Abandon (Shattered Hearts, 3.5)

by Cassia Leo

  Fuck. I’m such an asshole.

  “No. I’m not fucking anyone else.” From here on out.

  Chris looks skeptical as we make our way past the pool toward the patio. “Then bare your fucking soul. Give her something that will only mean something to the two of you.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  Senia and I arrive at Grandma’s house a little before noon on Christmas Day. Senia insists we need to arrive early so she can help Grandma cook. Since she had to lie to her family and say she was spending Christmas with Chris and Claire, I have to do as she says. Besides, it’s kind of cool to watch her and Grandma laughing as they chop onions while I imagine the beat of my baby’s heart as the background music.

  When the food is simmering, Senia sends Grandma out of the kitchen to get some rest and calls me in to replace her. The sight of her in one of Grandma’s aprons is weird, but strangely sexy.

  “Can you set the table? We need plates and silverware, and bowls for the pumpkin soup.”

  “Pumpkin soup?” I say, coming up behind her as she stirs the soup on the stove. She pushes my left hand away, but I reach forward and slide my right hand over her abdomen. “You can’t stand in my grandmother’s kitchen, in that apron, barking orders at me, carrying my child, and not expect me to want to touch you. You can’t expect me to not feel like I have some … claim on you.”

  She lets out a deep sigh as I press my chest against her back. “Tristan …” Her voice is breathy and full of longing. “Please don’t say stuff like that. It makes me want to either punch you or tear off your clothes. And I can’t tell which one I want to do more.”

  I slide my hand down and she freezes, but I quickly pull my hand back. “I guess we’ll find out soon.”

  Grandma Flo makes us give thanks before we eat, the way she always does before every Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner, and Senia seems to be a pro at it.

  “Thank you for the food and for inviting me into your home.” She turns to Molly and they both smile. “Thank you for reminding me how much I never want to get drunk again. There are better ways to get wild. Trust me.” She winks at Molly and I shake my head. “Thank you, Mrs. Pollock, for giving me a place to celebrate Christmas – somewhere I can be myself.” Grandma smiles a crooked smile that seems to be masking whatever anguish, emotional or physical, she is feeling. “Tristan,” Senia begins as she turns to me. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

  “What?” I prompt her, but she closes her mouth and eyes and doesn’t speak.

  When she opens her eyes, I expect her to be crying. She seems to cry at the drop of a hat these days with all those hormones coursing through her. “Excuse me,” she whispers as she rises from her chair and heads for the front door.

  I follow after her and she stands on the porch steps where I just finished clearing the snow an hour ago, waiting for something. “What’s wrong?” She shakes her head and I step down onto the step below her so we’re almost eye-level. “Talk to me.”

  “I’ve just never spent Christmas without my family.”

  “I’ll take you there. You don’t have to stay here.”

  “No, I have my car. If I wanted to leave, I’d go. You know that.”

  “Is that why you brought your car?” I ask. “I thought you brought it so you could stop by your parents’ house and say hi to your family.”

  “That is why I brought it … I …”

  “I don’t understand. If you want to be here, why are you upset?”

  She steps sideways so our faces aren’t so close and a thick cloud of steam escapes her mouth as she lets out a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. I just need a minute. I’ll come back inside soon.”

  I wait a moment for her to change her mind and tell me she’s coming inside, but she doesn’t. “It’s cold. Don’t stay out here too long.”

  She closes her eyes and I take that as my cue to head back in. I leave the front door open and take a seat at the dining table, which, thankfully, still has a view of the front door.

  “Where’s Senia?” Molly asks as she sips a glass of cranberry juice.

  “She’s just missing her family a little. She’ll be back inside in a couple of minutes.”

  But a couple of minutes turns into nearly fifteen minutes and I have to check on her. When I open the door, Senia’s car is gone. My first instinct is to hop into my car and go to her parents’ house, but they don’t know about me yet and I don’t want to cause her any more trouble then she may already be in for not showing up to their Christmas dinner.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket. It’s a long-shot, but I have to at least try to call her. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t answer, but I’m not upset because I’ve been a bit of an asshole to her about using her phone while driving. I look up and down the street, foolishly hoping she may have just parked a few houses away to think in the warmth of the car heater, but her car is nowhere. I wait a few minutes, to give her some time to get wherever she’s going, then I begin typing a text message to her.

  Me: Where are you?

  I hesitate before I hit the send button. This text message sounds demanding. I swallow my pride and type two more words.

  Me: Where are you? I’m worried.

  I hit send and I get a response a few minutes later, just as Molly comes outside to see what’s going on.

  Senia: I’m home. I’m in the study catching up on my homework.

  I’m confused. She just said that she was upset because she wasn’t spending Christmas with her family and now she’s gone home – to our home – instead of to her family’s house. Why do women have to be so fucking complicated? I think as I reach into my pocket and grab my keys.

  “Can I come with you?” Molly asks.

  I smile. “Not this time. I think Senia and I have some stuff to talk about.”

  Molly laughs. “You’re whipped.”

  “What? I am not whipped.”

  “Yeah, you are. But that’s okay. She’s worth it.”

  I shake my head as I head for my car. “Tell Grandma she doesn’t need to clean up. I’ll send Lily over tomorrow morning.”

  “Don’t be a pussy!” she shouts at me as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Tell her how you feel.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Senia

  I probably screwed things up with Tristan and his family, but I couldn’t sit there and pretend like my mind wasn’t elsewhere. And I couldn’t tell Tristan what I was thinking. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m clingy and demanding. I needed a timeout.

  So here I am in Tristan’s study, which is right next door to the room where he practices bass for hours at a time. If he’s that dedicated to his job, I should try to be that dedicated to my schoolwork. I can’t let all this family stuff and all these emotions sidetrack me. But now that Tristan knows I’m here, I fully expect him to come walking through the door into the study and say something totally stupid or totally dreamy. It won’t matter because, either way, it won’t be the words I want to hear; the same words I nearly blurted out at his Grandma’s dining table.

  I’m such an idiot. I need to move out of here.

  I grab my laptop and textbook then head back to my bedroom. I grab my suitcase out of the closet and begin stuffing the inner pocket with all my panties and bras. Then I pull a zipped case out from underneath the bed: my new goodie drawer since I know Tristan has probably searched all the drawers on this dresser.

  “So that’s where you keep it?”

  His voice makes my skin ache. I want to turn around to face him, but I’m afraid of what his face will look like when he realizes I’m packing.

  “Are you packing?”

  I turn around and his eyes are narrowed, as if he’s a
ngry. “I can’t live here any more.”

  “Is this because I asked you to have Christmas with us?”

  “What? No! That’s … that’s not it at all. It’s just …”

  I try to think of a lie, but my mind is not working at normal speed. And the truth is not an option. I can’t tell him I’m leaving because I’m in love with him. That just sounds stupid and if he doesn’t feel the same … I don’t know if I could handle finding out.

  “What is it?” he asks as he takes a step toward me.

  “I’m … I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

  He laughs as he reaches forward and grabs my hand. “You’re leaving because you didn’t get me a present? Come on, what are you going to get me that I don’t already have?”

  Exactly what I thought when I was trying to figure out what I was going to get him, which is why I had the brilliant idea of giving him … “Me.”

  His smile disappears and I know I’ve scared him. That’s it. I have to leave. I shake his hand off and turn around to continue packing.

  He grabs my elbow and turns me around, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes search my face for something. “I didn’t get you anything either. Well, nothing you can unwrap and hold in your hands.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say. “I know how much you hate commuting to class, so I rented an apartment near campus. I want us to move there before next semester.”

  “An apartment?”

  “Did you just say you’re giving me you for Christmas?”

  I think I’m going to be sick. Why did I say that? “Sorry. It just sort of slipped out.”

  I try to turn around again to continue packing, but he tightens his grip on my elbow. “Look at me.” I look up into his fierce gray eyes and say a mental prayer that I don’t vomit.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This may be the biggest mistake of my life or the smartest thing I’ve ever done. All I know is that it has to be done. I can’t watch her go so soon. Not on Christmas.

  “When I asked Chris what I should get you, he told me I should get you something that means something only to me and you. I didn’t know what the fuck that meant and I thought the apartment would be a great present, but I think you’re better at this than I am. I need you to teach me. I need … I need you.” She bites her lip, but I can’t tell if she’s doing it to keep from crying or laughing. “Say something.”

  Finally, she smiles and I let out the breath I’m holding. “I think what you mean is … I love you.”

  My body tenses when I hear the words, but I know it’s only because I haven’t heard them in so long. “You love me?”

  She nods and a strange sensation builds inside me that is so powerful it lights the hollow of my chest on fire. Is this what love feels like? ‘Cause it fucking hurts.

  I grab the sides of her head and tilt her face up. There’s a weird trembling in my chest, but my hands are steady and firm as I look her in the eye. “I love you. Nothing else can explain how crazy you make me. And I want you to stay with me, tonight, tomorrow, and … for as long as it takes to make this right, because I know everything seems completely fucked up right now. But it won’t always be that way. We’ll get it right, won’t we?”

  She nods again and a tear rolls down her cheek. “We’ll get it right,” she whispers. “Eventually.”

  I smile as I lean in to kiss her cheek and the taste of her tears is better than I remember it. I kiss the corner of her mouth and her hands glide up to grab handfuls of my hair. She kisses me hard as I slide my hands under her UNC T-shirt. Her skin is so warm and soft. I can only imagine how much softer it will get over the next few months.

  I yank my hoodie off then I pull her shirt over her head. She drags out the moment, moving at an achingly slow pace as she unclasps her lacy white bra and lets it fall to the floor. Her nipples are stiff and inviting. She moans into my mouth as I kiss her and press my chest against hers.

  “Are you ready to be fucked?” I whisper as I move down to kiss her neck.

  She throws her head back and lets out a throaty laugh that’s sexy as hell. “Oh, Tristan.”

  “What?”

  She smiles as she traces her finger along my jawline, then she looks me in the eye. “Are you ready to have your world turned inside out?”

  I let out a soft chuckle and her smile turns me on even more. “Baby, you can turn me inside out, upside down, sideways … whatever position you prefer. I’m ready when you are.”

  “I have more than a few positions in mind.”

  She reaches for my waistband, but she doesn’t unbutton my jeans. She grabs my waistband and attempts to push me toward the bed, but I’m too solid to be moved.

  She laughs sheepishly and I kiss her forehead. “You can always just ask and I’d be happy to lie down for you.”

  “Can you please lie down?”

  “No. You lie down.”

  “Are we going to argue about this?”

  “Nope, because you’re going to do exactly as I say and you’re not going to argue with me. Now strip down and lie on the bed.”

  I shove her suitcase off the bed as she undresses, then I unzip her goodie bag. Sifting through the contents, I find an assortment of tools, most of which I’ve used before, but some are a bit foreign, and that intrigues me. First things first, I undress and slip a soft rubber cock ring down to the base of my erection; there will be no premature ejaculation tonight. I glance over at Senia and she’s biting her lip as she watches me. I pull out a smooth pink vibrator that’s as big as my dick, then I lie down next to her. She reaches for me, but I push her hands away.

  “You’re not allowed to touch me. Just close your eyes and try not to scream too loud.”

  She giggles nervously as she closes her eyes and I turn the vibrator on. I press it against the crook of her neck then I slowly trace a line over the hollow of her throat and down to her chest. She’s breathing faster now and I’m getting harder just watching her chest move quickly up and down. I lightly brush the vibrator over her nipple and she squeezes her eyes tightly shut as she whispers, “Oh, God.”

  I trace a light circle around her areola with the vibrator, then I take her nipple into my mouth. I alternate between sucking and flicking and her back begins to arch.

  “Try not to move.”

  She lets out a nervous chuckle. “Impossible.”

  I trail the vibrator over her other nipple then I run it down over her abdomen. I plant a soft kiss just below her navel and I can feel her muscles tense with anticipation.

  “Just breathe,” I murmur as I slide the vibrator over her mound and stop there. “Relax.”

  I gently spread her legs open and position myself between them. The perfect landing strip of hair I remember from the last time we did this a month ago has grown out a little. I trace the vibrator gently over her slit and she gasps. I keep going until I reach her cheeks then I move back up. I do this a few more times until she’s glistening wet, then I slide the vibrator inside of her, just a few inches, and immediately cover her clit with my mouth.

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” she cries, as I angle the vibrator upwards and suck lightly.

  “That’s not my name,” I say, then I swirl my tongue and gently press my forearm down on her abdomen to hold her steady as her hips begin to buck.

  “Tristan,” she breathes as her body quivers beneath me. “Oh, God, Tristan.”

  She grabs my hair and lets out a blood-curdling scream as I finish her off. She begins to pull me up by my hair, but I push her hands away. I turn off the vibrator and set it aside as I continue to stimulate her with my mouth. But this time I slide a finger between her cheeks and her entire body contracts around me as I give her another earth-shattering orgasm.

  “Oh my God,” she whispers
repeatedly as I kiss my way up her belly.

  She’s limp as a wet rag as I slide my arm beneath her lower back and lift her slightly so I can slide into her. She winces as I hit her cervix and the cock ring hits her sensitive clit. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and I tilt my head back to look at her. We lock eyes and I suddenly feel as if I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

  Thrusting into her slowly, I lean my forehead against hers and she tightens her arms around my shoulders. We play like this, a sort of back and forth game of giving and receiving; completely lost in each other for hours. I don’t notice the four missed calls or the three voicemail messages flashing on my phone until the next morning – until it’s too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Poetry is defined as a literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm. This is also what music does. I’ve never considered myself a poet. And the fact that I haven’t written a song in more than three years makes me even less worthy of this title. But waking up next to Senia in the guest bedroom sparks a flash of inspiration and I think of two lines:

  The day our wires crossed,

  You were broken, I was lost.

  I’m sure the logical conclusion would be that now, somehow, Senia is whole and I am found. The truth is love isn’t like that. I think I’m finally starting to realize that love isn’t about fixing things or people. It’s about sticking around when things can’t be fixed.