She’d noticed the bikini on a clearance rack in front of a store the night she and Christian went dancing. The four-dollar price tag had caught her frugal eye, and she needed new swimming suits again, but the bikini was even skimpier than her last two. In all the clothes Paul had purchased for her the day things fell apart, there were no new suits. The sales price had made her take a minute to debate whether she should buy it.
She’d finally dismissed the idea, knowing Paul would have a cow, even with a camisole, but after running into him at the Starfish that night, she didn’t really care about what he thought at the time. On the way home, in an angry huff, she’d made Christian wait for her as she made the purchase with her own money.
The sundress did happen to be in the batch of clothes Paul had purchased from what she now referred to as, The Consummation Store. She hadn’t planned to wear it, their current problems had her thinking she’d have to save her marriage first, but after what happened the night before, she realized the timing couldn’t be better.
She’d always believed she didn’t know how to play games, but the stakes were too high, and she was desperate. She’d made an educated guess as to why Paul had thrown those men into the water earlier. Knowing that Paul wasn’t the only one noticing her almost made her change her mind, but she would willingly fight with whatever means she had at her disposal to keep him in her life.
The look on his face earlier, when he’d noticed her wearing the bikini—after he’d tossed those men—she’d held her breath, expecting him to charge her, and insist she cover up, if not drag her out of there by her hair. But he’d played it cool, like now, even though he kept stealing glances at her with a befuddled look on his face. She finally had to turn away so he wouldn’t see her satisfied smirk. She felt it a small victory in what she deemed an act of war.
oOo
Paul imposed himself into the dinner plans of Tracy and Regina, and a group of their friends, which meant that Rhees would be imposing as well. After their talk at Oscar’s, it surprised, and saddened Rhees to see him still trying to get out of spending too much time with her, alone. He didn’t drink at all, and alcohol was the last thing Rhees wanted after her liquid lunch, but he did his best to extend the meal, pushing the others to have, yet another drink, and ordering dessert for everyone, on him.
It grew late and no one could be persuaded to party any longer, so Paul and Rhees found themselves silently making their way north until they reached the shop. They both stopped at the same time, hesitating, not knowing whether they were turning right, to his apartment, or left, to the shop.
“The shop?” they both asked at the same time. It seemed the safer territory.
oOo
Paul had the mat all laid out with the pillows and sheets from the spare room, which was now her closet, when she came from the bathroom. He sat on the deck floor, leaning against the gazebo railing, staring somberly out over the ocean, even though it was dark. Instead of climbing onto the mat to go to sleep, she sat next to him, and after a long while, rested her head on his shoulder. He didn’t protest. After another few minutes, he rested his head against hers and reached for her hand.
“I honestly don’t know what to do here.” He finally broke the silence, watching himself caress her hand with his. “Even my brain—especially my brain, isn’t enough to figure out what to do about any of this.”
“Maybe your IQ is the problem. You’re overthinking it. But you’re stuck with me. Give me the silent treatment, shoot me those icy eyes, yell, scream, do whatever you think you need to do, but I’m not leaving here.”
“What if I left?”
She whipped her head around to look at him, and exhaled what sounded like a tortured sigh.
“You’re sick, Baby.”
“You’re right.”
It was the first time she hadn’t argued with him about it and Paul looked at her, surprised.
“I’m lovesick. I’m in love with the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.”
“Pfft.” He rattled his head and they were both silent again for a while.
“I know you didn’t fall in love with me because of my looks. If that were the case, you would have come home with me the night you said you were gay.”
“Yep.” She nodded in agreement. “Not your looks, although your pretty face is a bonus, as well as your perfectly sculpted body.”
He cursed under his breath but didn’t seem to want to argue about her calling him pretty. Instead, he yawned, and tried to shake off how tired he had to be.
“I know you didn’t marry me for my money. You didn’t realize I had any until it was too late.”
“Nope, not the money.”
“See? There is no logical explanation for it, other than what—”
“What Keene said? That’s bull.”
“It’s not bull. You’re only with me because your rape-dar recognized the kind of man I am. That vile bastard, punk kid, triggered something in you twenty years ago. What you think is love . . . is just a sick byproduct of what happened to you. You need help, and when you get it, you’ll see I’m right.” He looked up at the night sky and she noticed how shiny his eyes had become, reflected from the light of the moon.
“I’m not as good as you think I am. I thought we’d established that already.”
“You’re absolutely the devil.” He chuckled, but then slipped back into his doom and gloom mood. “That’s the effect I have on you, and I know it’s only going to get worse.”
“It is?” She grabbed on to the sliver of hope in his sentence. He didn’t use any ridiculous clarifiers like, it’s only going to get worse, if you stay with me, or it’s only going to get worse if I don’t stop trying to cram Keene’s nuthouse down your throat.
“Are you putting an end to this stupid plan you have to get me well enough to stop loving you?”
“Well, since I can’t keep my big, drunken mouth in check—or keep He—out of you, I’d say that plan will have to be scuttled.”
She turned and sat up on her knees to look at him, with even more hope.
“So, we can really just be married, and live happily ever after?”
He snorted a laugh and shook his head at her; letting her know how unbelievable he thought she was, but his comments made her the happiest she’d been, for too long. He shocked her even more by grabbing for her around the waist, and pulling her into his lap, cuddling her like a baby, but more vehemently.
“Oh, Rhees,” he said, resting his chin on top of her head, his voice revealing the dilemma he felt himself facing. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hold me in your arms like this, forever?”
He chuckled again but sounding unsure of himself.
“There’s no place I’d rather be.” She smiled up at him, but he didn’t smile back, warning her that, while things had improved, they weren’t quite where she wanted them to be . . . yet.
“There’s no place I’d rather you be, too.” He didn’t sound convincing enough.
Her heart sank at the long pause between what he’d said, and what she knew he was about to say. She finally jumped in with what she thought he was thinking—to cut him off at the pass—just in case.
“I never once, thought, ‘Oh, look. There’s Paul. I’d sure like to be raped by him’.” She knew it was a risk. He’d said, several times, how he was tired of talking about it.
“Maybe.” He ran his fingers up and down her arm, not really noticing what he was doing as he was lost in thought. “But maybe you don’t even realize—I can’t just stand by, knowing you need help, and not get it for you. I can’t just sit by and watch the beauty in you be destroyed, because of me—by me.
“There’s no logical explanation. There’s no other reason someone like you would fall for someone like me. It’s always puzzled me, but I was
n’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, until Keene explained it. Since then—after everything—if you’re right, if you’re not with me because of that—I don’t know why the fuck you are.”
“Gah!” She started to shake, so frustrated with him for being so damned pig-headed, but words failed her. He was hell-bent on believing all the psychobabble Keene had fed him, and it made her want to scream.
“Damn your parents!” It came out before she could catch herself. “I’m sorry, I mean, dang them, but that’s just not strong enough. May they drown in a tub of their own urine.”
Paul laughed. “I’ll let that one slide since I started it. I shouldn’t have said the F-word. I’m sorry.”
“Listen to me and listen good—because I’m getting so . . . feather-mucking sick of this od-gay amned-day conversation too.”
“What?”
“I want to not swear, with flair. I’m experimenting. It’s harder than you’d think—but that’s off subject.” She pulled away from him enough to hold his face between her hands, looking him in the eye. “I’m going to tell you why I love you, once and for all. Do you hear me?”
He nodded slightly, but he looked wary.
“I love you because you take care of me. I know that sounds lame—I am lame, because I’m a grown woman and I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself—but you know what a baby I am, which would make most guys run for their lives. You’re always there for me—well—until last night, but I’m calling that a one-time glitch. Paul, Baby . . .” She saw him press his lips together to suppress a smile at the endearment. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I never want to have to figure that out. The very thought of it makes me panic.”
“You’re stronger than you think you are. You’re tou—”
“Tough as nails. Yeah, yeah.”
“Just because you don’t believe me, or in yourself, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
She narrowed her eyes, deliberating what he’d said.
“I’ll work on believing it, if you’ll work on accepting that you’re worthy of being loved.”
He looked off, bothered, and she shook her head, hating his family more each day.
“Back to my Why I love you speech.” She wasn’t about to give up yet. “Remember when the Swensons were here? The day they did the night dive, I noticed you did a double-take when you overheard me telling Tracy and Regina that I couldn’t go to lunch with them, because I didn’t have any money left. I saw the look on your face, but at the time, I thought you were just being a sourpuss, as usual.”
That made the corner of his mouth quirk up in an almost smile, but he dropped his head and looked self-conscious, because he probably knew what was coming.
“But that evening, I miraculously found sixteen dollars in my pocket, enough to eat well for the next few days.
“The more I thought about it, the more I knew I hadn’t put it there and forgotten about it. I never carry sixteen dollars around with me at one time, let alone ram that much change into my pocket. No, Paul. You put it there, because you cared. That look I mistook for grumpiness, was actually concern, because you have a bigger heart than you like to admit. After that, every few days, I’d find more money, everywhere, in my pockets, at the bottom of my backpack—in my BC pocket—what would I need money for during a dive? ‘Oh, I think I’ll stop off at the local sand bar and buy a drink’,” she teased.
He glanced up at her joke and gave her one of his crooked grins. His eyes sparkled with mirth, but then he looked down again when she continued on about him.
“I already knew you weren’t really as mean as you wanted me to think you were—well some of the time—but that’s one thing I love about you, your big, generous heart. You not only look out for me, but you’re always stepping in for the underdog. You’d take care of just about everyone on this island if they needed help.
“Then there’s your big . . .” She left him hanging a minute, flashing her eyebrows up and down, going for the double entendre. He tilted his head at her, and blinked slowly. “Brain.”
She giggled and sneaked in for a quick peck on his lips.
“Apparently, I’m a sucker for an intelligent man. Next, I love your hard work ethic, your passion for life. You work hard, play hard—you give everything you do, everything you’ve got—it’s so hot!
“I love you because you listen to my long, boring stories. You call me beautiful and make me believe you, even though I know I’m not. You deny it, but you are very romantic. You’re so patient—well, not really—not by nature, but with me, you’ve been so patient. You always know what to do, and you take charge. I don’t have to worry about anything, and the pathetic wimp in me needs that. You’re always there for me.” She choked up on the next words, “You make me feel precious.”
She cleared her throat.
“My parents are the only ones who’ve ever really loved me—they had to. That’s what parents are supposed to do—” Her eyes darted to his, remembering that he didn’t have that. She lifted her hand to his cheek, believing that he wanted his parents to love him, that it was more important to him than he let on. She rushed forward to get away from the topic. “They’re supposed to, but you had a choice . . . I don’t understand why. I think sometimes—sometimes I know that someday, you’re just going to walk away, and leave me . . . but . . . even the past few days . . .” Tears had filled her eyes, and she looked up into his and whispered, “You’re still here.”
She sniffed a few times and tried to gain her composure, knowing how hard she had to fight to make sure that it stayed true, knowing that it might not be true much longer. She wiped her eyes. She gave him a watery smile.
“You make me feel safe.” She purposely ignored how unsafe she’d felt the past few days. “I have an absurd, voracious need to feel safe, and I feel safe with you—I know you’d die to protect me. That’s how I know, positively, that it’s not just some passing crush or infatuation.
“When Creepy grabbed me—” A sob hiccupped from her throat, and she fought to hold it together to get the rest out. “Normally, I would have freaked out, wondering how that could possibly be happening to me again, and obviously, that part hit me later, but at that moment, I didn’t care.”
Paul pulled her into his chest again, and she took a deep breath, using the gesture to borrow his strength.
“For once in my life—I realized my love for you is stronger than fear—I didn’t think about how terrible it would be—what was about to happen to me—because all I could think about was you. I knew there was no possible way you weren’t going to try to save me, and I knew they were going to kill you for it. I actually thought, hanging over Creepy’s shoulder, that I’d rather get raped by a million low-life scumbags than watch you die.”
She felt his chest rise with a long inhale, but then he held his breath and didn’t say anything to challenge her statement. Instead, he lovingly caressed her, holding her with one hand, while he trailed the other up and down her arm.
“I can’t see my life without you in it. I don’t want to ever have to. I love you, Paul.” She stuttered in a few gulps of air. “I love you.”
She felt him reach up and wipe his face, and she wondered if he was crying too, but she didn’t break the closeness to look up and check. She wrapped her arm around his neck instead.
“We’re good for each other. You said I make you feel redeemable. I don’t know how, but I know you make me feel . . . not so afraid all the time. So together, we’re better, we make each other better.”
He blew out a long, loud breath.
“I wish it were that simple. We are just so different, so opposite.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed.
“That’s not a bad thing,” she said, looking up at him.
He licked his lips and chewed on them, she knew he w
as thinking about that, skeptical of its validity, as it applied to him.
“I’m so torn. The battle raging in my heart is tearing me apart. The desire is so strong, to do what I always do, and just ignore my conscience, do what I want. I’m a predator, and you’re the prey. I could keep you, and I think you’d be fine with that, for now, in your condition, but that’s not right to take advantage of your . . . frailty. That’s what I want to do, but that’s not what you need. If it was anyone else—but it is about you, the most important person to me—I need more time to work through it.”
“Okay, take the time,” she said, trying to read hope into his need. At least he wasn’t packing his bags, or telling her to pack hers. “But for now, we’re good, right? No more babysitters, separate sleeping arrangements, mental institutions . . .”
He laughed at her insistence about calling Keene’s retreat an institution.
“No more drunken binges for sure.”
“Last night—after we—I got mad when I thought you got drunk because you didn’t want to come home to me, but it was because you felt guilty about your decision to commit me, isn’t it?”
“No! For the last time, it isn’t a mental institution, Rhees,” he huffed, exasperated. “I felt guilty for nawt wanting to send you away.” He paused.
“Even though I know it’s what you need, I don’t want to lose you. I’m just that selfish!”
She tried to hug him, but he grabbed her hands to stop her. She stared at him for a long minute wondering how they’d gone from warm and cuddly, to the cold shoulder again.
“What’s wrong? You afraid you might accidentally make love to me again?”
He deadpanned.
“No.” He sighed. His inflection rose at the end, making him sound unsure, so he just admitted it. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
The look she gave him made him think of a sad puppy and he started to hate this conversation.
Wet Part 3 Page 36