Scars of Love

by Lindsey Hart

  Evie slammed her fist down on the table, startling Della. “Yes, but all those things happened for a reason. His mom is a given. She never had time for him anyway. His friends though, he drove them away. He never wanted to see anyone.”

  “Could you blame him?”

  “Yes, I could and I still do. He’s brought most of this on himself. The burns are one thing, disgusting as they are, but he makes himself unattractive by the way he acts.” Evie’s eyes flashed with something very near hatred before she glanced away, towards the busy street.

  The shame that overwhelmed Della was instant and complete. Shame not for herself, but for her sister. And the fact that she was the one dressed as Evie, acting like Evie, being Evie. Her sister didn’t appear to have an ounce of compassion left for the man she had once loved.

  “Well some of that might be true,” Della admitted. “But don’t you know how PTSD works? I mean, some of what Thomas feels, he can’t control. His entire world changed in that accident. Not only does he relive it all the time, in his waking hours and his sleeping ones, the terror, the pain, but his appearance changed as well. You know how cruel people can be. He just needs time. Time and some kind of affirmation that you still want him.”

  Eve snorted. “We’re out of time and I certainly don’t, nor will I ever, want to live with him again. I said I was worried about what he might do if I walked out, but the truth is, Della, I was worried about what I would do if I stayed. What I would do or say.”

  “So, you want your life back, you keep saying that, but you don’t want Thomas. You want the quality of life he provided, just without him there.”

  “If you want to hear me say it, then yes, that’s exactly right. I stuck it out with him the entire time he was in the hospital. I saw things that no one should ever have to witness. I was there for him. He’s never going to be the same man I once knew. He wasn’t even before the accident and now it’s a hundred times worse. So yes, I want the quality of life. The things I’ve also worked so hard to achieve, but I don’t want him.”

  “Did you ever consider the possibility that you might have changed as well?” Della wished she could take back the sharp question as soon as she’d asked it. Evie’s face twisted with anger. She clamped her lips shut and said nothing at all. Della finally reached across the table and wrapped her hand around her sister’s. She stared at their fingers, so alike, long, tapered, delicate. Evie’s engagement ring pressed into both their hands. “Look, Evie. I’m working on it. I really am. I don’t have the same level of… of whatever it is you feel towards Thomas. I want to help him and I really am seeing some positive changes. He goes outside. He’s agreed to therapy. He went for dinner at mom and dad’s. We’re slowly getting there and I don’t want to ruin it all by just walking out. It would be easier for you to move on with your life if Thomas is rational and understands why.”

  “Ya,” Evie muttered. “I guess so.” She pulled her hand away, finished off the last of her latte and stood. “I better get back to work. Because, you know, people can’t wait for their damn lights.”

  “I know,” Della assured her. “I know.”

  She sat by herself at the table, watching her sister walk away, her form growing smaller and smaller until she eventually turned the corner that would take her the two blocks to the lighting store.

  Della picked up her tea, now cold, and sipped at it. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and burned the back of her throat. What she hadn’t told her sister was that Thomas was never going to be rational. She didn’t know if she was making anything better or making everything worse. Was she going to undo whatever forward motion she’d created when she announces she was leaving?

  How could she just up and tell Thomas?

  She loved him far too much to just walk away, especially now. She’d loved him from afar so long she wanted just a little more time to love him up close. That wasn’t the worst part. Not by a long shot. No, the wretched truth was that Thomas was falling in love with her all over again.

  CHAPTER 12

  Thomas

  Home. That word didn’t mean what it once did, but it was like everything else. Slowly getting back to what he knew before his life had been ripped away.

  “Forty-four dollars,” the cab driver, a young man who was unendingly impatient, reminded Thomas sharply from the front.

  Thomas nodded. He met the cabby’s eyes in the rear-view mirror and the man looked quickly away. Oh well. At least he picked me up in the first place. It beats standing downtown, stranded outside the shrink’s office.

  He shifted as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He peeled off a couple bills and handed them up to the front. “I don’t need change.” He couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. It wasn’t the cab itself or even the driver. He just hated the trapped, closed in, heart pounding, palms sweating feeling he had whenever he got in a vehicle.

  Thomas happened to glance up as he walked up the driveway to the front door. The sky was blue, that cloudless, crystalline blue that could have been mistaken for an unending body of water if the viewer wasn’t aware that they were looking up and not down. The sun was too bright to look at, but the rays that filtered down were warm and inviting.

  It has been a very long time since Thomas bothered to notice the hue of the sky or the feel of the sun. The breeze that stirred and dried the sweat standing out on the parts of his body that still had the ability to produce sweat. He sat down on the front step and looked out over the neighborhood.

  It was quiet. Most of the houses were new construction, built less than ten years ago. Their own was five years old. The neighborhood couldn’t be called anything but affluent. Most people in the area were doctors or lawyers, worked stocks, that kind of thing.

  He hadn’t wanted to move here. He would have preferred a strip of land somewhere outside the city, a smaller house and a dog. Maybe two dogs. Hell, even a couple cats would have been better than the pristine silence that was their existence. Or had been, before the accident.

  Now it seemed a dog wasn’t out of the question.

  Which brought his mind back around to Evie.

  If he’d changed, then she’d changed as well. It was like the fires of that wreck, the flickering yellow and orange, blue and white tendrils that licked up the outside of his leg, curled around, over his chest and seared his arm, had done something to her as well. Changed her, for the better.

  That day in the kitchen it was like a switch had been flipped. She’d been so hard before. So unloving and often distant, cold, even unkind. The way she’d looked at him as he lost his shit completely, it was like from that point on she’d decided compassion was the better way. Like that softness could actually lead them back towards love.

  Thomas was about to go inside when he spotted Evie’s car driving down the block. She neared, pulled up in the driveway. She didn’t fit her car into the double car garage. It was now all hers since he’d never replaced his vehicle and had no plans for doing so. She got out, leaving the black sedan to bake under the hot sun.

  Which was definitely unlike her. As with everything else, she’d been very particular about how she cared for that car.

  “Tommy!” Her lips arched into a genuine, dazzling smile and Thomas found it a little hard to breathe. “Please tell me you went to that session and didn’t just ditch and do something else for a few hours.”

  He chuckled softly under his breath. She approached, the sun at her back, framing her beautiful face, illuminating her flaxen hair like a halo. She’d found a plain black maxi dress in her closet, ditched the usual blazer or cardigan and let her arms see some sun. She’d opted for flip-flops again, must have gone and bought a couple pairs since the ones she had on were black with little sparkly gemstones in the straps. He’d never seen them before.

  Thomas shoved over on the step, giving her room to sit down. Even that surprised him. Eve hated to get her clothes dirty. He honestly hated it too, given how much they cost. “No, I didn’t skip out. I went.�
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  “How was it?” Her eyes shone with such light and there was such pride on her face, it made his heart ached.

  “Fine. Ya-I guess so. The guy was old. Seventy or so. He’s pretty experienced. I think maybe you were right. Maybe it’s going to be okay.”

  “Yah? Well, I’m never going to say I told you so because the only thing I want is for you to…” She trailed off. Thomas wasn’t sure how to finish her sentence and Evie looked uncertain.

  “I get it. I know what you mean.”

  Evie nodded. Her smile was gone, but it was replaced with serenity. Her pale blue eyes gripped and held his. She reached out and took his hand in hers. He froze, realizing right away it was his bad one. His hand had taken the brunt of the flames. The skin was gnarled and twisted, worse than any other part of his body.

  Eve traced one perfect finger over the broken, imperfect ridges. The whirls and dips, twists and turns, the unnaturally smooth planes and the rough patches. Her eyes never left his. They shone with uncertainty, fear, regret, but overall, overriding everything else was the raw, undiluted love she felt.

  “He said something to me…” Thomas whispered. He didn’t want to continue, felt his throat close up.

  “Okay.” Eve’s fingers kept right on stroking his hand, so very gently.

  “He said that-it wasn’t my fault.”

  Eve’s face changed as a look of bewilderment flooded her features. She frowned. “What do you mean, it wasn’t your fault? The accident? Of course it wasn’t your fault… you swerved to miss that woman. She was driving on the wrong side of the road. You saved her life by not hitting her head on. That’s what everyone said…”

  He shook his head slowly, his chest far too tight for the emotion flooding it. “He just said it wasn’t my fault. Said it over and over again.”

  “What wasn’t your fault?” Her hand stilled on his, gripping it now.

  “I… everything. The accident. The flames. The burns. The pain. My life now, how everything is changed… the fact that I-that you and I-that you don’t want this any longer.”

  “This?” Her eyes searched his face, burned through him with the intensity of feeling. Sorrow. Love. Panic. Relief. He didn’t know what he saw there, or what was more prevalent.

  “Let’s go inside,” Evie said huskily. She took his hand and pulled him up as she stood. She turned, punched her key in the lock and stepped through.

  He hesitated. The day was so pretty, so right, beautiful, and he’d ruined it all by voicing words that were best left unspoken, at least for now. He cursed himself silently. Cursed all of it.

  “Tommy.”

  His head snapped up. The way Evie said his name, it was like she used to. That thickness in her voice, the tenderness, and love overlaid with the thickness of desire.

  “Come here. I want you to come here.” She blinked and he knew he wasn’t imagining it. The light of hard want, of undiluted need. He didn’t know if either of them were ready, but he knew he wanted her. He wanted her like he’d always wanted her.

  She held out her hand and slowly, so very slowly, he stepped inside the house and shut the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 13

  Della

  Della had her out. It should have been easy. He gave her the opportunity to tell him that she was done. That she wanted to leave. That she didn’t want him. Thomas laid it all on the line. Himself. Their life.

  She should have taken that option. The easy way out. But she couldn’t.

  I’m sorry Evie. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. She’d imagined this for years. Closing her hands around Tommy’s neck, caressing his shoulders, the hard planes, and masculine ridges, the tenderness of his lips on hers… she hadn’t let herself get beyond it. It was wrong. It was always wrong.

  It still was now, especially now, but she couldn’t stop herself. There was no longer any holding back or denying herself.

  He needed this. And so did she.

  Thomas’ dark eyes stared straight into hers. He looked through her, saw straight into her soul. “He said it wasn’t my fault.” He coughed loudly to clear his throat. He leaned against the front door and closed his eyes. “But it was. It was my fault that I wasn’t the man you needed. I went away… I went away for such a long time.”

  “You’re wrong,” Della whispered. Her traitorous feet carried her forward, closer to that closed door and the man who leaned so heavily against it. “You may have gone away, but you’re here now.” She closed the distance between them with a final step. She leaned in until Tommy’s breath was warm against her cheek. She found his ear, the good side of his face and forced out words she should never have spoken. “You’re here now and so am I.”

  He moved, the action happening as though in slow motion. He turned his face and his lips met hers, hot, hungry, searing, sipping and tasting, nipping, biting, furious and infinitely gentle all at once. His hands came up to frame her face, the hand that felt everything and the hand the fire had deadened. They touched her the same. Caressed her cheek, warm, soft and ragged in turns, but utterly alive.

  She came alive under his fevered touch. Her body burned as the rawness of her hunger overcame her.

  Just for right now, he’s mine. He’s mine to love and care for and prove that he’s still beautiful.

  He kissed her breath right out of her lungs, swallowed the whimpers drawn from her throat. His lips were alive on hers, claiming, teaching, awakening. She answered every single movement with one of her own, deepening the kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth and tasting him, stroking him.

  God, she wanted to stroke him everywhere else. To touch the parts of him that as his fiancé, she had a right to.

  His hand moved away from her cheek, shifting to the back of her neck. A shiver of anticipation ripped her up spine at the heat of his fingers.

  Tommy’s hand stroked lower, leaving her neck. He caressed the rounded globe of her breast, his finger skimming over the nipple that hardened instantly. Della gasped for air as his lips left hers. She let out a muffled cry of surprise when his hands circled her waist. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

  She didn’t have to ask where he was going when he started walking. He carried her through the living room and down the hall towards their bedroom.

  No, his bedroom. Not mine at all.

  She couldn’t stop him. Her hunger, her need, was as great as his own. Neither of them could have stopped.

  The blinds were still drawn from that morning. Dull light trickled through. Della looked up into Thomas’ face when he set her down gently. Her bare feet hit the cool hardwood. Tommy’s eyes glowed, alive with the same hard intensity she felt deep in her own soul.

  He bent his head and claimed her lips again in the most perfect kiss she’d ever tasted. She’d fantasized for so long about what this would feel like and now it was real. It was real and wondrous, and she’d remember it for the rest of her life.

  Her pulse hammered hard as Tommy’s hands started to strip away her dress. Her mind went blank, black spots danced behind her closed lids.

  Respond. Touch him.

  Her mind whirled. It was so hard to force her limbs to move. This was real. All of it. Every single moment.

  She came crashing back when Tommy broke the kiss. She realized she was almost fully naked, stripped down to the black lace bra and panties that were her sister’s. She shook away that thought. It brought her up short, made her hesitate.

  Tommy froze. His eyes slowly changed, the hot, liquid passion icing over. “You don’t want to do this, do you?” He bent, scooping her dress off the floor. “Here. It’s alright.”

  “No!” Della backed up a step. “What do you mean?” Her eyes searched his, waiting for an answer.

  “It’s alright. I get it.”

  “You don’t get it,” she whispered hoarsely. “You don’t get it at all. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Thomas. Everything. Then. Now. Always.” She stepped forward, realizing he’d taken her momentary hesitation a
s a slight against himself. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t know what was worse. Stopping or not stopping. Either way, it was going to break her heart. She just needed to save his. To save Tommy’s.

  Her hand trembled as it landed on his jeans. She slowly worked the button until it was undone and slid down the fly. He froze, his eyes searching her face before she dropped them down to her hands.

  “I want you,” she said huskily. “I want you to undress and let me look at you.”

  “Evie…”

  Della froze at her sister’s name. She blinked hard. Just save Tommy. Save his heart. “No. Don’t say it. You are so much more than those scars. They don’t matter. You’re still beautiful. Tremendous. Sexy. The man that I want more than any other in the world.”

  Thomas hesitated for a minute. She thought he was actually going to deny her, then his hands slowly worked his jeans down his legs. He stripped off his t-shirt next and stood, wearing only his black boxers.

  Della gulped. Her body burned with need. Wave after ferocious wave washed over her. This was real. She was really doing this. Her eyes slowly, unabashedly took in every single detail. Tommy looked past her, over her shoulder. He was obviously uncomfortable, but she needed that minute to memorize him, to burn every single detail into her mind, to shore up those memories for the lifetime she wouldn’t have him.

  He was incredible, even with the scars. His shoulders were still broad, his chest muscled even after his lengthy stay in the hospital. He was one of those men that could never quite manage to look bad, even if they lost weight and muscle tone. His limbs were long and sleek and naturally graceful, effortlessly athletic. The scars ran all the way down his one side. They curled over his leg, ran up his pelvis and chest, reached his neck and stopped at his cheek. The skin was twisted, the scars unnaturally smooth and ridged in turns throughout the entire length. The other side of his body was as wondrous as it always had been. He was a handsome man, the kind of man who would always look good to Della. Always.