She’d probably already held her niece, and hugged her other best friend, and cried, and more than likely slugged her brother for being an ass, but leapt into his arms anyway and gushed about how happy she was for them. I bet she’s already rolled in the yard with her beloved Sixx and Mars.
Michael could picture it all as if he was there. With all the things going on around her, even the good, there would be a dull, haunted look in Tori’s beautiful eyes. He wondered who would be the first to notice, and if they would ask her about it. Would they assume it was just all the stuff she missed there or would someone wrap her up tight and just hold her until she wanted to share? Michael couldn’t reconcile the fact that person wouldn’t be him.
His next thought sent chills racing down his spine and ice coursing through his bloodstream as he toweled off and dressed. When would she see the paper? Would she know it was the last attempt of a desperate woman or would she believe he’d lied to her? Surely, after everything he’d told her, she would know Tonya was a nut job. But maybe not, maybe with all the shit he’d already heaped on her, she wouldn’t even question it. Maybe she would simply accept it as another shovel-full. That thought physical pained him.
Michael was pulled from his musings by a rumble. He finished dressing haphazardly, slipped into his shoes without socks, and burst out of the bathhouse. Fuck, he couldn’t see anything but lights. He didn’t have a clue who it was, but to be honest, he didn’t give a rat’s ass. It was already decided he would walk away from here, let Richard or the charity have it, whoever had claim now. He didn’t care. He would jump in that vehicle with whomever it was—even Wendy or the devil himself—and get back to Tori and shield her from at least a little, if he could.
When the lights neared his cabin, he realized it was a Bobcat pulling a snowmobile. John. John must be coming back for me knowing I’ll be an emotional wreck. God, he loved that man like the brother he never truly had. Sprinting through the snow, Michael was waving frantically and calling to his friend.
Michael launched himself at the slightly-older man, letting the emotional floodgates open, and John said nothing, just let Michael get it out of his system. Finally, Michael pulled away, “Boy, am I glad to see you.”
“I can tell.” John chuckled as he made his way around the Bobcat to untie the snowmobile and drag it up next to the porch. After returning to Michael who maintained his place, he clapped him on the shoulder while retrieving some things from the front seat.
“Not that I’m not flattered to be appreciated, but to what do I owe this pleasure? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you looking so hopeful, albeit panicked.” John placed his burden under his arm and rubbed and blew on his obviously-frozen hands. “Do you mind if we take this inside? I’m freezing my family jewels off out here.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, come on, I’ll build up the fire and we’ll talk.” Michael placed his hand on John’s shoulder and they made their way inside. “Sit.” Michael made short work of stoking the fire, thanks to building it up before he showered.
“Now, as I was saying, not that I’m not happy to see you, too, I just didn’t expect you to welcome me with open arms.”
Michael faced John with a puzzled expression. “Why?”
“Well, I did just take the woman you love back to Florida and she didn’t seem too pleased with you. Even shared a few details. I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed in your behavior, even if I understand where it came from. So, how are you with everything that went down?” he asked raising an eyebrow, “Really?”
“Not good. Okay, Hell, I don’t know yet. I know that hurting her destroyed me.” Pacing in front of the fire as he spoke, Michael let panic kick in. “I know that by leaving things the way I did and not being completely transparent, I’ve set her up to be blindsided and hurt even worse.” Michael finally stopped his perpetual motion and turned to John with his emotions raw. “I have to make it right, but I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, I guess you start by assessing what you feel and what you want, then, you read these.” John tossed some papers on the coffee table.
“What are those?” Michael asked as he approached them as if they would bite him.
“Those are some things Tori gave me and asked me to bring them to you when I brought the snowmobile back.”
Michael scooped the precious papers off the scarred wood surface and walked backward until the hollow behind his knees bumped the bed, then sat. There was some legal crap, which he tossed aside in favor of the note addressed to him.
Michael,
Our time together was magical. I never dreamed when I got on that tiny plane, I would meet a kindred soul who would become invaluable to me. Little did I know I was embarking on a rollercoaster ride. Some of the drops were really scary and I had to hold my breath to make it through, but some of the highs were so high, I could’ve touched the clouds, maybe I did a time or two.
And you know what? I wouldn’t trade a single millisecond of the ride, not even when the car felt like it was soaring uncontrollably off the tracks.
For all the shit that Richard took from us over the years, he also gave us something special, so again, I wouldn’t trade it for anything…except maybe your happiness. If it was within my power to do so, I would force-feed you contentment until it was coming out of your ears. But, only you can make you happy. You’ve let too many people rob you of that, or rather, you gave it away. Joy can’t be stolen; its owner can only relinquish it willingly.
I beg of you, take it back. Take your joy back from every person you’ve gifted it to. They don’t deserve it. Believe it or not, you taught me that in our short time together. You may not realize it, but you did. I had given Richard not only my happiness, but I also let him set the price of my self-worth.
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart, and hope to return the favor in some small way…someday. I want you to seek your joy, your peace, your happiness. I want you to take it back from anyone you’ve given to over the years. I want you to see Dr. Beckett or someone equally qualified and get to a good place in your life. A place where you decide your value, no one else. Because your worth is immeasurable and when you see that, when you believe it, you’ll be able to share your heart, not close it off to protect what’s left.
When that time comes, and if you want to, give me a call, until then, I don’t think I’m what’s healthy for you.
PS. I am good Michael. Any feelings I have are mine, you are not responsible for my happiness, I am.
Happily melted,
Tori
Michael wasn’t sure how long he sat there after reading her letter before John broke through the chatter in his head.
“You all right? That must have been some letter to stun you silent like that. I can’t remember you ever being this speechless.”
“Well, it takes an extraordinary woman to silence me, especially when we’re not even in the same state.” Michael’s smile was sad, but tinted with hope. Tori was basically setting him free, all but telling him not to seek her out until he had his head on right. Even with the Dear John overtone, he felt so much love from her words. He wished she had said the actual words, though. They could sustain him, but something about “happily melted” nagged at him. What the Hell does that mean?
That was going to be the first question he asked her when he showed up on her doorstep begging her to marry him. He had some work to do and it wouldn’t be easy, but what worth having ever was?
Michael jumped off the bed and started packing. “You ready to make the trip back to Florida tonight?” he asked John as he tore through the room like a whirlwind, getting things ready to close the cabin up for a very long time, at least until the charity or Richard claimed it.
“Sure, aren’t you going to read the others?” queried John, indicating the blue wrapped legal papers. Michael snatched them off the quilt as he passed and gave them to John.
“Do you mind, I have too much to do? Where’d they come from anyway?�
�
“Tori gave them to me, said she found them pinned to the wall with a kitchen knife.”
“Well, they’re probably contact info or transfer instructions for the cabins. Since I’m not staying the required time, and Richard already left, and told me about my parents, I guess I’m forfeiting the cabins. But I don’t care, Tori is worth more to me than anything.”
Silence prevailed for several moments before John broke it. “Says here you didn’t have to stay. Once Richard blabbed, the cabins automatically reverted to you. All you need to do is contact this firm here,” John pointed to a section of type, “and the paperwork will be drawn up. Congratulations, you get the money and the girl.”
That bastard lied about me having to stay, why am I not surprised? “Not the girl just yet, but I will. I’ll prove to her she’s not bad for me in any way. She’s the best thing in my life, and I mean to make it a permanent situation, but first, I need to get home and do some damage control before she refuses to give me that chance.”
“I’m proud of you, Michael. I can already see a change in you from when we spoke. Whatever happened out here worked, and I believe it can only get better. I wish Troy could’ve found the magic you have, maybe he’d still be with us.”
Michael stopped and went to his friend. “In a way he did, he changed my perception. What you told me about him, that’s where the change started, that was the magic I found, John—Troy.”
John appeared too choked up to speak and patted Michael on the shoulder and there was a thank you written across his face. With John’s help, the cabin was locked up tight, his future was bright, and he was heading back home.
In more than one way.
By the time they landed in the panhandle, Michael was as tired as an old coonhound that just ran a deer to ground. John insisted on driving him home, which was a good thing, since he didn’t think he would actually make it if he had to concentrate on traffic. He even fell asleep in John’s car a few times along the way.
He unlocked the door to his condo and stepped in, relieved to find Tonya was nowhere in sight. Maybe she gave up the fight and moved on. Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt. He chuckled as that thought formed, because it was something Tori would say. It was absurd to think Tonya would ever give up on anything she wanted. Whatever, he would deal with her in the morning, he was too beat to wait until she wandered back from whatever bed she was in, to have it out with her.
He was buying her out though, as soon as he could liquidate some of his inheritance, he was getting rid of her ass. It was a bittersweet thought, getting rid of her was worth any price, but selling some of the cabins, which now suddenly meant something more than a residual income source, was tough. Before this trip, he planned to keep them for that sole purpose, never expecting to visit again. But now, there were amazing memories balancing the bad. Sure, there were new shitty ones too, he could admit that, but his time with Tori outweighed it all.
Giving up the cabins to de-clutter his life and be the man Tori needed was nothing. He would sell his soul if he thought it was what she wanted, if he could even fetch a decent price for it as scarred as it was now.
Signs of Tonya were everywhere, little ones. Signs that most wouldn’t recognize as definitely feminine, but he could see them. It was like a dog pissing on its property, it reeked of her attempts to lay claim to his life; to him.
But nowhere was her attempt to usurp his existence more prevalent than his bedroom. Her lingerie was everywhere. He wasn’t fooled by the seemingly random arrangement. Everything she fucking did was calculated. He tossed his shit down in the corner and fell face down on the comforter, thinking not to stir again for twelve hours, but that plan was quickly smashed as soon as he inhaled.
He clambered off the bed like it was toxic goo, which it kind of was, and his curse cut through the serenity of the night. He’d have to not only steam clean the entire place, he’d have to buy a new bed, too. No way could he stand to have her be a part of his life, even after she gets her ass out of his house.
He stomped down the hall to his studio, snagging a pillow and cover from the linen closet on the way. It was the only semi-soft surface left besides the living room sectional, since he turned the spare bedroom into a gym.
In no time, he was asleep and dreaming of Tori. The nightmares that usually plagued him were paused, the demons, silent. Just the two of them making love in the cabin, frolicking on the beach, and growing old together. It was the sweetest dream he’d ever dreamt and if a man could make a vow in his sleep, Michael did that night. He vowed to make his dream a reality by fulfilling every one of hers.
One particular dream was especially realistic. Tori had him in hand and was pumping him slow and steady toward that pained edge of pleasure. See, I don’t feel violated with her taking the lead, I’ve made it past that hurdle and I can enjoy this. That thought pleased him, because it meant he wasn’t broken beyond repair.
He chanted her name. That, combined with her actions, drew him closer and closer. He reached for her, pulling her near for a kiss. In his sleep-soaked body, he missed and kissed the front of her throat. Not one to waste an opportunity, he suckled hard and fast to mark her as his.
It wasn’t until she said his name that he realized her skin didn’t smell right, too artificial. Tori didn’t wear that perfume, especially not in the amounts that were invading his senses, but maybe she had dialed it back being in the middle of nowhere.
As that thought fled and his focus narrowed to his cock, she said his name again when he kneaded her breast through her clothing, but her voice was wrong. Before he could puzzle out why she sounded different, he realized her breasts were different; again, too artificial. Michael was fighting the remnants of slumber, trying to regain enough coherency to find out what was wrong, when she kissed him on the lips.
She doesn’t taste like home. She doesn’t taste like home. She’s supposed to taste like home. Shaking off the final vestiges of sleep, Michael thrust open his eyes and sat up abruptly, knocking a stunned Tonya to the ground.
“What the fuck, Michael?” Tonya screamed as she gained her feet and smoothed out her dress. “We were having a good time and you had to go all startled gorilla on me. What gives?”
Michael was up and pacing like a caged tiger and spitting on the floor. When that wasn’t enough, he pushed past Tonya to the bathroom to gargle. “What do you mean we were having a good time, I wasn’t with you and you know it. I will never be with you again.”
She leaned on the bathroom doorframe with arms crossed over her silicone chest and took on a haughty tone. “Well, it sure felt like you were with me when you were pumping your dick into my hand and sucking my neck.” Gargling, he looked at her when she pointed at her throat. He was horrified at the mark there. Clear as day and just off the center; a huge hickey. Michael felt sick. He spit.
“You know better, Tonya, I would never touch you. I was asleep and thought you were someone else.” He shouldered past her once again, went back to his studio couch and settled in, facing the back cushions so he didn’t have to look at her. He knew she would follow. She wasn’t done by a long shot.
“Ah, Tori, is it? She sounds perfectly…average? So, where did you meet this woman you cry for in your sleep? It had to be after you left, so is she a backwoods Volunteer, Michael? Really, I thought you had better taste?” Michael didn’t respond but he heard her enter further into the room and sit in his practice chair. Michael didn’t need a visual to know she sat with her legs crossed, probably inspecting her acrylic nails for dirt to complete the snobby air.
“Well, I hope she’s out of your system, because I will not be embarrassed by a cheating husband and I will not be degraded by listening to you pine away for her every night. If you need to, fly back to Tennessee and fuck her brains out if you must, but I want you focused on me and our wedding pronto. I have appointments for flowers and catering and just a million other things I thought I would be doing alone, but now that you’re home, you can pla
y the part of a dutiful fiancé in public.”
Michael wrenched around on the couch and sat up, facing her down. “No, Tonya. We are not getting married. We are not dating or engaged. We are not picking out flowers and you will get out of my house as soon as I see the proper people and have them cut you a fucking check. Listen carefully we—are—through. We were done the minute I caught Shane riding your ass like a Shetland pony.”
“But Michael, the announcement was printed, the invitations went out. What will people think? I will be humiliated. I won’t be able to show my face in town ever again.”
Michael was done looking her in the eye like he was speaking to someone with equal comprehension; now, he towered over her, trying to convey every ounce of his anger. “Then you should have thought of that before you did all those things. You knew we were through. You made your bed by trying to force my hand, now you have to lie in it. I don’t care what the town thinks of you, or me, for that matter. The only person whose opinion matter to me now is Tori’s. And I swear if she is hurt further by your actions, I don’t know that I can keep it to myself any longer why we broke up in the first place. I’m sure you spun a pretty story to explain our on-again engagement while I was gone.”
Michael returned to the couch and took a seat, mirroring her haughty posture.
“I’m positive you didn’t tell them it was my best friend’s cock that came between us. No, you would have painted yourself the victim, am I right? Of course I am. So, this is how things will go down. The paper will print a retraction or a ‘oh, so sad, they broke up,’ or whatever makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. The invitations will be rescinded and the appointments and venue canceled once again. I will allow you to decide the public story of why we aren’t getting married, so long as it doesn’t involve me cheating on you with Tori, or her in any way. If you go the we-broke-up-again route, fine, but you will write a letter for Tori stating the truth about this wedding and engagement—that we broke up long ago and it was all you from that point on.”
Brand Me (Imagine Ink Book 2) Page 19