Nodding, I took it from her and left the change room, quickly finding the sales chick so that I could get back to Stella. The assistant — who was excessively covered with make-up — referred to me as ‘hon’ and explained that what I was holding was a dress. She took it from me, soon returning with the correct size. I thanked her and headed back to the change area, not sure whether to enter Stella’s cubicle again.
Opting for the safe approach, I stuck my hand through the curtain and dangled the dress off my fingertip. “Here you go.”
Stella’s soft hand gently grazed mine and removed the dress, but it then turned aggressive when she grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me into the cubicle. I stopped when I came face to face with her — her lips were mere centimetres from mine, her eyes alight with lust.
“I’m going to need your help ... getting undressed,” she whispered, her warm breath flitting across my cheek and finding my ear. Fuck, did it arouse my cock.
I cleared my throat. “I can definitely help you with that. In fact, I’m very good at it.”
Stella smiled, slowly turned her back to me and moved her hair to the side, baring her neck and shoulders. I looked from her enticing bronze skin to her reflection in the mirror then back again, bringing my hands to the tie that held the dress together behind her back.
Gradually, I pulled on the bow and let it unravel, pushing the dress from her and revealing her fucking sensational body, which was showcasing a pair of black lace panties and a strapless bra.
My breathing hitched — as did hers — while we stared at each other’s reflections in the mirror. Stella’s chest was heaving, elevating her tits enticingly, yet she seemed to remain in control. I, on the other hand, was very quickly losing my shit.
Turning to face me, she lifted her arms in the air. “Are you very good at putting clothes on as well?”
No. No, I’m fucking not!
I shook my head.
She pouted.
“I guess I don’t need your help anymore, then,” she said, with a slight shrug.
I stepped closer and placed my hands on her hips. “I call bullshit. You need me for many things.”
“Lawson,” she whispered, exhaling slowly, her control now evidently diminishing like mine. “I need to try on that dress, or I’ll have nothing to wear on Saturday night. Surely you don’t want me showing up in this.”
Glancing down to the top of her cleavage, I raised my hand and ran my fingertip under the seam of her bra, subtly grazing the skin of her breast. “No, I don’t want you wearing only this. I don’t share what’s mine.”
“Mine?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice. Shit! Probably not the best choice of words. But fuck, I want her to be mine and I’m tired of ignoring it.
“Yeah ... that’s if you want to be.” I removed my finger from her bra and placed it on her bottom lip. “Do you? Because there’s nothing I want more. We can go slow, Princess. No pressure. No rush.”
“I do,” she said with a nod, “but I really need to try this dress on.”
Smiling — because she just said she was mine — I reached for the dress without taking my eyes from hers and threaded it over her hands. The black material fell over her head and face, so I pulled it down completely and then kissed her hard, fast and like a man possessed.
“Lawson!” she shrieked, then dropped her hands over my head, jumping into my waiting arms and wrapping her legs around my waist. “We ... can’t ... do ... this ... here,” she said between frenzied kisses.
“Who says?” I bit out hungrily.
A voice sounded from the other side of the curtain. “Ah ... hey, hon. Sorry to break it up in there, but Chic Express has a ‘no sexual relations in the change room’ policy.”
Stella quickly pulled away, covered her mouth with her hand then gently punched me in the shoulder, indicating I should put her down.
I didn’t fucking want to, so I shook my head and mouthed no.
“Sorry, ah ... he was just helping me ... um ... get this dress on,”
Stella stuttered, turning the shade of a red Ferrari.
“Well, as long as that’s all he is helping you with.”
I waggled my eyebrows and lifted the dress strap from her shoulder.
She swatted my hand away and wriggled out of my hold before taking a step back. “Yes. We will be out in a minute, thank you.”
I stepped closer, immediately swallowing the distance she’d created, distance I didn’t bloody like.
“Stop it!” she whispered, stepping backward yet again, her shoulders now firmly planted against the wall. “You’ll get us thrown out.”
“One more,” I declared.
“One more what?”
“One more of these.” I tilted her chin up and pressed my lips to hers, this time kissing her slowly.
Not wanting to, but knowing I had to, I separated from the kiss and stepped back, taking in for the first time the dress she’d tried on. “You look stunning. I think you should get it,” I said, strangling the words, before turning and exiting the change room to avoid being charged with an act of indecency.
* * *
After Stella emerged from the change room, she’d been unable to look the sales assistant in the eye. It was funny as shit. But what was also amusing was when I offered to pay for the dress and she adamantly pushed me out of the way and told me to piss off.
Now on our way back home, the two of us sneaking sideways glances at each other and smiling like kids, I couldn’t be happier. “Wanna kick back and watch a movie tonight?” I asked, chuckling when she poked her tongue out at me for stealing another look at her.
“Depends,” she answered, shrugging playfully. “You might have bad taste in films.”
“Well, if you think I’m going to sit and watch some sappy chick flick, think again.” I had to ease my foot off the accelerator due to a tractor moving slowly on the road up ahead. The bloody thing was hogging the entire lane.
“So let me guess ... you would want to watch something like Predator or Fight Club?” she asked sarcastically.
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to watch Little Women, or some shit like that.”
Frustrated by the tractor driver blocking my way, I kept my distance so that I could eventually speed up and pass him when the time was right.
“Who said I’d want to watch Little Women? I wouldn’t.” Her tone was slightly nervous.
I quickly glanced in her direction to see why she suddenly seemed wary. “How ‘bout we ditch the movie altogether and just watch each other?” I offered mischievously. In actuality I was all for that idea, and more.
Ready to pass the tractor, I swung out just a little to double-check that the road ahead was clear to overtake.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice suddenly saturated with panic.
“Passing this selfish prick,” I snapped my head in her direction. “We’ll be here all day if I don’t. The arsehole shouldn’t be taking up the entire lane.”
She shifted and gripped the seat with what appeared to be some serious fucking apprehension. “Lawson, please slow down!”
“Stella, I need to speed up to pass him. It’s fine.”
“No, please don’t.”
“There’re no cars coming, it’s safe.”
Ignoring her exaggerated state, I pressed my foot down on the accelerator and sped up, pulling into the oncoming lane in order to pass the tractor. My truck revved loudly, protesting my request for more power. Poor thing was near retirement. I just didn’t have the heart to say goodbye to the old girl.
“No!” Stella shouted, her shrill scream curdling my blood. “Stop! Pull over. I want to get out!”
“Stella! What the fuck?”
“STOP THE TRUCK!” she screamed.
Having no choice but to slow down and get behind the tractor again for fear of her wrenching the door open and throwing herself out onto the road, I then slammed my foot on the brake and pulled to a safe stop on the road shoulder.
Stella yanked off her seatbelt and frantically climbed out.
“Where are you going?” I shouted, completely stunned at the way she was reacting.
She didn’t answer, instead walking briskly along the side of the road toward home. What the fucking fuck? It was all happening so fast, too fast for me to understand what the hell was going on, so I opened my door, jumped out and ran after her, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around to face me. “What the hell was that about?”
Her eyes flared and she tried to break free of my hold. “Just leave me alone. I need to get out of here.”
Recognising her behaviour of pulling away and withdrawing, I sure as shit wasn’t about to fucking let that happen again. She wasn’t fleeing or pushing me away this time around. No fucking way. She was mine.
“We are not doing this again, Princess,” I stated categorically. “I’m not letting you push me away.”
She let out a strangled sob. “Lawson, just let it go. Please!”
“No can do,” I said firmly, shaking my head and piercing her with my stare.
Her chest heaved and a wave of what looked like fear washed over her beautiful face. “Let me go!” she yelled.
“No,” I yelled back, “not this time.”
Stella wrenched her arm free and pushed me hard in the chest. “He killed himself, all right?”
What the fuck? “Who?”
“My husband, that’s who. He got drunk, acted like a cowboy and overtook a truck. The arsehole wrapped himself around a fucking tree!”
F I F T E E N
No running away
He killed himself. He chose to drink and drive. He left me.
He. Killed. Himself.
“It’s his fault he died,” I sobbed, collapsing and falling forward into Lawson’s waiting arms.
“Stella, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done —”
“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Everything is his fault. He ruined his life, and he ruined mine.”
In that moment, I broke, really broke, emotionally and physically disintegrating within his embrace. My husband had robbed me of the life I wanted to live, deserved to live ... planned to live. He’d taken something from me that couldn’t be replaced.
He’d. Destroyed. My spirit.
Tears, grief, and the burden of a secret I’d carried for so long all of a sudden amplified and exploded. In that moment, the painful reminder of what I’d had and what had been taken away through no fault of my own tore through my body, as if torment were a living being and just exhaled over me. But it wasn’t torment causing me pain, and it wasn’t the reminder either. No, it was him — my husband — he caused the pain, still caused the pain. He had stripped me of everything I loved with all my heart. He stole my life.
“Shh ...” Lawson said as he held me tight and rubbed large, comforting circles across my back. “You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to be sad and angry.”
“I know, and I am. The bastard took more from me than just our happy marriage. He took my future. He took ... he took so much more. I just don’t want to feel sad and angry all the time. Feeling those things hurts,” I cried. “It hurts so much. I don’t want to hurt any more.”
Holding me tight in his arms, Lawson comforted me by the side of the road for what felt like several minutes before pulling back and wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Come on, let’s go home. We can’t stay here.”
He was right, so I nodded and let him lead me back to the truck where he helped me in like the perfect gentleman — like a knight in shining armour.
* * *
I woke to a feeling of weightlessness and vertigo, soon becoming aware that Lawson had lifted me into his arms and out of the truck.
“What ... where?” I stuttered, gathering my bearings. “Sorry, I must’ve dozed off.”
“You were exhausted. Go back to sleep,” he said soothingly, kicking the truck door closed with his foot.
I tightened my grip around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. “Will you lie down with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Of course,” he replied, pressing his comforting lips against the top of my head.
I savoured the feeling as Lawson carried me to my room and gently laid me on my bed where I scooted over and rested on my side, inviting him to take the place behind me. The bed dipped and within seconds I felt the warmth of his embrace as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body flush with his. “Thank you,” I whispered, closing my eyes, truly grateful for him being there.
He squeezed me tighter and nuzzled my head with his nose. “No thanks needed, Princess. I’m here for you. I’m all ears ... and a decent punching bag if you need to lay into someone.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’ve used you for that enough as it is.”
“You can use me however you like,” he said with a tone of playfulness.
Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and slowly let it out again. I needed to apologise to him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being crazy a lot. I was never like ...” I paused, opening my eyes so that I could explain. “Before the accident, I wasn’t like this. I was normal.”
“Stella, you are normal. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve suffered a pretty fucking huge loss. But you gotta deal with it. You can’t keep running away.”
“I know I need to deal with it. I’m just so angry. I hate him, and because of that I hate myself.”
“Tell me something,” he said cautiously, while gently trailing his finger up and down my arm. “When you left Melbourne to come here, did you tell anyone where you were going and for how long?”
“I told my best friend that I needed to get away. That’s it. I just wanted to leave, leave everyone and everything behind,” I sobbed, knowing it was a terrible thing to have done. “I don’t want any of that life. I don’t want the reminder. I can’t deal with it.”
Lawson sighed. “Ignoring a part of your past doesn’t mean it’s going to go away.”
I shuffled to loosen his hold and rolled around to face him, draping my leg over his hip. It brought the two of us together, body to body, face to face. “I know that,” I said sincerely, sniffling as I stared into his vivid light-blue eyes. “For the past year and a half I’ve been ignoring ... pretending ... dismissing what he did, but no matter how hard I try to bury him, he never stays gone. He is everywhere. In everything. I can’t take it. I hate him.”
Lawson gently wiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb, the action so tender and ... loving. “When was the accident?”
“The thirteenth of September 2013,” I blurted out, the date permanently etched onto my brain.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
I sighed. “Sure, I guess.”
Shifting my focus to a spot on the wall, I felt less vulnerable. Looking at that blemish was easier than looking at him — the blemish couldn’t judge. “Tristan, my husband, had gone to a mate’s place to watch a finals game of footy while I was on shift at the hospital. They both drank too much.” I paused, needing a moment before meeting his stare. “Tristan drove home and crashed into a tree when he tried to overtake a truck. He died instantly.”
“He made a mistake, Stella. A bad one.”
“Don’t defend him,” I bit out harshly, diverting my gaze.
“Hey, I wasn’t.” He held me tighter, as if he feared I would get up and flee the room. Strangely enough, I didn’t have the urge to do that this time.
“Just don’t try and tell me it was an accident. It wasn’t. He got himself drunk and hit the tree, and he’s fucking lucky he didn’t hit another car and kill its occupants as well. Then again, he’s dead, so it wouldn’t matter to him, would it? No, it only matters to the ones left behind.”
“Okay, I’m not defending him.”
“Good, because he doesn’t deserve it.”
Our eyes searched one another’s, the atmosphere surrounding us tense. I hated always feeling on
the precipice of rage and despair, as if I had a switch that could be flipped or nudged with one simple tap, and once tapped, all hell would be let loose. They were horrible emotions to confine, let alone attempt to control.
Lawson smoothed my hair behind my ears, the motion distracting and softening my rage and assisting my breathing to harmonise with his. “Do your parents know where you are?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence.
“No. Dad is busy and Mum couldn’t give a shit.”
“I’m sure they’re worried about you.”
“Well, you’re wrong. They haven’t even sent me a text asking how I am.”
He furrowed his brow, and I could see that he didn’t understand how that could be. “So who’s been calling you? Who do you keep ignoring?”
Have I been that obvious? “My best friend, Julia. She’s worried, but she worries too much, to the point of her presence suffocating me. It was one of the many reasons I fled Melbourne.” Deserting Julia like I had was very wrong. I knew that. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been there for me in my darkest hour, and even though I couldn’t remember how or in what capacity, I knew she’d been there.
“You really should take her next call, Princess.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I knew that he was right. What I’d done — left in the manner I had — wasn’t fair to Julz. She had her own problems to deal with. I nodded my agreement.
“What about your nursing job?”
I shrugged. “What about it? I resigned. I’m no longer a nurse,” I answered curtly, a little too curtly to be completely honest. “Sorry, I don’t mean to snap like that. It’s just ... all this ... it’s hard, all right? I can’t talk about it without wanting to scream bloody murder. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him for what he did.”
Lawson leaned forward and kissed my head again. It felt nice, comforting. “I think you will in time.”
I scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah? How much time? It’s been a year and a half already. You’d think I would’ve forgiven him by now if that were the case.”
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