“I thought I knew you, but you're not the man I thought you were, not by a long shot. I won't let you hurt me anymore, Brady. You've taken every last shred of self respect I had, and I let you. To let you back in would be to open myself up to the possibility of more heartache and pain, and the possibility that you'll yank the rug of security right out from under me again” She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes, and ran tremulous hands through her saturated hair. Her voice was rife with disappointment, and shame.
“God, the endless pain you've caused, and all because you're so damn selfish. Maybe I wouldn't have listened, but the right thing to do was to give me a fair shot. You can't make up for this, not if you gave me the Taj Mahal in the color of my choice.
“What I can't come to terms with is why I still love you. What kind of self esteem do I have that I would love you, even after all you've done? Why aren't I able to hate you like I should? Why, Brady? Why?”
Without waiting for an answer, she rose and fled to the house, slamming the door behind her.
His body shook in defeat. Brady knew he'd had to hear in her words how she had suffered. This was a result of what he had done to her and their marriage. It was the worst possible punishment for him, worse than a year in a trailer, and a month with Pricilla could have ever been. He had broken her, his wife, the one woman he'd always loved with a fierceness that bordered insanity.
He would never have allowed another human being to hurt her this way, to defile her very nature. Yethe had done it. He'd lied to her and betrayed her. He had broken countless promises and vows that could never be given back. He had blemished their love, and sullied their marriage because he needed something he couldn't ask for. Now it was time to pay up, and the piper was calling.
* * * *
Pricilla was utterly desolate as she sat beside Brady in the park. She had failed miserably. Tears of frustration fell from her cheeks and disappeared into the puddles on the pavement. Everybody was crying now and all because she was the most hideous angel ever! She didn't care about what failing this mission meant for her; only that Brady and Melina were in a bigger mess than they'd been in when she started.
Pricilla had heard clearly what Melina said about her. A knife in her gut couldn't have hurt more, but then the truth always hurt. Brady hadn't spoken a word in his defense, not even in anger. His ego was bruised, no doubt, but the lost-puppy-dog thing was eating her from the inside out.
“Hey, Cowboy.” She softly called him what had become her pet name for him, chucking him under the chin.
“Aw hell, Brady, I'm sorry for everything I screwed up. I told the Big Guy I suck at this angel thing.”Like that's any consolation. She laid her hand on his and squeezed tightly.
Brady didn't move a muscle. Hoarsely he said, “It's not your fault, Pricilla. I did this to my life, to Melina. I thought if I could show her how much I loved her and missed her, she would let me come back home. She's right you know...” His voice broke. “Shedoes deserve better. I am the scum of the earth.
“You know what's funny? I haven't even given that woman another thought until I saw her today. I only slept with her that one time, but I haven't thought once about the pleasure I thought it was bringing me, only the crap afterward. The idea of Melina with someone else would kill me, Priscilla.” He blew out a shaky sigh. “Now I know, at least in that respect, exactly how she feels. Melina shouldn't trust me. I don't know if I could ever trust her after something like that. I swear I will never do anything like that again, but those are just words now. You heard her; she hates my guts.” He expelled a puff of air, his head hung low.
“No,” Pricilla corrected fiercely. “I heard her say she loves you, but she can't figure out why.
“I heard her loud and clear, Cowboy. She hurts right now, Brady, because she couldn't for all this time, at least not out loud. Let her hurt, and the healing will begin. I do know this; Melina loves you, always, no matter what you've done. That much has always been her destiny. What she can't figure out is why.
“You're a contradiction in terms my friend, all responsible one minute, and then going off and doing something that wasn't like you at all. Evenyou didn't feel like you. When you fell from grace, you fell hard, honey. Now she has to be able to allow you to make a mistake, even one as big as this. Melina doesn't like mistakes because in her mind it means you're just as bad as me, and she can't live with that. She ran as far from me as she could when she married you, and I let her run, straight into the arms of respectability.”
The still of the night was eerie compared to the havoc the storm had wreaked. The silence was heavily laden with Brady's misery. He curled his big hand into hers and held on. Warmth flooded Pricilla's heart, and just this once she'd let it have its way, she'd savor it, in fact.
Soon the time would come when the bright prism of light would carry her back to Verbena; she felt it in her bones, in the slight hum of electricity strumming through her veins. As with all missions, this one too must end. Before it did she had to make at least this much right with Brady, so that when she left him he knew she was looking out for him too, not just Melina.
“Brady, do me a favor, okay? Don't beat yourself up anymore. I know you messed up, and I had one hell of a ride never letting you forget it. Don't misunderstand me, it was a doozy but you're not really a bad guy, just misguided. You didn't get what you wanted the right way, but I know, right here...” she placed her well-manicured hand over his heart, “...you love my daughter. Why else would you have put up with me, in life and in death?” Pricilla's wry smile played around her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.
“Accept what you did, and move on to whatever is next.” Pricilla pointed skyward, and didn't even notice the chip in her polished nail. “He forgives you, and He wants you to learn from your mistake, not punish yourself anymore. Just shoot for being the best person you can be. If He could find something good inme, He can find it in just about anyone.” Good gravy, she was starting to sound like an episode of ‘Touched By An Angel.’ She scowled at that.
Brady knew he had lost it all now. Any hope he'd harbored was left under the big maple tree in their back yard. Melina had made it abundantly clear that she was moving on without him, no matter how hard he clung to the hope that she wouldn't.
He squeezed Pricilla's hand one more time, before he let go with reluctance, and stood. Pricilla watched his back. Defeat screamed with every step he took. Then she heard his truck roar to life and he was out of sight.
Under the harsh glow of the streetlamp, she fell on her knees right there on the pavement, and clasped her hands together to form a steeple.
Oh Lord,she silently prayed, with more conviction than ever before.Please don't let them hurt anymore. I know, I know what You're thinking; I hated the ground Brady Campbell walked on. But I hated him because he gave Melina the things I didn't, and I resented his holier-than-thou attitude. I was glad that he screwed up, ‘cause then he couldn't play Mr. High and Mighty anymore. But I swear I never wanted to see him mess up at Melina's expense.
Now I know I didn't help Melina, either. She went out of her way to be just the opposite to me, and in the end her marriage paid the price for my mistakes because it meant letting go of the tight reins she had on respectability. I did that to her, Lord. Me, Pricilla Watson. Loose-lipped, flighty, all-round good-time girl, and downright unreliable to top everything off. I'm sorry, Lord, for being the worst mother on the face of this planet. I'm sorry I embarrassed her, and wasn't there for her when she got home from school. I'm sorry I didn't bake cookies, and do homework. I'm just plain sorry for it all. I don't care if I never get to Upper-Level status; I'll go on missions for eternity, with a smile on my face if you'll just give Brady one more chance. Melina needs Brady! Don't leave her alone. Please, Lord, please. Amen."
Amen indeed, thought Verbena.
* * * *
Celia sat in silence on Melina's bed as plump tears of compassion coursed down her cheeks, and splattered on her jean-clad thighs.
This was what should be, and in that she found a small measure of comfort. She wanted to hold her friend then, and soothe the undeniable agony of torn and tattered love and trust, but she knew with uncanny conviction that Melina must empty her pain in order to begin to fill up again. Celia bit the inside of her mouth, fighting the urge to shake Melina, as she wished she had long ago.
Brady loved Melina. She was more sure of that than ever before. Even with his faults, even though he had hurt her. If Melina could only see that mistakes came and went, but the love Brady felt for her was timeless.
Chapter 9
Melina wept with the anguish of lost innocence pulling at her from the depths of her soul. Her heart was shattered and broken beyond repair. She gasped for air, huge gulping breaths, as she rocked on the hard floor, to and fro, her arms wound tightly around her knees, ankles crossed. Curls shrouded her face. She was bereft of all but this deep sadness that suffused her every pore. She had run from this, had tried to hide, but the ever-growing agony and fear that had invaded her world had wrapped its talons about her with black claws.
She had nothing left in her to hold this sorrow at bay; she succumbed to the unbearable agony she had been able to share with no one. She cursed Brady the man, who had allowed this endless suffering, as she wailed mournfully. Her mind raced with questions she didn't have answers for. How could she have married someone just like her mother?
Why couldn't it just be like it was? Waves of hopelessness washed over her, as she realized it couldn't. But was Brady really like her mother, or had she clumped everyone that did her wrong into one judgmental heap of wrong doers? Was it asking too much to have honesty and fidelity in a marriage? No, but was it right to shut someone you loved out, in your desire to be perfect?
No, no, no! She wouldn't accept blame for this!
But had Brady been unfaithful out of some misguided attempt to find the love and affection he lacked from her? She hadn't intentionally shut him out, but she was always afraid her failure to provide them with children made her less of a woman. Her primary focus had been to conceive and do it well, to create the kind of family she had wished for as a child. To belong somewhere. Anywhere.
Melina had spent night after night with friends because Pricilla would forget to pick her up while she was off painting the town red with her latest boyfriend. As a teenager, she'd spent nights alone, and fended for herself while Pricilla went out on some new escapade. Constant upheaval had become a way of life for her; she never firmly planted her feet anywhere for long before Pricilla decided greener pastures lay elsewhere.
So, when the opportunity arose to make a home and have a family, she'd jumped at it, desperate to create what she never had as a child. She'd focused on getting pregnant and when she couldn't, she hid the hurt and shame by burying herself at work. It filled the black void of her inability to conceive. She had to be perfect at something and work gave her the satisfaction of respectability.
Now, Melina clearly remembered Brady telling her they needed some time alone, just the two of them. But she had dismissed him. And she recalled how Brady was always fondling her inopportunely, and she would swat him away, because making love had become an act of failure to create rather than the joining of two bodies for the sole purpose of the joy it brought.
Melina had worked tirelessly at being a good person, but she hadn't worked as hard at being a good wife. She'd cooked and cleaned; every physical need was addressed. But Brady's emotional needs were not. Before the night in the alleyway, when was the last time she had initiated any physical contact with her husband?
Brady was an affectionate, loving man, and he showered her with emotional gifts. He didn't profess his love in words, but he had shown her. When had she become so consumed with becoming pregnant that she forgot about Brady, not to mention herself, and her needs as a woman? Focusing on anything other than being perfect, in her mind at least, meant that she was just as negligent as Pricilla.
After a while, when she wasn't looking, Brady had given up. His requests for time with her had gone ignored for so long, he just stopped asking. For the first time, she felt sharp pangs of guilt. Not for his infidelity,never , but for not making the time for the two of them to connect, and stay connected.
It might still have happened,a small voice warned in her head.
Yes, she answered back vehemently, it might well have, but then I could have left this relationship knowing I had given myself fully without any regrets. Could she do that now? Could she overlook his having been with another woman, and not hold a grudge against him? Was losing the love of her life worth not forgiving him? Did she love him enough to accept her role in the decline of her marriage?
Yes, there was no denying it to herself anymore. She loved him, no matter what he had done. The internal battle she'd fought over loving Brady, flaws and all, had two endings. She could divorce him and let go. The pain of loving him and not having him would pass in time.
Or she could try to salvage this mess, with the knowledge that no one is perfect, and forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. It wouldn't be easy; she would struggle to trust him again fully, but if she didn't give this a shot, she knew to the depths of her soul, that she would always regret it. Sheknew that suddenly, with startling clarity.
Melina sat up straight, with the flood of realization crystal clear, as though it were tangible. She knew what had to be done, and she would attack the task with the ferocity she had attacked denying it.
* * * *
Celia watched her from the corner of the room with a bewildered gaze. Melina hurriedly got up from the floor, straightening her wet dress. She held a shaky hand out to Celia. Celia grabbed onto it like a lifeline, clutching her friend.
“Help me,” Melina whispered. Celia's heart clenched painfully. If only she could.
“I willalways help you, you know that, Melina. Whatever you need, tell me and I'll do it,” Celia promised, tightening her hold on Melina's hand.
“Help me find something to wear?” she asked.
Find something to wear?Did she mean for her trip to the loony bin? After that wave of emotion Melina had just displayed, Celia was convinced she was riding the crest of insanity.
Melina caught Celia's confused blank stare. “I mean something to wear when you want to seduce the love of your life.” Melina smiled, her green eyes seemed to smolder with things to come.
Celia grinned then, too. She threw her arms around Melina, hugging her tightly.
* * * *
Melina stood at the door of the decrepit trailer, peering in at him from behind the ripped screen. She stood before him solemnly, back straight, shoulders squared. Under the soft glow of lamplight, the inky night outlined her small frame. The early spring breeze caught her curls, and made her silk blouse cling to the outline of her breasts. Her green gaze was somber, determined, devouring his powerful torso, the long line of his well-muscled thighs encased in skintight jeans.
She no longer fought this powerful current of electricity that drew her to Brady. She succumbed to it, letting go of inhibition, caution and fear. Her legs were unsteady, but she firmly grasped the handle of the door and swung it open.
The breeze caught it, and flung it hard against the side of the trailer. As she stepped inside, her gaze never wavered.
Brady's intense blue eyes searched hers. She held his gaze. It was hot and wanton, revealing his hunger. She reached out a trembling hand and caressed his hard jaw. He broke then, reaching for her. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of her upper arms, and she trembled at the power in his hands. Gently he pulled her to him, and molded her hips to his, drawing a sharp gasp of surprise from her. The rigid line of male flesh bulged, pushing at her, straining against his zipper.
Melina walked a fine line. It had been so long since she'd come to him with nothing but love in her heart. Her body was ready to explode on impact, every nerve ending on fire, rubbed raw with anticipation.
With a slow careful descent, Brady leaned closer until their li
ps almost met. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip in nervous anticipation and he gently caught it with his teeth. Nibbling and sucking, he elicited small moans of delight from deep in her throat. Molten heat stabbed at her breasts, coiling in her belly. Her aching nipples formed hard peaks jabbing at his chest, begging to be touched. He kept his hands at her waist, caressing the gentle swell of her hips. Melina encircled his wrists with thumb and index finger, and ran them up and down his arm, simulating the act that was soon to follow.
Brady groaned and pressed his mouth to hers; she savored the spicy taste of his firm lips. With gentle pressure, he slid his tongue into her mouth and she quivered with anticipation. She returned his kiss by suckling his tongue, and wrapping her lips around it, sliding her mouth back and forth. Brady stiffened, and electricity raced to her cunt. He broke away just long enough for them to find the cushiony comfort of the worn couch. She didn't know how she got there and she didn't care, as familiar hands led her with renewed passion. She followed willingly.
He lay beside her and with a sigh, held her close as though memorizing the feel of her soft curves pressed to him. Her body molded to his perfectly. She flung a thigh over his, and he ran his hand along her bare leg. His teeth grazed the column of her neck, and she squirmed beneath him, pushing her shaking body upward to grind against his male hardness.
Painstakingly, he moved one finger to the front of her silk blouse. Tenderly, he stroked between her breasts, lightly running his hands over the smooth material, brushing her ribcage, and stopping each time he came to the soft swell of throbbing breast. Her skin was on fire with the need to feel his lips on her; she wrapped her arms around his broad back, and reveled in the hardness of corded muscle and sizzling heat.
He cupped a breast in each hand, and through the thin material, his lips sought each nipple, nibbling and sucking, making the silk wet so that it clung to her as she arched her back, cradling his head. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. Impatiently shrugging out of her shirt, she tore a button or two along the way.
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