Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  Everything.

  My present.

  My future.

  Myself.

  The cheer from a score boomed around the field, and I knocked a glass from the end table beside me. A waiter picked it up with a smile as I counted to twenty and inhaled deeply again. The umpire called the end of a chukka, and almost instantly, chatting voices carried away with the breeze.

  Open your eyes, Hannah. Damn it, just open and do your thing.

  Holding my breath, I looked across the field to where Eric was with his teammates, waiting for the game to resume. He was staring at me, his expression concerned. He was probably wondering why I wasn’t watching his game. Watching him.

  Then it hit me. He was insecure. Incredibly insecure. That was where his jealousy came from. I hadn’t noticed that until now.

  His eyes flickered to my side, distant enough that I knew he wasn’t looking at anyone inside the VIP area. Three seconds later, his gaze was on me again, hard and dubious. Damn, he couldn’t have put two and two together just like that, could he?

  With gritted teeth, Eric returned to the game. The change in his game from one chukka to the next was noticeable. He always had a hint of aggression and competitiveness, but he had transformed into an animal. He threw his pony over the players from the other team, making them stray from their paths. He stole the ball by linking his mallet to his adversary’s mallet and pushing it out of the way. He was just short of hitting them in the face with his mallet. All master moves too, because the umpires never saw any of it. He argued about every fault, every move, every point.

  And I watched him as if I were seeing him for the first time.

  No, but it wasn’t the first time. This attitude had been there all along. I’d just been purposefully blind to it. He always argued during games, he was always aggressive, but I always put a cover over it and pretended it was his game plan. Moreover, I’d seen him losing it before, not long ago.

  I shuddered, remembering that awful day. He had totally freaked me out.

  I considered leaving the club. Getting up and leaving. But I knew that would only anger him more. Instead, I remained seated, quiet, my eyes on him.

  Until Megan spoke again. “So, Leonardo kissed me.”

  My heart stopped. “What?”

  “He did,” she said, her smile from ear to ear. “We didn’t go further, but ohmygosh, kissing him was heaven.”

  My stomach twisted into knots. “Oh, I thought your plan was to take him to bed.”

  “It was, but well, he didn’t make any moves, and for some reason, I didn’t want to push him. Maybe it’s best. I mean, this could become serious and I don’t want to be the easy girl, you know.”

  I nodded, feeling too sick to reply.

  She launched into a detailed description of the rest of her night. How they walked around the tennis courts, how they held hands, how he pulled her to him, how he took the lead and kissed her.

  Oh, Lord, I wanted to run now more than ever.

  Instead, I held my ground, pressed my lips together, and kept my eyes on Eric until the game ended. The Knight House won, and I hoped it helped in abating his anger.

  After greeting everyone who came toward him with a smile, which was a good sign, Eric came to me, took my hand, and led me out of the VIP area and away from the field. He was quiet and his grip tight.

  “Congratulations,” I said.

  He didn’t reply.

  With rigid moves, he opened the door of his car for me, and then closed it once I slipped inside. He slid into the driver’s side and drove out of the club, in silence.

  “Eric, if you don’t mind, I want to go home. It’s the middle of the week, and I have tons of stuff to do.”

  His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. My heart beat faster, concerned he would drag me to his house and ignore my wishes. Surprising me, he took the road that led to the ranch and I relaxed. Now I just had to put my plan into action.

  By the time we got to the ranch, the sun was beginning its slow descent and the colors, green from the grass, blue from the sky, yellow and pink from the flowers, and red from the barn, looked more vibrant because of the sun’s orange glow.

  We walked to the house in silence. I glanced to the barn, and noticed that Jimmy and Paul were already gone.

  When I closed the front door behind us, Eric turned to me with fresh anger in his eyes.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, taking a step back.

  “That Latin scum, he was eating you with his eyes. What is going on?”

  “Eric, what are you talking about?”

  “You know!” he shouted, clenching his fists at his sides. “Leonardo Fernandes has been staring at you, nonstop, since the day he set foot in the club. Only a blind person wouldn’t see it.”

  “But you saw it last night, Megan and him together. She said they kissed,” I told him, and I saw the surprise flash through his eyes for a second.

  “No, no,” he hissed. “The way he was looking at you today. No. He’s playing with Megan. Or he’s trying to make you jealous.”

  If that was the case, Leo was succeeding, but I kept that to myself and played my part. “What? Eric, that’s nonsense.”

  He towered over me, the shine in his eyes menacing. “Is it? Because he looks at you like he loves you, and how can you love someone if you don’t know them?”

  “Eric,” I muttered. My mind raced as fast as my heart, trying to find a good answer. What could I say that would calm him down? “Seriously, he was probably looking at Megan, not me.”

  Shaking his head, Eric held my upper arms glued against my sides. “Oh, baby, how innocent you are.” I didn’t want to have him freak out, I didn’t want to anger him more, so I didn’t jerk or try to wiggle free from his grasp. I did step back, though, but hit my back against the stair railing. I felt the corner of the console table against the wall brushing my leg. His body came against me, his face a couple of inches from mine. “Each time I see that Latin scum looking at you, I want to jump at his throat and strangle him.” He said it in a low, deep voice, and with a shine in his eyes, as if he would have enjoyed it.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

  His fingers sunk into my skin, and I suppressed a whimper. “You’re mine, Hannah, and only mine. Nobody, no other man will lay hands on you. You hear me?” He pressed his mouth to my ear. “You’re mine.”

  He licked the flesh under my ear and made his way down my neck, to my shoulder. My eyes watered, and I turned my head away from his. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to shake the shock from my system, but it felt like my movements were in slow motion, too drugged and confused to act normal.

  When he thrust his hips against mine and I felt how hard he was, I shoved him back.

  “Stop it,” I said, my tone brusque. How could he be turned on when we were fighting?

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re … not yourself, and I’m not gonna let you touch me when you’re like this.”

  He growled and pushed at me again, but this time he didn’t stop by pinning my body with his or holding down my arms. No. This time, he raised his hand and punched the console table. I stepped out of the way as the table fell on the floor. A lamp, picture frames, and the glass decorations broke, spreading pieces and scraps all over the floor.

  Eric kicked the broken pieces out of the way and stood before me, his expression murderous. Fear crawled up my spine as I realized Eric was turning not only obsessively jealous, but also violent.

  “You’re being a bad girl, baby,” he said, pinning my wrist on the wall, right beside my head. “A very bad girl. And bad girls have to be punished.” He leaned closer, and his eyes held a new light, an excited and crazy light. “You should behave, baby.”

  “Eric, let me go.” I struggled against him. “Let me go!”

  “Hannah, behave.”

  “Let me go. Now!”

  Eric probably saw the desperation in
me. He released me and stepped back. He paced the living room for several minutes, and I wondered what would happen next.

  Surprising me, he came to stand by me, the anger gone from his eyes.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. “Please, baby. Try to understand.” I didn’t dare to speak, because I would probably yell at him and he would be angry again. “I can’t stand it when men look at you like that. I just … I lose it.”

  He knelt before me and hugged my legs, his face against my thighs. And he cried. I could hear his sobs, but it was hard to believe.

  My first instinct was to kick him and dash away. I wasn’t that kind of person though. I was the kind of person who tried to see the best in everyone, and that included Eric. And, when he could control his freak outs and jealousy attacks, Eric was a great man. He was kind and caring, he was a great polo player, he took care of his mother, he managed his father’s business, and he took good care of me and loved me. There was more good than bad in him.

  I looked down at him. If I were in his situation, where I couldn’t control my temper, I would probably want help from loved ones, even if I never admitted it out loud. How could I turn my back on him now? Besides, I knew this was hard for him. He didn’t like confessing he had weaknesses even to himself, and now I was seeing them too.

  He needed professional help, but knowing him, I knew he wouldn’t accept it easily. I had to be here for him, to show him he needed to seek aid, and then take him there. Small steps. Always small steps.

  I touched his shoulders and urged him to stand.

  He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and stared at me, with big wary eyes.

  “Please forgive me?”

  Nodding, I pulled him into an embrace. “I forgive you.”

  He sighed into my hair and held me tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I woke up to a beautiful breakfast table, with a huge bouquet of pink roses and an I’m-sorry card. Eric did all he could to compensate for the previous evening. He pulled out my chair for me, he served my food, he cleaned the kitchen, and he even made coffee.

  After breakfast, we stopped by the hospital to see my father. As expected, he was still unconscious, and my mother was still seated in the same armchair I had last seen her. Hilary came a lot, but didn’t stay every minute of every hour like my mother did.

  Eric and I had lunch at a fancy restaurant downtown. This new loving Eric was kind of fun, but I had to hold my tongue several times. I wanted to talk to him about his problem, but I knew that he was focused on the tournament and I would ruin it if I brought up that subject now. I had to stay by his side and wait until the tournament was over.

  Around two in the afternoon, Eric drove us to the club for his next game.

  Again, I sat in the VIP area while Eric went to meet with his teammates. I struggled against my good sense and lost. I scanned the area, but didn’t see Leo anywhere. In fact, I didn’t see any of his family members yet.

  That was … strange.

  Megan showed up with Blaire and Andrea. They sat beside me and included me in their gossip about the newest divorce—a known couple in the club. I pretended to care, so as not to be rude, but I couldn’t look at Megan and not think of Leo. Crap, I would be sick if they were actually going out together.

  In the first ten minutes of the game, Eric scored two goals, showing everyone this would be an easy match.

  After the game, he took me to his house to celebrate. He opened a bottle of champagne and we had a nice dinner with his mother. As usual, she excused herself right after dessert and went to her bedroom.

  And Eric took me to his.

  He closed the door and turned to me, pulling me to him and kissing me.

  Since my big revelation, I felt so bad for kissing him. I tried remembering I still loved him, because even if I wasn’t in love with him, I did love him. He was a big part of my life, always would be. And because of his problems, I could see he would be for a long time, because I couldn’t just drop him like that. It wasn’t right. I wouldn’t want someone I loved dropping me when I needed him the most.

  But, as much as kissing was tolerable, I couldn’t go further.

  He started working on my dress’s zipper, and I pushed him away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I walked to the other side of the bed. “I can’t.”

  He looked at me as if I were speaking Mandarin. “What?”

  “I can’t, Eric.”

  He put a knee over the bed. “I don’t understand.” I groaned. Please, I didn’t want to spell it out. Instead, I shook my head. “What’s the matter, baby? Why not?” I sighed. At least he had understood my message. Again, I didn’t say anything. “Talk to me, baby.”

  I sat on the bed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood. With everything that is going on—”

  “Was,” he said. “Everything that was going on. I told you, baby. I’m working on it. I’ll be better from now on.”

  “I know, but I can’t simply close my eyes and pretend nothing happened. I’m sorry.” I traced the pattern of the comforter with my finger. “I don’t mean to upset you but I can’t. I need more time.”

  He sat on his side of the bed. “You said you forgave me.”

  “I did. I forgave you, but that doesn’t mean I forgot.”

  He reached across the bed and touched my hand. “I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for you to distrust me. I’m so sorry. I’ll fix this, baby.”

  I turned my hand to his and let him weaved his fingers with mine. “I know.”

  He offered me a hopeful smile. “Will you let me hold you tonight, at least?”

  I didn’t want to hesitate, but I did. My first thought was to say no, but after all I had mulled over the last twenty-four hours, I couldn’t say no.

  I nodded.

  ***

  Sunday morning, I put on jeans, a checkered shirt, and my red boots, and went to the stable with a few special treats. Thank goodness, there weren’t any riding groups scheduled until two in the afternoon, which gave me a Jimmy-free environment until at least noon.

  Keeping my mind blank, I fed the horses. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t stop thinking about Eric and his strange behavior and what I would do about it.

  I hadn't seen him since yesterday morning, when he drove me here from his house, saying he was going to spend the day at the club, watching the matches and socializing with other players and teams. He didn’t even invite me to go with him, and I thought that was because I had been tense while he held me in bed. I was sure he felt it.

  I shook my head. How? How had our relationship taken a turn for the worst, and why couldn’t I seem to find the right route?

  Eric had a big game this afternoon—I remembered that much—and it kind of hurt that he didn’t invite me to go with him.

  Sighing, I turned to the stall I had left for last.

  Argus was in the corner of his stall, his body curled as much as a long, powerful horse's body could, his head down, but his ears alert. He’d been keeping tabs on me since I had come in.

  “Hey, boy,” I whispered. “Want some food?” He didn’t move. Cautiously, I open the door to his stall and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. “I’ve got something for you.”

  He moved his muzzle two inches toward me, so that he could look at me.

  I smiled and showed him my hands, both filled with strawberries. “I know it’s not the usual carrot or apple, but these are my favorite fruit and I hoped you would want to taste them.”

  I took a leap and knelt on the ground. Two seconds later, Argus was on his feet, still in the corner, but on his feet.

  Remembering the night we’d made a little progress—which felt like eons ago—I took a deep breath and waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Ten minutes went by and my extended arms burned.
I sang a Taylor Swift song in my mind, trying to ignore the pain and numbing sensation, because my muscles screamed more and more by the second.

  He turned to face me, his eyes locked on mine, looking like bottomless brown pools. I couldn’t tell what mood he was in, but just the fact that he was staring at me gave me a new burst of energy; I held on.

  A couple more minutes rolled by before he finally gave a step in my direction. I pressed my lips together, lest he see the smile trying to creep out and change his mind.

  Six minutes later, I couldn’t take the pain in my muscles anymore and lowered my arms to my lap.

  Then he walked all the way to me.

  Son of a bit—

  “Hannah.”

  I froze, dropping all the strawberries on the ground. Argus snorted, retreating all the way back into the corner again.

  “Baby, where are you?” Eric asked again, his voice closer. I straightened, peering over the stall door, but remained in place. As if he were the most loving boyfriend in the world, he smiled wide, with Mr. Nash by his side. “There you are.”

  They walked up to me. “Hannah, you remember Mr. Nash, don’t you?”

  Anger pooled in my chest. “What is he doing here?”

  “Hannah, baby, please, be nice to our friend.”

  I gaped. “Friend?”

  Mr. Nash extended his hand to me. “Hello, Miss Taylor. It’s nice to see you again.”

  I ignored his hand. “I can’t say the same.”

  Eric leaned over the stall door and put his hand over my arm. “Mr. Nash is still interested in buying the ranch, you know. You should consider his offer, baby. It’s very generous.”

  His words were like a horse kick in my stomach. “What?”

  “I know you’ll like it.” Eric’s gaze locked on mine, and once more, I was struck by how much I didn’t really know him. “I’ll show him around, okay, baby?”

  He gently squeezed my arm, then turned to Mr. Nash and guided him through the stable, while I stood in the same place, in shock and perfectly still. What the hell was he doing? Hadn’t I told him I would not sell this ranch? I couldn’t understand why he ignored my wishes like that.