in the air. A colorful blur of inked hues crosses my gaze. Frustration drips from him when I don't say anything. "You don't know. You're just scared to take the p
lunge because you think you have bad luck and it's the reason all the good things in your life are taken from you. Guess what? You had shitty luck before you met me, and you already took a risk with me. Yeah, it fucking backfired on us because it wasn't under normal circumstances, but look at us now. I'm the one good thing that has made it this far with you, because it was meant to fucking happen." James pauses, his eyes wild. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. We're only going to get better from here on out. I just wish you’d open your eyes so you don't waste time trying to fight it and enjoy what we have."
James is good. His argument guts me. Damn that devil on my shoulder, he was so fucking hot as he did so too.
"I'm serious, James. I can't fucking do that to her. To us. You really don't think she won't care? You're wrong, and I won't do that to her."
James does that sarcastic chuckle again under his breath as he strides toward the bathroom. It grates on my nerves and makes me want to chase after him, but I don't. He made a good case in a matter of seconds and crushed any reason I feared would tear us down with one breath.
James stops and places his hand on the wall before he turns into the room and looks around the corner at me. His brows angle toward each other like he's struggling worse than I am. My face has tears streaming down my heated cheeks. I wish he'd come to me and kiss them away. I wish he'd tell me we’d find a way to make this work. Because right now, this feels hopeless, and even though he said he's not going anywhere, it feels like he’s already gone.
"Hypothetically, say Natalie doesn't have an issue and we could get married tomorrow, would you marry me?"
The silence in the room is deafening. My vision blurs further as the seconds tick by. I watch the hope in James's eyes reduce to grief, and it kills me. Breaking a man does something to me I can't explain. My brain is saying to be smart and follow the evidence so I can break the cycle, but my heart is saying yes. Like why is he even asking me? Of course, I'd say yes.
But I don't say anything at all, and neither does he.
I watch James's fingers tap the corner of the wall. He presses his lips together, his eyes boring into mine, and with a firm nod, he looks away. "Okay," he says, his voice low. "I understand."