by Alice Ward
The finality in her words rang in the empty space she left behind.
CHAPTER SIX
Candace
I stared at the coffee pot, waiting for the light to signal that the brew was ready to go off. When it did, I leaped from the stool and filled my coffee mug all the way to the brim, then settled at the counter again.
“Ten more minutes,” I told Jonah.
“Uh huh,” he absentmindedly said from his spot on the living room carpet. Immersed in his Saturday morning ritual of building Legos while watching cartoons, it was a wonder he’d even heard me.
“Really, Jonah,” I said. “Ten minutes, then you need to go and get ready for karate.”
His head whipped around. “Can we go get frozen yogurt after? Justin said his mom is taking him.”
“Maybe,” I answered, blowing on my coffee. “We’ll see.”
I picked up the morning’s newspaper and tried to go through it as I sipped my coffee, but only ended up reading the front headline over and over.
It was no use.
I’d barely slept the night before. After getting back from Niall’s and letting the babysitter go, I spent about an hour just sitting in the bathtub staring at the wall. When I finally got to bed, it was impossible to relax. Everything Niall had done and everything he said went around and around in my head, a twister of words and touches.
I tried. I really had. I hadn’t known just what I was doing going back to his house. At that point, I was being solely driven by carnal desire. After the romping and rolling was done with, though, I was hit by an intense desire to stay by Niall’s side. My attempts at talking with him about therapy were a leap. I knew he probably wouldn’t be receptive, but I had to make an effort. If I didn’t, I would regret it… always.
And now it looked like my attempts were in vain. I’d grown and healed because I wanted to. Maybe there really were emotionally scarred people who didn’t want to get better, and Niall was one of them.
I’d spent more than enough time getting worked up into a tizzy over him. I had my own life to worry about. A child to raise on my own. A business to run.
My eyes fell on the framed photo on the wall. Taken when Jonah was three months old, it was a picture of him and his parents on a park bench. Leigh held him in the crook of her arm, smiling up at the camera lens like she was the happiest woman in the world.
With a husband like Mike and a beautiful baby like Jonah, maybe she had been.
It was my favorite picture of her, the one I always went to when I took quiet moments to think about her.
She’d always been my rock, the one to protect me from Mom’s depression and Dad’s fury. I used to think there could never be a way for me to pay her back for being my savior. One night changed everything. Now, doing all I could to raise her son in the best way possible was the beginning of my remittance.
Remembering that meant remembering that I couldn’t afford to be distracted from what was most important. Jonah was the only family I had left. He was my whole world. I purposefully kept him separate from the rest of my life, so protective of him that I often didn’t even tell people I was raising a child. It didn’t really make sense, but it made me feel good. No matter what happened in the world during the day, I could always come home to the one person who grounded me. I couldn’t risk having anything interfere with that.
Sighing, I stood and went to fill my coffee mug for a second time. Maybe while Jonah was in his karate class, I could sneak into the back and take a nap in the water closet.
A knock on the door made me jump.
“Who’s that?” Jonah asked.
“I don’t know.” I looked over my shoulder at the door, then back at him. “Hey, TV time is over. Go get ready.”
“No, Aunt Candace, but—”
“Go,” I told him, nodding in the direction of his bedroom.
He got up and shuffled down the hall, shutting his bedroom door with a grumpy slam.
A second knock sounded. Hurrying over to the door, I closed one eye and looked through the peephole.
Niall.
I swallowed a gasp and stepped away from the door. Not even twelve hours had passed since I left his place. I wasn’t sure that he would ever try to contact me again, though I’d already decided I wouldn’t get in touch with him. Having him at my apartment so unexpectedly put me in a state of shock.
My hand itched to open the door, but I hesitated. I’d been so clear with myself that morning after waking up from what was maybe a sum total of two hours of sleep. No more Niall. He had issues and clearly didn’t want my help. At this point, any more contact with him would likely just result in his bad mojo seeping into my own life. No way would I put Jonah or myself through the ups and downs of someone who was so detached and confused.
“Candace?”
I clenched my eyes shut, hating how wonderful my name still sounded on his lips. Making a quick decision, I unlocked the door but kept the chain in place. Opening the door just enough so that I could see through, I stared at Niall.
There were bags under his eyes. His usually pristine shirt was rumpled, and I was fairly certain, the same one he wore the night before.
“Candace,” he repeated.
I swallowed hard. “What’s up?”
“Can we talk?”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and averted my eyes. Shake your head, Candace. Shake your head. The answer is no.
I shook my head.
“Just for a few minutes,” he said, sounding exasperated.
I chewed my bottom lip. If I were alone in the apartment, I might have broken down and let him in. Thank God Jonah was there. His presence prohibited me from making such a big mistake.
“Aunt Candace!”
I ground my teeth together as Niall’s eyes went wide.
“Aunt Candace!” Jonah called again. “I can’t find my belt!”
I turned to yell down the hall. “It’s hanging on the inside of your closet! On the handle!”
When I turned back around, Niall’s eyes were still big. “Your nephew?”
I nodded.
“Is he visiting for the weekend?”
I sighed, wanting to lie and just get rid of Niall, but not having it in me. “No. He lives with me.”
Niall’s face froze. So did his breathing, it appeared. I’d never seen someone so completely surprised.
“I don’t casually share that with people.”
His face remained unchanged. “Can I come in?”
“We’re leaving in a little bit.”
Niall shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down, but not quickly enough to hide the pain on his face. My heart constricted. Before I knew it, I was shutting the door and undoing the chain.
I pulled the door fully open and gestured for him to enter. “Come on in.”
He walked in slowly, looking all around with interest.
“Let’s go to my room,” I said, shutting the door.
Jonah had closed his bedroom door once more. He was probably in there playing with his new telescope or sneaking time on my tablet, which he wasn’t supposed to have but had a great knack for finding no matter where it was hidden. I would deal with him in a few minutes. For now, I was just glad he seemed oblivious to my having a guest over.
We went into my bedroom, and I shut the door. I crossed my arms then realized how defensive that looked and dropped them by my sides.
“Your nephew lives with you,” Niall slowly said, like he still couldn’t believe it. He gazed at me like he was seeing a new person there, someone who’d just jumped out of my skin and taken him by surprise.
“For three years now. My sister and her husband died in a car accident.”
Niall blinked like he was trying hard to understand something. “I never would have guessed.”
I pursed my lips. “Maybe you see now why I won’t bullshit around with you, Niall. I don’t have time. I can only have people who are healthy in my life. I need to take care of myself, and
I need to take care of Jonah.”
He ran his palm over his mouth and gave one quick nod. “I want to...” He gulped and grew a little pink.
Could it be? Niall Lambert, the guy who always played it suave and debonair, was actually nervous?
“I want to do better,” he said, looking at me.
I waited for more. It didn’t come.
Not able to take anymore, I threw my hands up in the air. “What does that mean, Niall? You want to do better at what? And how are you going to do whatever that thing is?”
His jaw ticked. “I like you, Candace. I want to see you more. I want to find out where things are going between us.”
He stared at me with a fierceness on his face. No, not fierceness… fear.
Perhaps Niall had never said anything even remotely resembling those words to a woman. If so, letting them fly had to be a big deal for him.
I didn’t want to be flattered, but I couldn’t help it.
My pulse filled my ears, and the room swayed slightly. It was exactly what I wanted to hear from him… but it was also hard to believe.
People don’t just turn on a dime simply because they want to. Just because Niall walked into my apartment telling me he wanted to be different, didn’t mean he’d be able to accomplish that.
He still gazed at me, trepidation on the face that I’d first seen as so strong and reserved. My heart went out to him. He didn’t deserve to go through such pain. No one did.
And if he really did put in the effort and work on himself… I gulped. The results could be good, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and let my mind go there.
“I like you too,” I admitted. “A lot. Though I’ve tried not to.” I shook my head, my exhaustion suddenly doubling.
Niall took a small step toward me. My body responded by jerking in his direction. He reached out his hand like he wanted to touch me. When I didn’t reciprocate, his arm fell back down.
“I have to see something from you,” I said in a low voice. “Some kind of progress.”
His brow furrowed, and he nodded.
“Really, I think you should consider therapy. Not for me, but for you. I hope that you get yourself help just because you’re the first person you need to be thinking of.”
Niall’s face was a carefully blank mask, only the popping of his jawline proving him to be anything other than a mannequin. It was hard to tell just what he was thinking, but he didn’t seem embarrassed or scared anymore.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself. Having him standing right there, alone with me in my bedroom, made the next part extra hard to say, but I had to go through with it.
“If you start doing that,” I explained, keeping my voice soft, “getting professional help, then us starting back up seems plausible. Until then, I can’t see you.”
He blinked heavily. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the argument, and hoping I had the strength to keep resisting him.
“All right,” he answered.
My mouth opened in surprise. I quickly shut it and then nodded. “Great.”
Niall stared at me, his eyes shining in a new way. He pressed his lips together and one corner of his mouth turned up, like he might smile any second.
I cleared my throat and looked down. “We need to be going.”
“All right.”
I kept my eyes off him the entire time I led him to the front door. We didn’t talk about when he would contact me next or if I would contact him. Instead, we just halted after I opened the door and looked at each other for a moment.
“Bye,” I softly said.
“I’ll see you soon, Candace.”
His promise filled me with what felt like helium. If I weren’t inside, I might have floated away, into the sky.
Niall turned and disappeared around the bend in the hall. I stared at the corner for a moment. When would be the next time I saw him? What if it was never? What if he decided he couldn’t go through with therapy, that it was best to just forget about me and go back to his old habits of screwing random women and doing everything in his power to never, ever let people get close?
It’s not up to me.
That I knew for sure. I’d done what I could with Niall, and for him. I gave him my advice and let him go.
Past that point, everything was in his hands.
The only things I needed to do were to learn how to accept whatever happened next between us, to learn how to let him be, and to learn how to let him go.
If he came back, I would love him with all my heart. I knew it right then and there.
And if he didn’t come back…?
My heart twisted at the thought.
If he didn’t come back, I would still love him all the same.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Niall
I’m seeing a therapist downtown on Monday.
That was the first text I sent Candace. She sent a smiley face back, nothing else.
Slowly, week by week, we communicated by text. Each time I went to see my new therapist, I wrote Candace a little message to let her know how things were going. It wasn’t something she asked me to do, or a task my therapist assigned me. It was something I did simply because I wanted to.
At that point, the only person I had to talk to was the man who sat across from me in a small second-floor office every Monday afternoon. For the very first time, I realized just how many people I’d pushed away. I’d probably never had many real friends to begin with, but certainly, Nate was one of them.
After the fourth therapy session, where we talked a lot about making amends, I called Nate up and apologized to him. After that, I did the same to my former secretary, and to a few of the women I’d hurt.
The sessions kept coming and the weeks passed. Three months went by without seeing Candace.
But never a day passed without thinking about her. Each night I went to sleep thinking about the things we would do once we were together again. I could take her to New York for a weekend. Or to Paris fashion week in the fall. Did her nephew like the outdoors? I could take the two of them camping. It had been a while since I took more than a day off work, but for them, I would.
These plans for the future thrilled me, kept me going.
Sharing with you is feeling right, I told Candace after my twelfth therapy session.
I’m so glad, she wrote back. I miss you, Niall. I’d like to see you, but no rush. Take your time. Whenever you’re ready.
Smiling to myself, I practically skipped down the front steps of the downtown building. My Maserati sat parked on the street. I jumped in, an ear to ear grin probably stretched across my face.
With each mile bringing me closer to Candace’s, my heart rate doubled. By the time I pulled up to her street, my hands were shaking. I caught the front door as an older woman was coming out of it, which meant I didn’t need to buzz Candace to let me in.
It was perfect.
Walking up to her floor, I composed another text, this one the hardest, the most thrilling, and the most terrifying thing I’d ever written.
I want to thank you for being straightforward with me. If it wasn’t for you, I never would have gone to therapy. I’m so grateful for you, Candace. I know that I have a lot of work to do. I know it’s only beginning. I won’t stop going to therapy anytime soon. I’m not perfect, but I want to get as close to being that as I can. I want to do it for me, and I want to do it for you. Will you walk down that path with me?
I sent the text and then let out a deep breath. I’d done it. I opened myself up to her. As terrifying as it was, I walked through the fire and made it out alive.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Yes. When can I see you?
This time I knew a giant grin was plastered on my face.
Open your door, I wrote.
I stared at Candace’s door number. Footsteps came from inside the apartment, then the door flew open. She stared at me, even more beautiful than I remembered her being. Her hair was a bit longer, maybe by only an inch
, but I still noticed it. She wore jeans and a tank top and was barefoot, the most dressed down I’d ever seen her.
“Niall,” she slowly said, sounding like she couldn’t believe it was me.
I stepped forward and cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. Taking her face in both my hands, I kissed her with everything I had. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me backwards and into the apartment. I kicked the door closed behind us.
“My room,” she gasped.
I was already a step ahead of her, picking her up so she could wrap her legs around my waist. We spilled into the bedroom, desperately grabbing at each other’s clothes. Her tank top came up and over her head, revealing her smooth and perky breasts.
I laid her down on the bed and pulled her pants off. She clawed at my own clothes. As quick as humanly possible we were both naked.
Needing to feel her skin against mine, I lowered myself onto her and kissed her deeply, running my tongue across hers. She sighed and grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to her. Kissing down her body, I explored her nipples, her belly, and moved lower, settling between her legs.
She cried out my name as I kissed her so intimately, then ran my tongue up her slit. Her hips bucked with pleasure as I wrapped my lips around her clit, sucking it deep into my mouth. I explored her with my teeth and fingers and tongue until she exploded with pleasure.
As I continued to love her with my tongue, I made it a goal to see how many new sounds I could get her to make. I gripped her hips tight, pulling her harder into my mouth as I played with her clit, my tongue flicking across the sensitive nerves.
Her hands dug into my hair, nails scraping my scalp. When she shouted my name, her back arched from the bed as she came. I could see and feel the orgasm exploding through her entire body, but I didn’t let up. One climax rolled into another, and my name turned into a curse.
As she continued to tremble through the onslaught of another orgasm, I rolled a condom on and crawled up her body. I waited for her eyes to open before finding her center, slamming balls deep to the end of her. Watching her face contort in pleasure had become the most important thing in my life. I kept up a steadfastly slow pace, breaking it every once in a while to speed up and tease her.