by Anne Mercier
"What's that Shakespeare quote? 'Methinks the lady doth protest too much.'"
"Bite me, brother. He made a sex tape! A threesome with Jesse! I'm not supposed to be bothered by that?" I rage.
"I never said that but it was months ago, and it's not like you haven't been getting your fair share of ass," he retorts.
"Yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to fuck someone who's going to make a sex tape so they can leak it for a quick buck and the fast track to fame!" I snap.
"Maybe he wants to talk, explain things. Maybe he just wanted to have coffee. Maybe he wanted to see how you're doing."
"What he wants and what he gets are two different things where I'm concerned." I eye him, and he's got that look, the one that tells me he's hiding something.
"What?" he asks.
"What are you keeping from me? You know I can always tell."
"If you want to know, next time he shows up, and you open the door, try asking him."
"No."
"What've you got to lose, T? Don't you think it's been long enough? It's been what, over two years, right?"
I nod. "Two years, five months, and twenty-three days."
"But who's counting, right?" he quips.
"It doesn't matter if I'm counting or not. It doesn't matter if I want to open that door and kiss his face off. It doesn't matter, Lincoln, and do you know why?"
He shakes his head. "No."
"Because I'm angry and resentful and so not ready to stand in the Falling Down spotlight he's going to want me to be in. Maybe not now, maybe not next month, or even next year, but he's going to want that and I may never be able to give him that. I may be too broken to give him what he needs and that will hurt him worse than my keeping the door closed," I tell him, wiping tears off my cheeks, likely smearing paint.
He pulls me close. "Tera. You know him. You know them. No one would ever ask you to do something you're not ready for. Ever. I'm not sure what his agenda is, why he came by, but I do know that Ethan told me your husband, Xander Thomas Mackenzie is lost without you. They're home from their overseas tour, and he said he needs you more than he needs to breathe. You know that you're his heart, right? That will never change, no matter how hard you push him away or how hard he pushes back. You two are soul mates, and I think you need to start accepting it."
"I don't want to talk to him because, Lincoln, I'm so angry and resentful. I feel like a child, but the feelings are real, and they're rational and just."
"Then you need to get them out. You need to talk to him and them so you can move past where you are right now."
"What's so wrong with where I am right now?" I ask as I grab a paper towel and blow my nose.
"You're stuck. You have nowhere to go. It's the end of the line, baby sister. So it's time to communicate what you're feeling and then explain why. Then, you talk it out and get past it. Don't you think it's time to forgive him? And them?" he asks softly.
I sigh. "I want to. I just don't know how."
"You're a smart girl. You'll figure it out."
I sniffle, looking and feeling pathetic. "Will you go get me some chicken from Sal's?"
"Damn, that sounds good right now. The usual?" he asks.
"Yes, please."
"I'll be back in thirty. Come lock up behind me."
He opens the door and looks down. He steps over it, turns, and meets my gaze.
"He left your coffee."
I bend down and pick it up.
"May as well drink it before it gets cold," Linc tells me as he heads down the stairs. I close the door and relock the deadbolts and chain. I sit down in the rocking chair and stare at the coffee in my hands like it's going to hold the answers to all the secrets of the universe.
I take a sip, and it's still hot. I taste the sweetness of caramel and vanilla and begin to cry in earnest.
Coffee as a peace offering? It's just not enough.
The coffee ends, and instead, he brings me bouquets of flowers—each day a different one. I don't take them from him. I do the same as I did with the coffee. I close the door.
I don't want "gifts." I don't know what it is that I do want, but it's not this.
11
XANDER
"I don't know what to do, dude. She didn't take the coffee. She didn't accept the flowers. How do I get her to talk to me since Kennedy's idea was shit?" I ask Cage. We're on a teleconference, and I can't stay focused enough for this meeting to be productive, so Cage gave up five minutes ago. He was going to hang up, but I need a fresh perspective, so here I am, asking him.
"I don't think she wants 'things', Xander. If I had to guess, I'd say she wants and needs words," Cage replies.
"Words?"
"Yes, words. I'd start with 'I'm sorry' and continue on with 'I love you'," Cage tells me.
"Dude," Jesse says, "that's what you should do. Right there. That's so Tera."
"That might've been nice to know eleven days ago," I tell Jesse.
"I wonder what she did with those flowers," Ben ponders. "You think she put 'em in the garbage disposal and shredded those fuckers?"
I flinch. I hope not.
"Nah," Kennedy replies. "Tera would never destroy flowers. They're too pretty. I bet she painted them."
"I can see that," Jesse agrees.
"So, apologize and then tell her I love her?" That's all? It doesn't seem like enough.
Ethan sighs. "Just speak from the heart, man."
"Alright. I'll try it."
"Call back tomorrow and let me know if you want me to punch Ethan for you," Ben teases.
"I will."
I hang up and sit in the hotel room I've been living in for almost two weeks now, and I hope like hell I can get through to her. I'll keep trying until I can. I'm not going to accept anything less.
12
TERA
There's a knock at the door. Same time every day for the last twelve days. Is he not getting tired of me shutting the door in his face? I don't want coffee, and I don't want flowers—even if they're my favorites.
I unlock and open the door, not hiding the fact I'm annoyed.
"Yes?"
He stands there and just looks at me.
It's unnerving, so I snap at him. "What? No presents today?"
One side of his mouth lifts in that sexy endearing smirk I love. My heart hammers in my chest, and it's getting more difficult with each day to close the door, but I need to.
He thrusts out a hand, stopping me from closing the door, startling me. I look at him in surprise.
"I love you."
He says it in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He means what he says. I'm gaping at him when I move to close the door. He nods and starts down the stairs before it's shut.
I lock up and lean back against the door, staring at… nothing.
"Did that just happen?" I whisper.
"It happened," Linc replies, bringing me a cup of coffee.
"Coffee might not be strong enough," I mutter, and he chuckles.
"He's getting to you."
"He caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting that," I admit. Hearing those words falling from his mouth rendered me stupid. It took me back to what it was like to be loved by him—really loved by him.
"Mhmm," is all Linc says as he walks out of the room.
He's breaking through the wall, hammering at it bit by bit. What he doesn't realize is, behind the wall isn't just love for him, there's a whole lot of ugly, too.
The next morning, he stands there in faded jeans and the Rolling Stones tee I bought for him. His hair is damp, and he hasn't bothered to shave in a couple of days. That scruffy look. Oh boy.
"I'm sorry. For all of it. I love you, Tera."
My breath catches and tears well. I close the door before they fall.
Lincoln watches me as the tears stream down my cheeks.
"Come here," he coaxes.
He pulls me into a hug, and my heart won't stop beating hard and fast. That hasn't happened in such a long tim
e.
"He isn't going to quit. He loves you."
I nod. "I know."
"Stop the madness, T. Just, let him in."
"I want to, but I'm afraid of what it could mean for me if I do."
"What about what it means for you if you don't?" he retorts. "You don't see it, but I do. He's breathing life back into you."
My breath catches. That's what that is. The pounding of my heart. He makes me feel alive. I haven't felt this way since… before I pushed him out of my life.
I drop to my knees, and Lincoln does the same.
"Are you okay?" he asks, worriedly.
I nod. "Yeah. I am." I pause, then meet his gaze. "You know this is going to get ugly before it gets better, right?"
He nods. "I know. I'm here."
I blow out a breath, then inhale deeply.
"I forgot what it was like," I murmur absently.
"What what was like?" Lincoln asks.
"To feel alive."
The next morning, I make sure I look halfway decent before the designated time, only, the knock I'm waiting for doesn't come.
I sit there and wait, picking at my cuticles. I get more coffee and wait some more. I sit on the sofa across from the door, curling up my legs next to me, resting my elbow and coffee cup on the sofa arm.
Lincoln walks in, looks at me, and walks back out.
After forty-five minutes, I take my empty coffee cup to the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher. I sigh as I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I look at myself in the mirror above the sink and vow not to cry. I waited too long. What did I think would happen? Xander is a man, after all. He's sensitive and, oh God, he loves me, and I closed the door in his face day after day.
I rinse my mouth, unable to look at my stupid self anymore.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I curse under my breath.
This time, it's all on me.
I change out of my jeans and into a pair of yoga pants and the matching Rolling Stones tee to the one Xander wore yesterday. I find my red fuzzy socks and put in How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days. The fuzzy socks are to make me feel comfortable and secure while the movie is to torture me because of my stupidity.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I keep repeating it as I lie on the sofa, pulling a blanket over myself, and settling in for a long day of self-loathing.
I end up crying five minutes later. I'm full-on ugly crying when Lincoln comes rushing in.
"What's going on?"
"I-I-I s-suck," I wail.
"Shh," he soothes. "You don't suck. Why do you think you do?"
"I waited t-too long, and h-he didn't come. I wanted him to come today. I was going to let him in," I sob. "I was going to…"
"Shh. It's okay."
"It's not. It'll never be okay again because I'm a stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl."
"Tera—" he begins, only to be cut off by a knock at the door.
I jerk upright, out of Linc's arms, and run to the door, my hands full of snotty tissues, my face red and splotchy and tear-stained, but I don't care.
I look through the peephole. Oh, thank you, Jesus. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I hurriedly unlock the deadbolts, the chain getting caught up and wasting time. Hurry, hurry, hurry. He might leave!
I swing the door open and there he is. He's on his knees. He reaches out and hugs my legs, crawling forward to get closer.
"I love you, Tera. I'm so fucking sorry. I know everything's a mess right now, I know you want to close the door again, but please. Please don't close the door, Tera. Please don't close the door," he begs, his body shaking with his pleading.
I let out an involuntary cry and drop to my knees.
His eyes widen. "What's wrong? What happened?" he asks, taking in my tear-stained cheeks.
"Y-you d-didn't come. Y-you're late and I th-thought you weren't coming," I confess.
He rests his forehead against mine. "I'll always come for you, Tera. Always. I can't live without you. I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend it's okay. I can't pretend I'm okay."
I nod against his cheek as I hug him tight.
13
TERA
"Get in here, man. You don't want to draw attention to yourself," Linc tells Xander as he picks me up and carries me to the sofa. I don't want to let go of Xander and, thankfully, I don't have to for long. He's there, and he's hugging me, and I'm hugging him, and I'm crying, and he's crying, and it's craziness, and it's chaos, but it's what I need. It's Xander. It's living.
I don't know how long we stay like that. Minutes? Hours? We just hold each other, too afraid to let go.
He breathes my name, I breathe his.
"I love you so much, Tera."
"I love you, too, Xan, but there's a lot we need to talk about before it's all unicorns and rainbows," I inform him.
He nods. "I know. I just can't seem to let go."
I laugh. "Me neither."
"We could talk like this," he offers.
"Um, that might not be a good idea. I might punch you in the face," I warn.
He shrugs. "Whatever you need to do."
"I don't want to punch you in the face, but you know my temper gets the best of me sometimes."
"I remember."
We pull back at the same time. We both look ravaged.
I hold out the tissue box for him, and he blows his nose. I follow suit.
"I think I'm going to make some tea. My throat is sore. Would you like some? Soda, coffee, beer?"
"Tea's good. Not normally my thing, but yours is always fruity."
I smile at that.
When we're resettled in, I bring some pastries, cookies, chips, and two bottles of water, as well.
"Uh," Xander mutters, looking at me. "Planning on being here a while?"
"There's a lot, Xan. So much more than I ever realized."
He nods.
"I've been seeing my therapist twice a week, and I've talked things through with a couple of my friends," I inform him.
"Good. That's good you could get it out and make sense of things. The guys duct taped my mouth shut a couple of times. Ben threatened to super glue it."
I snicker. "He's so mean."
Xander chuckles. "He is mean. The fucker."
I laugh.
"Tell me, Tera. Tell me all of it. If you need to yell, scream, throw shit, punch me—whatever you need, please do it. We can't keep on like this. I can't."
I nod. "Okay." I blow out a breath. "Where to begin?"
"What's weighing on you most? What's the first thing that you think of when you remember your anger?"
"It's not just anger, Xan."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me tell you a story," I tell him about Carter and how I realized I'm not only angry, but I also resent him, them, the band. "I resent the fact that you didn't make it to my big night. I resent the fact that I stayed behind after everyone left so we could talk. That's me accommodating you—again. Then—"
"Stop. You don't have to say it. I know it. I think it every day. If I could go back and redo it, I'd be there. I didn't know how to handle it when I got there, to the hospital and found out everything, and then I realized I could've prevented all of your pain," he admits.
"Not just you, Xander. All of you. You all chose the band over me—again. It'd become so second nature that I resigned myself to that fact. I can't do that anymore. I won't. I don't want to resent you. I don't want to be so angry I sometimes think I hate you. I don't. I don't really—hate you, I mean. I just get so—I don't know. I need to come first. I need to know that I do. The darkness is a terrible place for me to be," I admit.
"I get that. So, uh, I saw the photos of you and Carter," he states carefully.
"Yeah? He's such a good guy. We needed to have that talk—he needed it. I'm glad he showed up that night."
Xan nods then takes a sip of his tea. "I don't have the right
to ask—"
I laugh humorlessly. "No, you certainly do not, sex-tape boy. Are you fucking kidding me? How stupid are you and Jesse? I expected better from you both."
Xan winces. "Not our finest hour."
I snort. "That's stating the obvious."
"Cage got all the videos down from everywhere. I don't know how, but he did," Xan states.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he's magical, that guy."
"Hmm. Hold on a second." I pick up my phone and dial Shea. "Hey, can you do me a favor and send me the thing we promised never to talk about again?"
"What for? Why would you want to watch that shit again? It wasn't very good anyway. Amateurs," Shea scoffs.
I laugh. "I know, I know. I just need it to prove a point."
Silent pause.
"Oh, snap. He's there, isn't he? Duuuuude. He's in so much trouble! I'll send it now."
"Thanks," I reply, but she already hung up.
A few minutes later an email comes through. I open it, press play, and turn the phone so Xander can see it.
"Fuck," he swears. "How?"
"People can make copies and who knows how many did before Cage got all the copies taken down. How long do you think it'll be before they start popping up all over again?" I ask.
"Fuck. Fuck!"
"Yep."
"Shit, Tera. I'm—"
"Sorry. I know. That doesn't change the fact it's out there. Same with the photos from the big party night. It's all out there, and it's not going away, Xan. You can't expect me to be okay with all of this. You and another chick fucking for the whole world to see? I mean… what the fuck, Xan? After everything that's happened and all of this, you can't expect me to step out into your spotlight with you. I'll be humiliated, ridiculed. I can't do that. I won't."
"I know, and I understand, Tera. I really did do a lot of thinking during our time apart."
"When did you have time?" I snark, standing up to begin to pace. "I mean between the concerts, the groupies, the models, the actresses, the threesomes… how ever did you find the time to think?"