Shame

by Fiona Cole

  “That fucking hurt, Kevin,” she said, glowering at me. Behind it I saw the glimmer of pleasure, the truth that she enjoyed it.

  “And you fucking loved it.” She didn’t respond, but lifted her head and pressed her lips to mine again, soothing the bite, before laying back down. I stared at her, lying out on the blanket for my pleasure, and I needed her to know how much I’d missed her, how much I regretted my actions. She deserved it even if she didn’t want to hear it.

  We’d been dancing around it for months and I tried to respect her wishes not to talk about it, but I had to make her listen. I wanted our relationship to continue and to grow, and to do that, I needed to give her more than a simple apology.

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ve missed you.”

  “Kevin—” she started, trying to roll out from under me, but I held firm.

  “No. Don’t. It weighs on me every day what I did—how it ended. I’m sorry, Anabelle.”

  “I know,” she said looking off to the side.

  “No, you don’t. I lost my best friend that day and I deserved to, but it didn’t make it any easier. I wanted to find you every day and tried to obey your wishes to leave you alone. But I looked anyway. I always knew I needed you in my life, but I don’t think I really knew how much until you were gone.”

  “Apparently, you didn’t realize a lot of things until I left,” she muttered, reaching for her shorts to put them on.

  “What?”

  She shoved my shoulder and sat up. “Your last text, Kevin. How could you?”

  I love you.

  I’d told her I loved her because I wanted her to know. I never knew if she saw it or what she thought about it, and I’d been too scared to ask. Apparently, I was about to find out.

  “Three years and you say I love you as a goodbye? When I’m walking away? When you’ve already crushed me? That was the time? Did you even mean it, or were you trying to hurt me more?” She ran her hands through her hair before throwing them out to her sides. “I heard your apology Kevin. We were kids and you were drunk and dumb. I forgave you. But the message. That’s what hurt the most. That was the hardest part to move past. That was the argument I was trying to avoid. Because that message was sent when you were completely sober, and somehow you still thought it was the right thing to do. Really hammer the nail in the coffin.”

  Her words knocked the wind out of my chest. I had no idea. I just wanted her to know how much she meant to me. I had no idea that that was how she took it. Fuck. Fuck, I’d fucked up. I never thought she would think I didn’t mean it. Hell, I still meant it. “Ana, of course I—”

  “No,” she swiped her hand through the air and moved to stand. “Just no. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I don’t need this too. I’m tired,” she cried, “and I can’t take on any more.”

  I stood and reached my arms out to her as she backed away, pleading with her. “Let me help you. Let me take care of you.”

  “Don’t you get it?” She dug both hands in her hair and tugged. “I shouldn’t want someone to take care of me. I’m an independent woman. I shouldn’t need someone to take care of me and make decisions for me. It’s not right.”

  “Of course you’re an independent woman. And you don’t need anyone to take care of you. You’re fine all on your own. But it’s okay to want it.”

  “Is it okay to feel such pleasure when a man picks out my clothes?” she asked, mockingly. “Will I be the best example to my students if I tell them how I let a man pick my food, my clothes, my drinks?”

  “Ana, you don’t owe anyone an explanation for your pleasure.”

  “No, but I have to live with the fact that I’m a weak doormat.”

  “You are not a doormat.”

  “When I take a step back from myself and look on, that’s what I see.”

  The defeated look on her face broke me. I knew that look. I saw it every day in the mirror in high school. I still saw it every once in a while.

  Shame.

  She felt shame for who she was, and I wanted to scream at her at how wrong she was. “Anabelle, there is nothing wrong with you.”

  She shook her head and stared at her feet. “It’s not who I want to be—not who I should be.”

  Seeing her slouched shoulders, I stepped forward to comfort her, to help her and hold her together, but she held up her hand and looked at me with tired eyes.

  “Stop. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m tired, Kevin. Goodnight.”

  My feet remained planted in the sand as she turned and walked away into the night.

  My heart urged me to run and chase her down. To make her see that she could be whoever she wanted to be, but my brain knew she needed space. I was just worried about how much space she would take.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ana

  The drive home was long and filled with mostly silence. My mom rode with Kevin’s parents and I rode with Kevin. We tried to talk and make jokes, talk about how the last few weeks of school would go, but the words were short and felt forced. We ended up settling on silence for the most part. When we got to my place, he helped me carry my bags to my door and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to mine, linking our pinkies together. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before walking away. I turned and opened my door so he couldn’t see the tears sliding down my cheeks.

  I went in and took a bath before indulging in a full pint of Talenti, letting the past swallow me whole. The last few days had been so amazing, watching my mom relax, smile, and get color on her too-pale cheeks. It had me forgetting why giving in to Kevin was wrong.

  Our argument had reminded me.

  I hadn’t even known what I was saying as the words flew from my lips. I knew I’d hurt him, but I didn’t know how to take it back. Or if I wanted to.

  I trusted Kevin, but his past actions still lingered and mixed with my feelings about him.

  We didn’t talk for the rest of the week. Or at least I didn’t. He’d tried by calling and texting me, trying to invite me out for lunches or dinners, but I was too much of a chicken-shit to agree. I didn’t want to struggle through the conversations and find that we couldn’t make our way back. I didn’t want to face the crumbling of our friendship. So, I avoided it.

  I didn’t want to deal with the guilt of not telling him that I was going to a bed and breakfast with Andrew. He’d be mad and I didn’t want to hurt him. This was a different kind of guilt. Much bigger than anything I felt when I had to tell Andrew about my weekend with Kevin and his family.

  I brushed the feeling aside, knowing I needed to give Andrew a chance. I packed my bags with a clean slate and remembered Kevin’s words that I owed nothing to anyone but myself. I’d made promises to no one.

  I greeted Andrew with a smile and tried to feel the excitement I knew I should’ve felt. He was playful and kept dropping hints about where we were going or what we were doing. I loved surprises and it warmed me that he was giving me one. He knew me. Maybe not as much as Kevin, but we could learn more about each other. It could be a great relationship. A normal relationship.

  But would he know everything about you? Would he learn about all the ways you needed to be pleased?

  No, because I didn’t want to need those, and they would pass, eventually. He wouldn’t need to know that. No one would.

  We pulled up to a wooded area late at night, making it hard to see everything. When we rounded a corner, a large modern log cabin came into view. The street lamps placed throughout the property gave glimpses of smaller cabins off to the side of a multilevel, log cabin hotel.

  Andrew was smiling at me when I was able to pry my face from the car window.

  “You’re like an excited kid,” he said, laughing.

  “I am excited. This place looks amazing!”

  “Let me get us checked-in, and they’ll assign us a cabin.”

  “A cabin?” I squealed.

  He laughed and leaned in to
press his lips to mine before we got out to check in.

  We had dinner at the main villa, where we talked so late that we shut the restaurant down. Once back to our cabin, I grabbed my pajamas and changed in the luxurious bathroom. I came out to find Andrew lying in bed, the covers pulled to his waist, leaving his chest bare to my view.

  I had to fight back a laugh as I stood there taking in his sculpted chest, realizing that we’d been seeing each other for four months, yet I’d never seen him in anything but regular clothes, and here I was about to sleep next to him.

  “I can sleep on the couch if you want,” he said when he saw me hesitate.

  “No. No.” I said. “It’s okay.”

  “I have sleep pants on if that helps,” he said teasingly.

  I laughed and climbed in beside him. “I guess I just realized how big a jump this trip is.”

  “Is that a problem?” He didn’t sound upset, just curious.

  “No. I want this. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “Good.” He lifted his arm indicating I should curl up with him, and kissed my head once I was settled. His skin warmed my cheek and his arm made me feel safe, comfortable. I waited for a spark, a desire for more, but it never came. In fact, sleep claimed me before anything else could.

  “I have a surprise when we get back to the room.” Andrew smiled at me across the breakfast table in the main cabin overlooking the lake. The place truly was gorgeous.

  “Oh yeah? Will I love it?”

  “If you start out depressed, everything is a pleasant surprise,” he quoted John Cusack from Say Anything.

  I laughed. “Well, then I will lower my expectations now.”

  We finished our breakfast and mimosas, then walked back to our cabin hand in hand. It was nice. When I shivered from the chill in the morning air, he wrapped his arm around me and held me close.

  Entering the cabin, he turned to me and said, “Change into your workout clothes.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “Okaaaay.”

  I changed like he’d said and came out to find Andrew waiting for me, wearing basketball shorts and no shirt.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on yet?”

  He took in my outfit, scanning from my bare toes, up my leggings, and rested longer on the cropped workout tank that bared my stomach. I liked it. For the first time since we’d arrived, I felt a hitch in my chest at having him look at me with a heated stare.

  “Like what you see?” I teased with a twirl.

  “Hell, yes, I do. You’re beautiful. I can’t wait to see you get all bendy,” he said, walking toward me. I raised my eyebrows and he finally explained. “The resort has a couple’s yoga instructor who’ll come to our suite. I thought it would be fun to do.”

  I knew myself well enough to know my face didn’t hide my emotions well, and watching his face scrunch up as he took in my wide eyes and forced smile, I knew I was fooling no one when I forced out a paltry, “Yay.”

  “You don’t like yoga, do you?” he asked, crestfallen.

  I hated that I was bursting his bubble, and I gave lying another shot. “It’s . . . It’s okay.” My voice came out a little manic and high pitched.

  “Shit.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. Just don’t laugh at me.”

  “I would never laugh at you.” He leaned in to peck my forehead. “Would it make it better to know I’ve never done yoga? We can ride the struggle bus together.”

  “Oh boy. That does make it better,” I giggled.

  “See, already laughing at me.”

  I pinched my lips between my teeth and pretended I was zipping them up. When there was a knock at the door he looked at me with serious eyes. “Let’s do this.”

  “That had to be the worst experience of my life,” Andrew announced, still lying on the floor from where he’d fallen a few minutes ago, out of a pose the instructor called “the crane.”

  I sat next to him and brushed his hair out of his face. “I have to say, it might have been one of the best of mine. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard.”

  “Yeah, you really failed at holding back your laughter.”

  “So did you.”

  “I laughed at how sassy you were with the instructor. Trying to tell him you were going to remain in corpse pose for the rest of the session when we were only five minutes in.”

  “I just wanted to stick with what I was good at,” I said, defending myself.

  “I don’t think he found you funny.”

  “Well, as long as you did, I’m good.”

  “I thought you were the best part of the hour,” he said, brushing the hair back from my brow. “How about we shower and do a wine tasting.”

  Squealing, I clapped my hands like a little girl. “Now, wine is a surprise I can get behind.”

  After peeling ourselves off the floor, we each took a shower and went on a wine tour. We may or may not have snuck some extra samples when we could and had two more bottles at dinner afterward. Needless to say, by the time we reached the door of our cabin, the world was spinning for both of us.

  He let me in first and the click of the door behind me seemed too loud in the silence of the room. I turned and met his eyes, glowing in the low-light from the lamp on the entryway table. For a split-second I compared them to how Kevin’s chocolate ones looked black in such dim light, unlike Andrew’s blue, which shined. Shaking my head, I pushed Kevin from my thoughts, reminding myself I took this trip to give my relationship with Andrew a fair chance.

  Licking my lips, I backed away, watching him follow, until I felt the bed hit the back of my thighs. When he reached me, he slipped his hands around my waist and pressed himself against me. My heart pounded, this was the moment that would change everything. I wondered if he could feel my heart against his chest.

  He pressed his lips to my neck first. I closed my eyes, trying to fan the flame of any feelings inside me. Where was the heat, the desire to lie back and let him take me? Where was the spark of passion between my legs? My breath panted from between my lips and my chest squeezed tighter with each kiss trailing down my neck, but it felt wrong.

  The room spun when I opened my eyes, but not from the wine. I tried to focus, but saw Kevin’s face flash before my eyes. I squeezed them shut and gripped Andrew’s cheeks in my hands, pulling him up to kiss me.

  I attacked his mouth and swallowed his moan. I was never the aggressor but something inside me chanted go, go, go like it was outrunning the truth trailing behind it. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I fell back on the mattress, taking him with me. Spreading my legs, thrusting my hips to rub against him. He took some initiative and skimmed his hand under my shirt, cupping my breast, lightly circling my nipple under the lacy bra. I cried out. It wasn’t in pleasure, but in panic.

  Fighting it back, I pushed myself to want this. To want the man lying on top of me, cherishing me and treating me like a lady. I tried to find the desire for the man who made me laugh and promised a bright, normal future. I wanted to want this night that wouldn’t end in bruises and red marks that would need to be explained. I liked Andrew and I wanted to want him, but when his hand started pushing under my leggings, my body screamed at me to stop.

  “Wait, wait,” I gasped, pushing his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.” To my utter embarrassment, tears burned the backs of my eyes, trailing down my temples.

  “Ana, shh,” he said, trying to soothe me. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

  He was too good, too sweet. And my chest hurt because I was ready and I did want him. God, I wanted him and it killed me that I couldn’t force my body to catch up to my brain and let it happen. The angrier I got about it, the harder it was to stop the stupid tears from slipping out, and the more and more the shame built.

  Andrew rolled off me and to my side, pulling me into his chest. I took deep breaths and pressed my cheek to his chest, finding a calm in his arms. No desire, but defi
nitely a haven. I didn’t know how long we lay there, when he finally broke the silence.

  “You know, my mom loved you. Said she could see a strong woman in you.”

  I wanted to laugh. I felt anything but strong. Andrew was such an amazing man, and I just couldn’t grasp why he hadn’t been snatched up yet. “Why are you still single?”

  “Hmmm.” The sounds vibrated against my cheek as he thought over his response. “I’m picky. I wanted a woman I could introduce to my family and someone I could depend on.” He laughed before moving. “I’m sure this makes me a mama’s boy, but I wanted someone like my mom. Not her,” he rushed to assure me, “but I guess, someone who could complete me like she does my dad. I look up to their marriage, and it’s what I want for myself. My mom ran the household. She’s independent and made the decisions so my dad didn’t have to worry when work got overwhelming. She took care of all of us.” I let his words sink in and focused on the soft stroke of his hand up and down my back. “Eventually, I’d love to get into politics, and it’s a demanding job. I’d like to know the woman I’m with is able to be independent without me. The job will be full of big decisions and it will be nice to know I’m coming home to a place I can just turn off and love my family.”

  Each word hammered home how wrong that was for me. But he was so excited, so happy. I wanted to be the woman that he could depend on and brag about.

  What would Kevin get to brag about if I was his? Oh, she listens really well. When I command her to lie still and be my table, she does it. A real doormat.

  I cringed and instead, saw images of Andrew with his arm around me, bragging about how well I take care of him to his friends and coworkers. Sure, my smile was a little forced in that daydream, but the shame was gone. I ignored that and let thoughts of being a good enough woman for Andrew lull me into sleep.

  The next morning, we packed up to get back to campus early. We ordered room service to spend some more alone time together, and I apologized again for the previous night.