by Twyla Turner
Lexi began the painting with a sketch of their hands. When she finished, she mixed the paint and began to create the painting with delicate brushstrokes. As the painting started to come to life, it wrenched at her heart and tears filled her eyes, making it impossible to see the canvas in front of her. How could it all have gone so wrong?
At lunchtime, Sloan again, like the day before, grabbed their lunch from the truck and made his way to the back of the house. It felt like déjà vu of the previous day, but with a very distinct difference. His heart was heavy, and he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. As he rounded the back of the house and Lexi came into view, his heart squeezed painfully.
It was nearly the same as yesterday. She stood in front of her easel, painting. This time she was in a pair of her form-fitting yoga pants and a tank top. Her soft dark cloud of hair pulled back by a scarf. Standing in front of a field of flowers, she took his breath away like before. But, even though, by all appearances, everything looked the same. Sloan knew better.
As he walked towards her, he made sure that he stepped heavily so that she knew he was coming. When she heard his footsteps, he saw her quickly wipe her hands across her face before she turned to look at him. And when their eyes connected, he saw that they were once again puffy and red from crying. It took all he had not to burst into tears, himself. He swallowed several times, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat as he came to a stop a few feet away from her.
“Lunchtime,” Sloan said, and then cleared his clogged throat, hearing the choked sound of the word, around his obstructed vocal cords.
“Alright,” Lexi said, equally gruff.
Sloan saw the canvas, with the painting she was working on. The picture was like another kick to the gut.
“Where would you like to set up camp?” Sloan asked, not sure if going to their spot yesterday, was a good idea.
“I don’t know. I guess here, in the grass is fine.” Lexi shrugged, wanting nothing more than to go to their spot, but fearing that the once welcoming and warm embrace of the tall grass and wildflowers would now feel claustrophobic and oppressive.
Without another word, Sloan found a relatively rock-free spot in the grass. He threw out the blanket, and it billowed out, as he guided the floating material down onto the overgrown grass, perfectly. They took their places on the blanket. The day before they sat in the middle, close to each other, some part of their bodies touching each other at all times. But this time, they sat on opposite corners, as far away as they could get from one another.
They both recognized the difference, and the reality, broke their hearts. But Sloan didn’t want to freak Lexi out by his nearness. And Lexi’s nerves had full control over her, no matter how badly she wanted to be close to him.
They fixed their own plates and ate in silence. Both found it hard to eat past the knot in their throats. And once the food cleared their thick throats, it landed like a brick in their churning stomachs. They were a wreck, with no clue, how to get through their impasse.
Once they were finished, Sloan started to gather up his half-eaten plate to put away before Lexi stopped him.
“I-It’s okay. I can clean up. I got this.” Lexi said, quietly.
Sloan nodded his head sadly, unable to speak and strode away, with shoulders hunched. As if bracing himself to enter into a raging storm. Lexi watched him walk away, with tears clouding her eyes. She sat for a moment, trying to pull herself and her emotions together.
She swiped angrily at her face, at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. Getting to her knees, she slowly put away the remnants of their melancholy lunch. She closed the basket, folded up the blanket and took a ragged breath before walking back to her easel to finish painting one of the last cherished moments they’d had. The painting, a reminder of what had been lost.
Chapter 2
Say Something
Lexi and Sloan stood a few feet apart in the waiting room of the animal hospital when Tank came barreling out of the back room. A leash trailed behind him, and a contrite and out of breath veterinary assistant, came running behind him. The big black German Sheppard ran full speed at Sloan. Anyone else would’ve run screaming in the other direction, if the scary, wolf-like dog charged them, but Sloan squatted down and greeted Tank, with open arms. The dog tackled him to the ground and proceeded to initiate a full-scale assault on Sloan’s face, licking him within an inch of his life. Sloan’s scarred face finally broke into a beautiful smile as he tried to dodge the slobbery attack.
Sloan struggled to sit up and chuckled deeply, as Tank wiggled and squirmed against him, as if the dog couldn’t get close enough to him. And Lexi giggled at the two of them. The sweet reunion eased the tension slightly.
Hearing Lexi’s laughter, Tank made his way over to her, to give her some love as well. He wagged his tail happily as she stroked his fur. She looked up, as Sloan stood. Their eyes connected, and the love, guilt, fear and sadness passed between them, bringing the tension hurtling back to the forefront. And she sighed deeply, in frustration.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Sloan said to the assistant.
“No problem. He was a pleasure to have around, and so well behaved.” The girl said with a bright smile. “Bye, Tank.”
The big dog trotted over to her and licked her hand, before walking over to the door. He looked back at them, as he wagged his tail, ready to go home. Sloan quickly wrote out a check for Tank’s vet bill, and they headed out to the truck.
On the way home, Tank took turns licking and nuzzling, both Sloan and Lexi. It was obvious he was glad to be reunited with them, but it also seemed as if he could sense the tension in the two humans, and he was trying to bridge the gap. They both knew that it was going to take way more than a sweet dog, to repair the damage to their relationship.
Once they got home, Lexi fixed dinner for them, and like lunch, they ate in silence. Sloan was withdrawn, and Lexi was at a loss, as to how to go about getting back to where they once were. And after they were finished pushing their food around their plates, pretending to eat, Sloan cleared the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher and washed the pots and pans.
“Alright. I think I’m gonna turn in early. I’m pretty beat.” Sloan said, leaning against the sink after he was done cleaning the kitchen, unable to look Lexi in the eye.
“Yeah, me too,” she responded sadly.
She watched Sloan push off the sink and walk towards the spare bedroom. Tank followed close behind him. At the door, he turned to look at her. His silvery blue eyes filled with turmoil.
“Goodnight.” He said, quietly.
“Night.”
The moment the door closed behind him, tears quietly slipped down Lexi’s cheeks. She blindly made her way up the stairs. Unable to do much else in her depression, Lexi fell across her bed fully clothed, and once again cried herself to sleep.
~~~
The next few weekends followed the same depressing path. Sloan found more solace in working on the mansion by himself, than being at home with Lexi. The tension between them, continued to grow. Sloan could tell that she was getting frustrated with him, but he couldn’t help the constant guilt that dogged his every step. When he looked at her, all he could see was her terrified face as he choked her.
The minute the insurance agent was finished assessing the damage, Sloan hightailed it out of the house, that Saturday morning to spend the day working alone. He didn’t come home until it was late, and he was too tired to do more than make a quick sandwich, and fall into bed. He did the same on Sunday, and for the rest of the week. He had Kevin come and pick him up early and they headed over to the big house before Lexi even got out of bed.
Lexi knew that the guilt was eating away at Sloan, but it didn’t stop the bone-aching hurt that she felt every time she woke up and he was gone. Or when she couldn’t stay up any longer, waiting for him to get home. Her need for him was beginning to outweigh her fear of him or his PTSD. The pain of his avoidance was becoming such a diffi
cult burden to bear, her need to cut was getting stronger by the day.
Her only escapes were her painting and sketches. She painted more and did more charcoal sketches in one week than she ever had. And luckily, Sloan left Tank with her most days, otherwise, she would’ve gone crazy in her solitude.
The only break in their separation was the day after Lexi received her check, from her insurance company. Sloan came home from work early in the afternoon to take her car shopping. Lexi didn’t have it in her to buy another vintage Mustang. It hurt her too much to think of replacing her Aunt Betty’s prized car, so instead, she bought a small, used SUV, that could easily transport her easel when she wanted to paint somewhere other than the house.
During their time together at the dealership, Lexi tried to get Sloan to talk to her. She even tried to reach out with shaky fingers and sweaty palms, to hold his hand, but he instantly pulled away from her. He also shut down when she tried to talk to him. Other than bargaining with the car salesman, Sloan didn’t say much to her. Once she paid for the car in full and was handed the keys, Sloan told her that he was heading back to work on the house, for the evening.
Lexi drove home with a heavy heart, and a plan formulating in her head.
~~~
Lexi sat in the sitting room of her bedroom that night. A few hours before, she had drunk a five-hour energy drink, to ensure that she didn’t fall asleep while waiting for Sloan to come home. Hopped up on the powerful drink, she fidgeted on the green chaise lounge. But unable to sit still, she got up and paced around the room. She walked to the large dome-shaped window and looked out to see if she saw Sloan’s truck, and with no sign of him she then paced across the room and back again.
She sat down on the lounge again, when she heard the low hum of an engine. Jumping up, she sped over to the window and saw Sloan’s truck pulling into the driveway. She walked over to the door and listened closely, for the sounds of him walking in.
Lexi’s heart pounded in her ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything else. Then she finally heard him walk through the door, closed and locked it, and set the alarm. She tracked his footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen. And her stomach did little somersaults, as she opened the bedroom door and headed down the hall to the stairs.
Her bare feet padded down the stairs, and towards the kitchen. When she reached the kitchen, Sloan’s back was to her, as he loaded the microwave with a plate of leftovers, she had made for him. And taking a final breath to calm her roiling stomach, and squeezing her trembling sweaty hands into fists, Lexi drew strength from somewhere deep inside her.
“Sloan.” She said, softly.
Not expecting her to be awake, Sloan whirled around in surprise. In the unguarded moment, Lexi could see the strain on his face, from the last week. His eyes had dark circles, from lack of sleep. His beard was overgrown and lines of stress, where etched deep into his face.
“Alexis, what are you doing up so late?” Sloan asked, sternly.
“I wanted to see you,” Lexi said shyly, seeing that it wasn’t going to be easy to wear him down. “And since you keep avoiding me, I figured I’d stay up late, to try to catch you.”
“Go to bed, Lexi,” Sloan said, turning to open the microwave.
Choking down every ounce of fear and doubt coursing through her. Lexi untied the belt to the silk robe she had purchased earlier in the day and let the cool delicate material slide off of her naked form, to pool at her feet. And as he turned to look at her, she stood before him, completely bare and vulnerable.
Sloan froze at the vision she made before him. His eyes were riveted to her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her green eyes that used to be guarded and secretive were open and exposed, letting him see straight into the heart of her. He knew that she wanted him, despite her fear. That she was willing to go against her instincts to cower in fear, in order to get back what they had before.
Her hair was a soft dark cloud of curls, framing her gorgeous face. Her breasts heaved up and down, as she breathed harshly in fear and arousal. Her hands were balled up into tiny fists, at her sides. And her entire body trembled.
“What are you doing?” Sloan asked, already knowing the answer.
Instead of answering back, Lexi walked towards him on shaky legs. Sloan stepped back but came up short when the counter stopped his escape. She continued to come closer to him and stopped when she was within a few inches of touch him.
Sloan knew all he had to do was reach out, and he’d be able to touch her amazingly smooth bronze skin, but instead he clutched the counter behind him. He watched silently, as Lexi reached out and unbuckled his belt, and unfastened his jeans.
“Alexis…” He said, in warning.
“Please.” The word trembled on her lips, as she reached her hand inside his pants.
Lexi’s quivering hand wrapped around his already rock hard erection and he grit his teeth in agony. He wanted nothing more than to lift her up into his arms, and drive into her until he didn’t know which way was up. But his fear of touching her, of hurting her was too much, to give in to his need.
He closed his eyes, against the pleading look on her stunning face. But he realized his mistake too late. With his eyes closed, he wasn’t expecting the flick of her tongue against the tip of his cock. He gasped, and his eyes flew open. He looked down at her, as she took him in her mouth. And he groaned deep in the back of his throat, knowing that he would no longer be able to control his need for her.
Reluctantly pulling away from her, he grabbed her under her arms and tossed her up onto the kitchen island. He grasped her knees and spread her thick thighs apart. Positioning himself at her wet entrance, Sloan held her gaze as he slammed into her welcoming heat.
“Sloan!” Lexi screamed his name.
The sound hurtled him back to his last nightmare, where he heard her cry out, as he and Vick ran through the streets of the Afghan city. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, trying to block out the memory of the horrible dream, as he thrust into her pliant flesh. Holding on to her shoulders, he pulled her towards him as he pushed forward. He bent down and took a hardened nipple into his mouth, and he sucked hard.
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from being rough with her. It felt almost like he wanted to fuck the guilt and anger towards himself, out on her. As if she could exercise the demons out of him. And he felt her orgasm ripple over his hard length, yet he continued to force her take more, he was so blind with delirium.
He looked down at her, and instead of seeing her as she was, draped across the island, he saw her as she was, the night he nearly choked her to death. In his mind, her eyes were filled with fear, as tears streamed down her face. And unable to take it, he pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach, and entered her from behind so he couldn’t see her face.
Holding her down against the counter with light pressure, he pumped into her. He tried to focus on the feel of her surrounding him. On the rippling of her flesh as he stroked deep and hard into her. But the two images kept alternating in his mind. The image of her dead on the ground and of him choking her. And he felt like he was going crazy.
“I can’t. I can’t.” Sloan cried, as he pulled out of her quivering passage.
He quickly pulled his pants up, and fled to his temporary bedroom, where he slammed the door and locked it. His chest heaved, as he pressed his back to the door, and slowly slid down to the floor. Propping his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands, and his fingers gripped his hair painfully. And he choked on excruciating sobs that ripped through his chest and throat.
In the kitchen, Lexi slowly pulled herself off the counter, unsure how she felt about the whole sexual encounter. She had climaxed but at the expense of his sanity. And his angry and aggressive handling of her, had terrified her as well. She had no idea if he would strike out at her at any time.
She walked over to her discarded robe, on wobbly legs and reached down to pick it up. She slid her arms in
to the sleeves and wrapped the robe around her tightly as if it could hold together her emotions that were crumbling into pieces. She walked quietly to his door and heard the sorrowful sobs of a broken man. Tears trembled at the edge of her eyelids, and she pressed her hands and forehead against the door, praying that he could sense her through it.
“I’m so, sorry.” She whispered, as her tears slipped down her face to her lips, tasting the salt on her tongue.
She pushed away from the door and walked dejectedly up to her room, where she had another restless and tearful night.
Chapter 3
Stay
Lexi woke up with a splitting headache, after another sleepless night and heart-wrenching sobs. Not even sure she was ready to face the day, she pulled herself out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face, to soothe the puffiness of her swollen eyes. She quickly brushed her teeth and fluffed out her afro, before she walked to her closet to pull on some palazzo pants and a tank top, her go-to ensemble.
Lexi opened the door and was surprised when Tank wasn’t there to greet her like he often did when Sloan would leave early. A feeling of foreboding came over her, as she made her way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, to make some coffee. The house was completely silent as usual, so she knew that Sloan had already left. It’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t even know what to say to him right now.
She walked into the kitchen, and she saw the vision of them together, as they were the night before. The visuals of angry, desperate sex, nearly blinded her to the items, sitting on the island. Stepping closer to the counter, Lexi saw that on the island was a note with her name written on the top, and a key that looked an awful lot like her house key. With trembling fingers, she reached out to grab the note. She opened the letter and started to read it. Though she had no idea how she comprehended any of it, because it trembled like a leaf in her shaking hands, and her tear-filled eyes nearly blinded her to the words on the paper. But at the same time, the words practically jumped off of the page, at her.