My Weakness

by Alison Mello

  I plastered a smile on my face. “Looks good.”

  Completely oblivious to my shock, she admired herself in the mirrors for the next half an hour whilst Joan made final adjustments. The drive home was silent on my part. Molly chatted away about her hen night, which was next Saturday. The boys were also having their stag do that night.

  “You coming round mine or going back home?”

  I needed some space from her at the moment so told her I wanted to go home.

  Scott had stayed at mine whilst Molly took me to the dress shop. A strange feeling coursed through me at the thought of a man waiting for me at home. It was odd but one that I welcomed. I liked it and I definitely wanted more of it. He greeted me with a deep kiss as I arrived through the door.

  “I’m going to fetch a change of clothes,” he said. “Be back soon.”

  I nodded, sharing another smooch with him before surrounding myself in the silence of my solo presence once again. After he left, I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done—called my brother to whinge about Molly.

  He chuckled at me down the phone. “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you that I do not like that girl. There is always a reason why gay men don’t like people, babes, take notice of me for once, hey?”

  “Ash, she’s my best friend.”

  “Really? Would a best friend really do that to you?”

  I fell silent, realising I was fighting a losing battle.

  “Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m not going to sugar coat anything for you. There’s no point.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll come see you when we’re back from London. You going to be okay?”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  ***

  I collapsed on the sofa, flicking through TV channels for the next hour or so. My phone rang, surprise hitting me as I saw it was Scott.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, babes. Hey, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can come back over today. My dad just called, he’s up this way and wants to see me.”

  A stab of disappointment hit me. “Oh, okay. Sure. No problem.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  The phone went dead, leaving me to submerge myself in a need of wine and comfort food. Whilst I ransacked my cupboards with little success, my phone chimed with a text.

  Paul: I meant what I said. X

  My heart stopped dead as I read over it again and again. I refused to admit I missed him too. I was with Scott now, and potentially looking at the future I finally admitted I wanted.

  I decided to text him back.

  Me: Maybe you wouldn’t have had to say it if you hadn’t been such an ass in the first place!

  Paul: I had to be. You have no idea how much I didn’t want to be. X

  Me: What on earth is that supposed to mean?

  I stared at my phone for the next few minutes, waiting for a response, but nothing came. Scowling to myself, I decided to make a trip to the shop for my much needed alcohol and junk food. When I arrived back home, I sat in the car for a few minutes, eyes closed as I thought of what a mess I’d gotten myself into recently.

  I opened my eyes with a sigh, which turned into a scream. Paul’s face stared back at me through my window.

  He opened my door, taking my bags from me. “Hi.” His beautiful blue eyes were tinged with a softness I’d never seen before.

  My anger at his treatment of me boiled to the surface. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  I snorted. “Didn’t your mum teach you I want never gets?”

  “Kyra—”

  “No.” My voice came out a little louder than I expected. “Don’t ‘Kyra’ me. You treated me like a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe before pissing off for three weeks without a single word.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am.”

  “Prove it.”

  He frowned. “How do you expect me to prove it? I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t bothered, would I? I would have waited until Monday to see you otherwise.”

  I scanned over his handsome face, my heart melting at having him so near to me once again. I wanted so desperately to fall into his arms, to have his lips grazing over my skin. But this time, my head ruled my heart, demanding I keep him at bay.

  “Ah, I see. You thought you’d come apologise and I’d hump your brains out in some idealistic view of make-up sex.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. My life isn’t black and white and simple. I need to explain a few things to you.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “For what reason? What are you going to gain from doing so?”

  He hesitated before he answered. “I just thought if you understood, things might be different.”

  “Different how? You finished this. Deal with it. You made your bed now go lie in it.”

  I moved to take my bags but he moved them from one side of his fine body to the other.

  “Fine. Keep them. I don’t care.”

  I stomped inside, making a point to slam the door in his face. I was shaking from anger as all the emotions I’d buried for the past three weeks bubbled to the surface all at once. My front door opened and I spun around, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “What are you doing? I didn’t invite you in.”

  He smirked. “Do you want your night time feast of crap and drink?”

  I snatched my bags back. “You can go now.” I turned and walked back to the kitchen, dumping the bags on the worktop with a loud clatter.

  The door clicked closed and I leaned against the worktop, taking a deep, shaky breath. I struggled not to run outside and throw myself at him, desperate to have him next to me again. Needing some water, I turned to grab a glass but instead met Paul’s gorgeous face.

  Before I could register anything, he swept me up in a passionate embrace, taking all my breath away. Reality slipped away from me for a brief moment as I indulged in my heart’s desires.

  “Paul…” I pushed him away, as much as it pained me to do so. “You can’t…”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m with Scott now.”

  Hurt and confusion spread across his features likes wildfire. “Since when?”

  “Since you left.”

  “Oh.” He stepped away, his voice barely audible. “Have you…?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  He nodded, staring at his shoes. He glanced up at me, a slight glisten hazing over his eyes. “I think I should go.”

  I nodded, my own tears threatening to spill.

  He walked out the door, shoulders sagging and head down. A little piece of me went with him.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sunday morning, I spoke briefly with Scott, who informed me his father wanted to talk business with him so he would be tied up all day. Obviously playing the role of new and supportive girlfriend, I didn’t make a fuss, agreeing to his suggestion of dinner Monday evening.

  Today was Monday, and I sat at my desk, feeling somewhat heavy hearted. Molly had texted me this morning informing me she was off sick today, which to be quite honest, after Saturday, I was rather grateful for. Paul breezed past me with a beaming smile before calling me into his office. As he shut the door, my heart started pounding.

  “Hi,” he said. He looked at ease, the usual cool, calm, and collected man I’d first been so taken with.

  I smiled back but said nothing. He perched on the end of his desk as I took a seat in one of his chairs.

  He scratched his head, his eyes scanning the floor before he finally spoke. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. What do you want?”

  “I wanted to explain my behaviour to you.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Please, Kyra. Just listen?”

  I sighed, clicking my tongue as I crossed my arms over
my chest. I stared at my shoes, noticing the little scuffs on the sides. I’d have to get some boot polish on them to cover them up. After a minute’s silence, I glanced up at him. “Are you getting on with it or what?”

  He cleared his throat, pursing his lips before speaking. “On the Monday evening when I left here, before I…cut things off between us, I received a phone call.”

  I nodded, remembering that night. He had marched out of the office with an ashen face and his phone stuck to his ear.

  “Well, the purpose for that phone call was my father telling me there was someone of importance waiting to see me at the house.” He faltered before starting his next sentence. “The person who was waiting for me is a good friend of my father’s, and also happens to be in the club.”

  I raised my eyebrows, my mouth running dry at the thought of where this was going.

  “My father called in a favour from him many years ago, for me. As a result, he insists I meet this man every time he comes over to show my gratitude to him.”

  Taking slight relief in the fact he said this was a man, I let out my breath, not realising I’d been holding it until now. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as he continued.

  “This man, Mr. Peters, has a wife.”

  My heart rate spiked in an instant. A ball of nausea began brewing in my stomach. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the springing of tears. “Please, stop. I get the picture.”

  “Just listen.” He paused, taking a sip of water. I dared to open my eyes, watching his face crease into sadness as he spoke. “Mrs. Peters has quite a liking for me and when she comes over, she requests my…presence.”

  I choked back a sob, realising this was going where I thought it was. “Paul, please…”

  He ignored me. “Mrs. Peters requested me on Monday evening when she arrived at the house—”

  I stood up, my hands shaking. “I don’t need to hear this.”

  He stood up with me, blocking my path to the door. “But I refused.”

  A wave of relief hit me. I sat back down, forcing myself to listen to the rest.

  “My father was not amused in the slightest, nor were Mr. and Mrs. Peters. After much arguing, Mr. Peters announced unless I did as his wife wished, he would find a way to…undo what he’d helped me with years ago.”

  My jaw dropped open. His statement left me speechless.

  “So I had to…go ahead with their wishes.”

  I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to force unwanted images out of my mind.

  “My father knew why I refused Mrs. Peters and was livid. I had no choice but to do what I did to you. My hands were tied from all sides. I did what I thought was best for you.”

  I let out a sob, my chest heaving, and my head reeling with this information overload. He bent down, placing his hands on my arms. I flicked my eyes to his, those beautiful blue eyes sweeping me up in the notion of me and him once more.

  “I’m sorry, Kyra.” He tilted my chin up with a gentle touch. “I couldn’t…be with you after I’d had to do that. I spent two days convincing myself I was doing the right thing. The only way I could make it happen was to be cruel to you. I’m sorry.”

  Hot tears slid down my cheek, the information replaying itself over and over again like a painful roundabout.

  “But that’s what you do,” I said, my voice sounding weak and pathetic. “You go with other people and all of that. I don’t understand.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “Don’t you remember Tessa?”

  I blushed as I let out a half sob, half laugh, nodding.

  “Didn’t you wonder why I didn’t touch her?”

  I thought about the situation again and shook my head.

  “Because I didn’t want to touch anyone else.” He moved his hands to my knees, my skin heating to new degrees under his touch. “I may have said I don’t do relationships, but that was one to me. I wasn’t having sex with anyone else. That was my commitment—I just didn’t want to admit it.”

  My tears sprung free as I attempted a nervous laugh. “What kind of fucked up relationship is that?”

  He gave me a cheeky smile and wiped my tears away. “I’ve not had a relationship for a long time, I’ve told you that before. Give me a break, it’s been a while.”

  I smiled, finding myself silently begging for him to wrap me up in his arms. Why hadn’t he just told me this before? So much heartache, and for what?

  “So what’s the deal with this Mr. Peters? What did he do?”

  His smile faded as he raked a hand through his hair. “Mr. Peters is a judge.”

  “What? Why would you need a favour from a judge?”

  His eyes flitted around the room and he drew in a deep breath. “Remember my ex I told you about? The one who cheated on me?”

  I nodded, dread filtering through me at what was going to be said next.

  “Well, I caught her in bed with my best friend. To cut a long story short, I chased them across a road whereby they were hit by an oncoming lorry. I was up for manslaughter. Mr. Peters made it all go away.”

  My head spinning in a million different directions, I fell against the sturdy back of the chair as I listened to the confession of my boss, my ex-lover, being a killer.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Paul’s entire confession of the events that occurred that day left my mind boggling at his parents’ ridiculous logic.

  The exact details turned out to be rather tragic. Cassie, his ex, had been his first love, hence his strong emotions of finding her with his best friend, Daniel. After running down the street away from Paul, Daniel had turned round to talk to him as they reached the road end. The talk hadn’t gone well, which had resulted in Paul punching Daniel in the face. His sudden hit sent Daniel sprawling back into the road where Cassie ran after him. Unfortunately, in this moment, a lorry came over the slight hill they were on. The driver had no time to brake, his fully loaded truck obliterating both of them in an instant.

  Nightmares haunted him for years, along with the phantom feeling of their matter splattering onto his face as he could do nothing but watch in horror. His parents felt it was jealousy issues that had been the primary cause of the situation. As such, they then demanded he join their lifestyle. Wracked with guilt, he could do nothing but follow their wishes after they made the entire situation disappear.

  As the years passed him by, seeing married couples sharing each other with strangers had left him with little doubt it wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted for himself and a partner. Therefore, he’d kept himself single with the firm belief his jealousy issues were too deep to even start a relationship. The psychological damage his parents had unwittingly caused was unreal.

  I glanced into his captivating eyes, my heart melting already. “So, what are you saying?”

  “I can’t not have you in my life.”

  My heart soared like a helium balloon being left to float sky high.

  “But I can’t offer you what you want.”

  My balloon popped, reality hitting me once again. “Oh.”

  “I can’t give you what you want from a relationship, Kyra. It’s so complicated with my parents…and over my dead body would I let you become a part of that club. I can just about deal with you being with one guy but not…”

  “I get it.”

  He traced a finger down my cheek, sending shivers through me. “You have no idea how badly I want you.” He pressed his lips to mine, and tears sprung from behind my closed eyes. He broke our embrace, cutting through my moment of bliss. “Can you promise me something?”

  I opened my eyes to see his deep blue eyes glazing over with water. “What?”

  “Please don’t make that one guy Scott.”

  “What?”

  “He’s not right for you. You deserve someone good and decent. If I can’t make you happy, then I want to see you with someone who can make you happy. Someone who deserves you and appreciates how special you are.”

  Anger boiled inside me in an i
nstant. “I beg your pardon? So you tell me you want me but can’t give me what I want. Then you demand I don’t be with a guy who can give me what I want and, excuse you, does actually make me happy?”

  “Sorry. I just…I don’t like him.”

  “Well, I do.” I stood up too sharply, the chair falling to the floor behind me. “He’s charming, kind, gentle, and considerate. He makes me laugh and looks after me. He texts me constantly and I like that. He has a lot of qualities you don’t.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. Oh.”

  “Does he make you feel raw passion though? Does he make your temperature rise from just a touch?”

  He reached out and touched my arm. My breath hitched as my skin sizzled from his touch. I couldn’t deny Scott didn’t affect me in the same way Paul did, but Scott had qualities Paul didn’t. Why couldn’t I just mix and match their qualities and create my perfect man?

  “Does he turn you on like I did?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That has nothing to do with you.”

  Images of me and Paul lost in our moments of intense lust and desire flooded my mind, reminding me Scott wasn’t like that. I’d never have the furious, raw passion with him that I’d shared with Paul.

  I broke away from his touch, backing away from the hot tingles he gifted me with. “He’s the complete opposite of you and I like that.”

  “Okay. Whatever makes you happy.”

  ***

  That had all been nearly three weeks ago. It all still replayed over and over in my mind. The knowledge that the man I had so badly wanted also wanted me gnawed at me daily. I found myself back at square one, reminding myself all the time he couldn’t give me what I wanted.

  Scott and I had grown closer over the last few weeks, which had made it easier to bury the thoughts of Paul. Seeing each other every night changed the whole dynamic of our relationship as it started to turn into something more serious. Every Friday, he would send a bunch of beautiful flowers to my office, deep scowls creasing Paul’s handsome face. He tried several times a week to talk me out of my flourishing relationship but always hit the same brick wall. I refused to listen to his guy sense, which told him Scott was bad news.