Back to Life Series Box Set

by Danielle Allen

  I turned and was immediately struck by CJ’s good looks and the power that emanated off of him. It wasn’t just a sexual energy that captivated me. It was the purpose in his walk, the confidence in his body language, and the dignity in which he held himself together. CJ was a man, a real man, not a boy pretending to be a man. That was the basis for my attraction to him. His tall, muscular frame and perfect smile were secondary.

  Admittedly, a close second, I thought, as he got closer.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you,” CJ said as he maneuvered between the small crowd that had gathered.

  I could see the hesitation in his face before he turned around to face the crowd. “I’m going to need you to either move inside or exit the building. You’re blocking the entrance.”

  They obliged without any further instructions and moved inside.

  I bit my lip to keep from grinning like a love-struck fool. Unable to keep looking at him, I glanced over at Addison who was making a face.

  “They were saying hello to one another,” she stated, hands on her hips.

  “They were a fire code violation,” he retorted.

  “They were only moved a few feet away. I’m sure they can still hear you,” I mentioned, gesturing to the group that was still in listening distance.

  They glanced at how close they were and all three of us burst out laughing.

  “Okay, I’m so glad we met. I’ll call you tomorrow so we can chat.” She enveloped me in a big hug and I squeezed her tightly. “Everything happens for a reason,” she whispered.

  I nodded and then we said goodbye. Turning to look at CJ, I couldn’t hold eye contact for very long.

  “Here,” his deep voice rumbled as he opened my coat for me.

  I slipped my arms in and then stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He looked at his watch. “The dancers do a second performance in twenty minutes so let me walk you to your car.”

  When his hand landed on my lower back, I could feel the heat against my skin through my coat and my dress. It rendered me speechless.

  After guiding me up the stairway and after a quick goodbye to Big Mike, CJ and I were walking silently side-by-side. It wasn’t at all how I wanted our last few moments to go, but I was afraid that I would say something to mess with our newly minted friendship.

  “Are you okay to drive? I purposely didn’t put that much alcohol in your drinks and you ate dinner. I will take you home and then take a taxi back here if you need me to.”

  “I’m fine. I knew you made the drinks weak, but they were still really good.”

  He smiled, but didn’t say anything. We continued to walk in silence.

  “You’re quiet. What’s going on?” He asked as we waited for the signal to indicate when it was time to cross the road. I stared at the lines of the crosswalk, but when I didn’t immediately respond, he put his forefinger under my chin and turned my head toward him. “The truth.”

  The light turned and he let go of my face and instead draped his arm around my shoulder. Instinctively, I put my arm around him and cozied into him. I let out an audible breath as I relished in how good I felt with him.

  We entered the parking deck, took the elevator, and located my car that was still parked in the same spot as the night before. As we approached, I saw CJ watching me out of the corner of my eye.

  “I’m not going to let you go without you telling me what’s going on,” he warned.

  I blinked back the tears that wet my eyes out of nowhere. Swallowing the stinging in the back of my throat, I looked at him. Being so close to him was intoxicating and my truth flitted out in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go back home.”

  He searched my face before stepping in front of me and cupping my cheeks in his hands. He didn’t say anything and whatever was happening between us was only intensified by the silence. The electricity pinged between us and somehow our bodies gravitated closer until there was no space left.

  “Did he put his hands on you? Are you scared of him?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” Looking into his eyes hurt. I let my lashes flutter closed for a brief second before I stared into the darkest eyes I’d ever seen. “I know what I’m walking back into and I’m just not looking forward to it. With him, it’s just going to be a lot of bullshit. But with everyone else, it’s going to be people judging me, pitying me, because it’s always the woman’s fault.” I made a face that was part disgust, part frustration, and part sadness. “It just sucks to be in that environment. And here, with you, I didn’t have to worry about that. So, thank you for not feeling sorry for me. I hate being pitied. I had enough of that after the accident. I just wanted some time to be me again; before the bullshit starts.”

  CJ’s thumbs skated across my cheeks as his hands cradled my head. He brought his face within inches of mine. “Why would I feel sorry for you? I’m sorry that asshole did that to you, but I don’t feel sorry for you. He did you a favor.” The gravelly tone of his voice heated me to my core. He kissed my forehead. “You had a boy doing the job that was meant for a man.”

  My heart skipped several beats when his lips brushed against my forehead, but when he uttered those words, I got goosebumps. My gaze dropped to his sexy mouth and I inhaled sharply. I’d never wanted to kiss someone as bad as I wanted to kiss CJ. He knew I wanted him and I knew he wasn’t making a move on a married woman. But for the briefest of seconds, I felt his guard slip and his resolve wane.

  His lips parted and it would’ve only taken a slight head tilt on my part to connect our lips. But I second and third guessed myself. After he’d rebuffed my advances, repeatedly twenty-four hours prior, I wasn’t about to try again.

  “Where did you come from?” I wondered longingly, my voice barely audible as a muffler-less truck rumbled by.

  “Your dreams.”

  My eyes snapped back up to his as I gave him an incredulous look. Trying to stifle my giggle, I brought my eyebrows together. “What? Are you kidding me? Who says that?”

  The amusement danced in his eyes. “You know it’s true.”

  I laughed heartily. “I’m calling bullshit!” I swatted at his arm playfully.

  Without warning, CJ pulled our bodies together, pinning me between him and my car. My entire body caught fire and I was so turned on I couldn’t move. My hands splayed against the hood as I resisted the urge to grab hold of him.

  “That’s what I needed before you left me,” he uttered.

  What did you need? To fill me with explicitly sexual images and thoughts of you so I can take care of myself later? Because damn! Mission accomplished.

  My heart stuttered in my chest. “Um, what did you need…?” I swallowed the rest of my sentence. I could almost feel him hearing my naughty thoughts which made me smirk.

  “I needed to see you smile, hear you laugh. That’s the last image I wanted to have of you and this weekend. That’s what I wanted to take away. I wanted to see you happy.”

  “That’s why I don’t want to go home.” Letting out a shaky breath, I fought the urge to cry. “I just want to feel the way I feel right now. I don’t want to feel hurt. I don’t want to feel betrayed. I don’t want to deal with everything I have to deal with tomorrow. I just want to feel like me again. I just want…”

  This.

  Instead of finishing my sentence, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Putting my head on his chest, over his heart, I listened to the steady beat. Inhaling, I took in his scent. I wanted to remember everything about him. I wanted to remember the safety in his arms and the honesty in his words. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be cared for and taken care of.

  “This isn’t goodbye,” I choked out as I squeezed my eyes shut.

  He said nothing, but he held me tighter, dropping kisses against my temple.

  “This isn’t goodbye,” I repeated, a tear slipping from my eyes and landing on the wool of his coat.

  Chapter 8

  Saturd
ay, January 14th – 5:56pm

  I sat in my car and peered down the block to my house. The short street ended in a cul-de-sac and from where I sat, I could just make out Anthony’s car parked in the driveway. Gripping the wheel, I pulled myself forward and rested my head against the back of my hands.

  I’ve put this off long enough, I thought just before I said a silent prayer.

  After waking up and packing the car, I rode to the area where my Atlanta based studio would’ve been. I allowed myself a few minutes to relish in the thought of running a bigger studio in Atlanta and getting off of work to come home to a good man who loved me and protected me. I thought about what life would look like if I didn’t have to watch my own back.

  With my eyes closed, the thought hit me again, harder and more descriptive than the daydream I’d had while driving. I sucked in a sharp breath and forced myself to open my eyes. Images of a life with CJ filling our home with laughter and love, protection and adoration, and hot and steamy sex made me uncomfortable because of how bad I wanted it. Even I wasn’t so caught up in my emotions that I didn’t realize that CJ was a metaphor. He represented everything I wanted and everything that Anthony was not. CJ was the epitome of a man, my ideal man.

  So do I have real feelings for CJ or is it the metaphor and what he represents that I’m responding to?

  Sitting up, I let my head fall back to the headrest and I stared at the two-story mini mansion Anthony and I had purchased after selling my starter home. The house we spent the majority of our married life in was no longer going to be my home. My chest tightened and my shoulders slacked. I did all of the interior design for the house. I turned the house into a home for us. I made it uniquely ours and even though I knew what I needed to do, the nostalgia tugged at my heartstrings.

  Be strong. Trust your gut. Do what’s best for you.

  The words that Addison repeated as I told her the entire story surrounding my marital destruction played in my head. The story rendered her speechless as she was as caught up in the romance as I was when I told her about our meeting at the hospital and the subsequent courtship. She was just as silent when I told her about the things he’d done to me. For the last two hours of my trip, she attentively listened and responded as I detailed how the trust broke down long before the grisly end. I explained how I tried and fought for our marriage, how he lied and cheated, how he tried to trap me with a baby. Even retelling the story, everything felt so unreal.

  How did we get to this point?

  My eyes filled with tears as I started the car and made the left turn down my road, parking on the street. Before I was able to open the door, the tears were streaming down my face. I grabbed my luggage from the backseat and my heart broke. I felt it crack open in my chest and I foolishly put my palm over my heart, hoping that would keep it together. As I walked up the driveway, I let out a sob and had to pause on the sidewalk to keep myself from collapsing. Finally, unable to carry the weight of the pain anymore, I fell to my knees on the cold, hard ground. Silent cries ripped through my body.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’d gathered myself, dried my eyes and walked into the house with a purpose. I heard the volume from one of the television sets mute before footsteps quickly followed. I didn’t have the strength or energy to prolong the silent treatment so I dropped my bag in the laundry room and made it to the kitchen at the same time he appeared.

  Wearing navy blue sweatpants and a white, Atlanta Braves t-shirt, Anthony looked relaxed, without a care in the world.

  “It’s about time,” he greeted me, arms wide open for a hug. I took a step back and he paused, a look of confusing creased his brow. “I haven’t seen or talked to my wife in over a week.”

  I put my hand up. “I’m not your wife,” I responded hoarsely. “Not anymore.”

  He searched my face. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulled out my engagement ring and band. “Just because you leave these behind doesn’t change the fact that we’re married. I’m still your husband and you’re still my wife.” He placed the rings on the counter.

  I noticed his wedding band still on his finger.

  It was also on his finger as he fucked that nurse.

  I pursed my lips. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do.” He gestured to the kitchen table. “Can I take your coat at least?”

  I allowed him to help me out of my coat and while he hung it up, I grabbed a bottle of water and took a seat at the table.

  “I missed you,” Anthony said as he sat next to me. “I love you.”

  I was quiet. My eyes watered as I glared at him. “Then why did you do it?”

  He dropped his head into his hands. “I told you. I made a mistake.” He lifted his handsome face and gave me puppy dog eyes. “I don’t want to lose you over a mistake, Emily. I love you too much. Please forgive me.”

  “If you love me so much, why did you do it?”

  He looked around the room as if the answer was floating along the ceiling. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. You were in pain and… I don’t know.”

  My eyebrows came together and my entire face felt tight. “So our relationship meant that little to you that you would just betray me for no real reason?”

  “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “Then explain it to me. Tell me the truth. The whole truth.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, silently begging me to forgive him.

  I felt the burn in my throat and behind my eyes as I asked, “How could you do this to me?”

  “It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t a big deal because she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He lifted his hands. “I’ll have her replaced and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I won’t do it again. She means nothing to me. She was nothing.”

  “So do I mean anything to you? Because this is a big deal to me.”

  “Yes, of course you do. You mean everything to me.”

  The words gutted me. I stared at the glass vase in the middle of the table with the artificial flowers inside and concentrated on not falling apart. Unable to look at him, I responded softly. “Yet, you were still able to betray me without a second thought.”

  He sighed loudly and my eyes pinged all over his face, taking in his expression as he slumped in his chair. “It happened. I said I was sorry. I made a mistake. One mistake. That’s it. If you love me, how can you just give up on us like this? Where’s the unconditional love? Where’s the—?”

  “Don’t you dare try to make yourself the victim! Where was the unconditional love when you had that bitch bent over in front of your desk?” I snapped, barely keeping it together.

  He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything for a moment. “It was a mistake. A one-time mistake.”

  If this asshole says one-time or mistake one more time, I’m going to chuck this vase at his head. He just keeps lying. He just keeps on lying. If you’re lying in your apology, it voids the apology. If you’re lying when I beg you to tell me the truth, you don’t respect me. If you’re lying about who you are and what you’re about, does that make everything we built a lie?

  “Was any of it real?” I asked and when he looked confused, I further explained. “Our relationship. Was any of it real on your end?”

  He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “How can you ask that? Of course it was real. It’s still real. I love you.”

  “Did you use protection? A condom at least?”

  “Yes, of course,” he answered quickly, scooting his chair closer to me. “What are you thinking, Em? Of course I did. I love you.”

  Why does he keep lying? If he loved me at all, he would tell the truth. He would just admit it and be honest with me.

  He must’ve forgotten that I walked in and saw that he was not wearing a condom. My chest felt hollow as it felt like my heart stopped beating. The conviction in his voice, in his face as he lied to me was killing me. My heart broke into a million jagged shards as the man I loved and
would’ve done anything for disrespected me to my face without batting an eye or breaking a sweat.

  This was normal for him.

  This was easy for him.

  This was common for him.

  I swallowed hard. “How many times have you been unfaithful to me?”

  “Once. Just once. I swear to God.”

  I flinched.

  And there it is. The end.

  I was sure the relationship was over when I left for Atlanta. I loved him, but couldn’t continue in a relationship with him. With the quiet solitude of my hotel room, I made my decision and then closed and locked the door on our relationship after I listened to Anthony’s insensitive and arrogant voicemail messages. But if there was a miracle chance for our relationship to be salvaged, it died right then and there. There was no coming back from the cliff of divorce that his lies and disrespect just pushed me over. Our relationship was officially over and, unfortunately, the relationship wasn’t the only casualty.

  It was as if he had stabbed me in the gut and shot me in the head at the same time. My brain exploded in a headache that bordered on migraine level pain. My stomach, coiled in knots of angst and pain, twisted violently, almost causing me to vomit. I struggled to take in a whole breath and I started to panic. I’d witnessed enough of Sahara’s anxiety attacks to know exactly what was brewing. My body shook, visibly shook, with sadness. But I didn’t let the tears fall. I held them back as I squared my shoulders.