Possession (Texas Titans #8)

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Possession (Texas Titans #8) Page 15

by Cheryl Douglas


  “You really think I’m stupid enough to go public with this?” Dalton asked, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re only trying to help, but there’s no way I want this getting out.”

  “Even if you could be an example?” Dylan asked, frowning. “You could stop other kids from living the hell you’re living right now.”

  “Don’t paint me as a martyr, man. That’s never been my deal.”

  “No, but you’ve always had integrity,” Dylan said, standing. “You were always the leader in the dressing room, the one who led the way for the rest of us when we were feeling down and out. You have an opportunity to do that again, to be a leader, an example. The question is do you have the guts?”

  Dalton glared at his friend, his anger rising. “You know there’s a hell of a lot more at stake.”

  “Yeah, your reputation.”

  “In this business, that’s all a man has.”

  “His legacy is all he is,” Dylan said, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. “You can be remembered for being a great player or you can be remembered for being a great example. I know which I’d choose.”

  Dalton watched his brother-in-law walk away wondering if he could ever find the courage to admit to the legions of fans who’d loved and supported him throughout his career that he wasn’t the pillar of strength they’d believed him to be.

  The thought terrified him… almost as much as the idea of living a lie for the rest of his life.

  ***

  Sophie knew it wasn’t a coincidence she’d been seated next to Dalton at the rehearsal dinner her parents were hosting. Carly was trying to force Sophie to face Dalton so they could work their problems out before the big day. The last thing she wanted was a maid of honour on the verge of falling apart every time she looked at a certain groomsman.

  “How are things going with your work?” Dalton asked, reaching for his water glass.

  She noticed his hand shook and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. It was warm outside, but not that warm. “Jeremy and I came to an agreement that allowed me to move back here and focus on designing while overseeing production at the studio.”

  “That’s great.”

  She didn’t know what she expected when she told him she’d moved back home, a smile, maybe? “It’s working out well, so far.”

  “Good.”

  Conversation with Dalton had always flowed freely and she hated the tension between them. “I closed on the cottage.”

  “Congratulations.” He drank the water in his glass before reaching for the crystal pitcher to re-fill it.

  “Thanks.” Under the table, she twisted the white cotton napkin in her lap, wishing she could wring his neck instead. “I’ll be staying at the condo while they work on the place. After that I think I’ll sell the condo and move out there. I know it’s a bit of a commute into the city, but I’d only have to visit the studio a couple of times a week and I think I’d enjoy the peace and quiet out there.”

  “Whatever works for you.” He nodded his thanks to the waiter who placed his appetizer plate in front of him.

  Once the waiter was out of earshot and the people on either side of them were engrossed in conversation again, she blurted out, “You really don’t care, do you? Tell me, Dalton, did you ever care about me?”

  Her voice must have carried to the head of the table because her mother stared at both her and Dalton, wide-eyed. Great, just what she needed, to deal with one of her parent’s inquisitions about her love life. They were well-meaning, but ridiculously over-protective.

  “You know I did,” he said, his voice low and neutral. “I still do. No matter what happens between us I’ll always consider you a friend, Soph.”

  “A friend?” she asked, fearing she was on the verge on hysteria and about to make a fool of herself while ruining her best friend and brother’s special dinner. “That’s all I am to you now, a friend?” When he closed his eyes instead of responding, she tossed her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. “Nice to know where I stand. Finally.”

  Sophie practically ran away from the table, feeling dozens of curious eyes following her. She was ashamed of her outburst, especially given the circumstances, but she couldn’t sit that close to Dalton while pretending her heart wasn’t breaking at the distance between them. She’d known him most of her life, counted him among her friends, yet tonight he was acting like a polite stranger and it was killing her.

  His heavy footsteps landed behind her on the patio stones circling the pool, but she could tell he was in no rush to catch up to her. Probably because he had no idea what to say. He’d probably intended to let her down gently, when the time and place was right. After the wedding. He never would have expected her to force his hand tonight.

  “This isn’t the time or place,” he said, parroting her thoughts. “Tonight is about Carly and Brett. We’re here for them. We should have been able to check our own drama at the door.”

  “It’s that easy for you, isn’t it?” she cried, brushing away the tears staining her carefully applied make-up. “You can just pretend I never meant anything to you.”

  “You meant everything to me,” he said, taking a step closer. His big hands closed around her upper arms while he lowered his heads so she could hear him whisper, “You still do and probably always will, Soph. But I’m going through some things right now and I can’t be there for you the way you need me to be. I’m sorry.”

  She shoved him, angry when he barely budged. “I’m tired of your excuses! You made love to me. You said you loved me, implied that you wanted a future with me.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, noting the curious look from her parents before he muttered, “Please keep your voice down. Your father looks about ready to haul his shotgun out.”

  “I wish he would.” She didn’t mean that, but she wanted him to hurt as much as he’d hurt her. “I kept waiting for you to call and explain what was going on, but you didn’t even have the guts to do that. You just left me hanging, promising to come clean after the wedding, expecting me to wait around for you to-”

  “I never expected you to wait for me. You’re free to move on with your life whenever you see fit.” He dropped his hands, taking a step back. “In fact, that might be the best thing for you to do.”

  His words felt like a punch, knocking the wind out of her. “You want me to find someone else?”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants before taking another step back. “What I want is for you to be happy. You seem to be figuring out how to do that just fine without me.”

  “Is this about the cottage?” she asked, trying to make sense of his indifference. “Or are you mad that I moved back here without telling you? I wanted to call you, but I was trying to give you some space to deal with whatever the hell is causing you to act like a different person.”

  “I’m not angry,” he said softly, turning his back to her. “At least not at you.”

  “Then who are you angry at?” she asked, stepping in front of him, forcing him to face her.

  “I’m angry at myself for allowing this spiral out of control.” He closed a hand over his eyes as though he was trying to shut her out.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, gripping his massive bicep. “Are you referring to us, the fact that you allowed things to get too serious? Is that what you’re talking about?”

  His eyes were downcast when he said, “I should never have allowed myself to fall in love with you. More importantly, I shouldn’t have allowed you to fall in love with me. The timing was all wrong. I wasn’t in the right headspace for that kind of commitment.”

  “Then you regret what we had?” She choked back a sob. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, she never could have imagined he would want to erase their time together. “Just say it.”

  “I regret the way things went down,” he said, finally. “I regret the timing. But more than anything I regret the pain I’ve caused you. I never meant for that to happe
n.”

  “Just tell me why you’re acting this way,” she pleaded. “What’s wrong? Why can’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Maybe I could help.”

  “You can’t,” he said, turning his back on her. “This is my problem and I have to deal with it on my own.”

  ***

  It devastated Dalton to know he was the one causing the tears streaming down Sophie’s face. If he’d left her alone instead of convincing her it was safe to fall in love with him, she wouldn’t be going through hell now.

  He’d naively believed he could kick the habit in just a few days and own up to it after the wedding, when he was sure it would no longer be an issue. But every hour was a struggle and he couldn’t be certain he could get through the day without pills. How could he look her in the eye and promise her the worst was behind him when he wasn’t certain of that himself?

  “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” she asked, softly.

  Clearly, she wasn’t prepared to let him go without a fight. He loved her even more for battling to the bitter end, but if she knew the truth she’d be appalled. “Of course I did. What kind of question is that?”

  “A legitimate one. If you loved me, you’d be honest with me, no matter how much it hurts either one of us. That’s what people in love do, Dalton.”

  She made it sound so easy, but he didn’t want the truth to colour her opinion of him. He would rather she believe he was a selfish bastard than know he was so weak he couldn’t even control his own impulses.

  “Trust me, you’re better off without me.” He sincerely believed that. Sophie was the good girl, the one who didn’t drink excessively or experiment with drugs in high school or college. She could never understand how he’d allowed himself to succumb to this compulsion.

  “You didn’t feel that way when I told you I was moving to L.A.,” she reminded him. “You wanted me to stay and when I told you I couldn’t you made it impossible for me to want to live so far away from you. You called me every day and night. You reminded me how good it had been between us. Why did you do that if you didn’t want me?”

  “This has nothing to do with how much I want you!” He walked across the lawn as quickly as his aching knees would allow, trying to separate them from the crowd. He hated that Sophie seemed so determined to have this out with an audience watching their every move, but he knew they’d come too far to walk away now.

  “That’s it,” she mocked, following him. “Run away, Dalton.”

  “I’m not running away. You’re the one who should be running, as far away from me as you can get.”

  He stopped, leaning against an old oak tree as he bowed his head. His whole body shook as he suppressed the urge to drop to his knees. He was desperate for relief from the physical pain that dogged him every waking moment, the emotional anguish of believing his life was out of control and the dull ache in his heart whenever he thought about losing the woman he now believed was the love of his life.

  “I’m not running,” she said, planting herself between him and the tree. “I’m right here.” She framed his face with her hands. “Telling you that I love you. I want to help you. Why won’t you let me?”

  “Because you can’t,” he said, resting his palm against her hand. “No one can, baby.”

  “It can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.” Her eyes glided down his body, resting on his legs. “Does this have something to do with the surgery? Are you afraid something will go wrong or maybe you’ll have to be dependent on me for a few months and you-”

  “It’s not that.” The surgery was the least of his worries now. He refused to allow the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life baby-sitting a recovering addict, worrying about whether he might slip up again and revert back to his old ways.

  “Then what is it?” she cried. “Please, you have to tell me. You can’t keep me guessing like this. It’s not fair.”

  “None of this is fair,” he said, closing his hands around her face. He tried to quash the urge to kiss her, but it was too strong and by the time they broke apart he could taste her salty tears on his lips. “Don’t you think I know that? It’s not fair that I couldn’t allow you to build a new life for yourself in L.A.”

  “I wouldn’t have been happy in L.A.,” she argued, wrapping her arms around his waist. “This is my home. This is where I belong, right here with you.”

  “No.” He touched his forehead to hers as he tried to find the words to let her go without destroying what they had left. “You don’t belong with me, sweetheart.”

  “Why are you saying that?” She fisted his button down shirt in her hands while the sobs tore through her slight body. “You know it’s not true. I know the way it felt when you made love to me. You can’t fake that.”

  “I didn’t fake a thing when I was with you.” The least he could do was own how much he’d loved her. He didn’t want her to walk away from this relationship feeling she’d been duped by a skilled player. “It was real. Everything I ever said to you, every touch…” He caressed her face gently before gliding his lips across her cheek, catching her tears. “Every kiss, every time we made love. It was all real to me.”

  “Then how can you end it?” she cried, closing her hand around the back of his neck so he wouldn’t retreat. “If you love me even half as much as I love you then you’d be willing to fight with everything you have.”

  “I am fighting.” With myself. To be a better man. He wanted to tell her maybe someday when he was no longer living in the shadow of his obsession, but he knew it wasn’t fair to give her false hope. The kindest thing he could do would be to let her go, no matter how much it hurt.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s complicated.” He knew she deserved an explanation, but he wasn’t man enough to give it to her. Yet. Maybe years from now, when she’d moved on and built a life with someone new, they could share a drink and he’d tell her why he had to let her go. But not now when the agony was splitting him in two and there were so many uncertainties about his future.

  “That’s a cop-out and you know it,” she said, shoving him. “You’re a goddamn coward, Dalton!”

  “You’re right.” He took a step back, giving her the freedom to run. “And now that you see me for what I am you can put this behind you.” He gestured to the party she’d left. “Go back to your family and friends, Sophie. They love you. They’ll always be there for you.” He wanted to tell her that they’d be there to help her heal, to pick up the pieces he’d left behind, but he didn’t have to. She knew she had a legion of people who loved and supported her.

  “So this is it then?” She squared her shoulders, obviously trying hard not to stop the flow of tears. “It’s the end of us?”

  She made it sound so final, but of course it was. It had to be. “You’ll thank me for this one day.” He knew she didn’t believe him now, but she would, if she ever learned the truth about him.

  “No, I won’t.” She raised her chin, looking determined. “But I can promise you that you will regret it.”

  He watched her walk away, her head held high as he fought back tears.

  “I already do, girl,” he whispered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Dalton?” her mother asked, as they packed away the dishes and linens so the party supply company could pick them up in the morning.

  “I didn’t know where it was going,” Sophie said, smoothing the creases out of a white linen tablecloth with her hand. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I know how much you and Daddy would like to see me settle down with a nice guy.”

  “Dalton is a nice guy,” her mother said, hesitantly. “We like him very much, but he does have a reputation, Sophie. You should be careful.”

  Given the fact she returned to the party alone, her mother should have guessed it was over between them. “You don’t have to worry about it. I won’t be seeing him anymore.” If only it were that easy. Their lives were painfully int
ertwined since they shared so many of the same friends.

  “I’m sorry.” Her mother reached for her hand. “I can tell how much that upsets you.”

  Sophie had tried so hard to be brave. She’d taken a few minutes to pull herself together before returning to the party. She’d splashed water on her face, powdered her nose and gave herself a stern talking to in the bathroom mirror, reminding herself that it was her best friend and brother’s time to celebrate their love and commitment to each other. She’d have plenty of time to fall apart later, when she was all alone.

  “I’ll be fine.” She knew she would be, eventually. It wouldn’t be days or even weeks from now, but she knew a broken heart couldn’t last forever. It would heal sooner or later.

  “Will you?”

  Her mother didn’t sound any more convinced than she was. “What choice do I have, Mama? He doesn’t want me anymore. I can’t force him to change his mind. Besides, I have my pride.”

  “Yes, you certainly do have your pride.” Ethel sat down at the long table, indicating her daughter should do the same. “But some things are more important than pride, honey.”

  Sophie wasn’t in the mood for one of her mother’s life lessons, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. She sat down with a slight sigh to make it known she wasn’t happy with the direction of the conversation.

  “You were the one who always taught me to be strong and independent,” Sophie reminded her. “You told me to learn to stand on my own two feet and not to depend on a man to take care of me.”

  “I know.” Ethel patted her daughter’s hand, a smile warring with her tear-filled eyes. “You have to understand the way it was when I was growing up. I didn’t feel I had a say in anything. My parents expected me to get married straight out of school and have babies. If I worked, there were only certain professions deemed appropriate,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That’s why we made it a point not to place any of those limitations on you. You could be anything you wanted to be and I loved watching you spread your wings and soar.”

 

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