Love, Lies and Shattered Hearts

by Carol May

  Shaking my head I say, “Ahh, in case you didn’t hear he is married. His wife can be the one to help him through the shit. I refuse to be the other woman. I’m just not that kind of person. It doesn’t matter how much I love him” taking a deep breath, swallowing hard, I finish “I do love him. I probably always will but he isn’t in a position to be with me.”

  “Excuse me for saying this but you sure didn’t stick around for him to explain, did you? Smacking the steering wheel, then saying in a tone that tells me he is mad, “Things are not always what they appear Charli. It isn’t my story to tell. I owe many things to Houston. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him. More than likely I would be in some back alley bar like so many veterans, trying to wash away the memory of the horrors we saw. Actually, I’ve said more than I have any right to say about Houston.”

  Pulling up to what appears to be a historic building, I am really shocked that something this old is in Selina. Holy cow, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time as I look at the outside of the building. Taking a very deep breath, I say, “Nash, I’m not sure about this. I don’t really know if I can get out. Does he know I’m coming?” Putting the SUV in park, he looks at me with his what the hell look.

  Looking across at Nash, I continue, “You sent a text and I thought maybe it was to him.”

  Shaking his head, he quickly and sincerely responds with, “Look Charli, I may not have a genius IQ but do you actually think I am an idiot. You’re right, the text I sent was to Houston but in no way did I mention your name. I do not have a death wish. Cause that is what anyone that mentions your name is taking a chance on.” Nash pulls out his phone and looks at it. Then he looks up at me with a grimace.

  As I put my hand on the handle to get out, Nash says, “Charli.” I look over at him to see a true look of concern on his face, “Yes?” Taking a deep breath, he says, “I never interfere with Houston and his women and believe me there have been a lot of them.”

  Tilting my head just a little, I say, “Ah, I already knew that but thanks for that, I guess.”

  Laying his left wrist over the steering wheel, he turns his body to me and lowers his sunglasses then says, “The part you didn’t let me say was, I have never seen him like this. Ever.” Holding up his hand to stop me from speaking, “I know he is married but there is a reason and it sure in hell isn’t love or respect. Just hear him and work things out. If it’s over it’s over. End it right. If you want to stay with him and work things out that way, then know what you’re getting. But please, for my sanity and everyone employed by him, calm him.” I sit for just a second before I open the door. “Alright. Where will I find him?

  “Top floor suite, 411. Here use this to get in.” He hands me his key card. I twist it over and over as I walk into The Maxwell Inn. I am nervous! I really am not sure I have ever been like this in my entire life. Both of my inner voices have retreated into bundles of nerves. I walk over to the elevator, enter and push four. Stepping out, onto the fourth floor, I stand. Look down the hall to find the suite and begin the slowest walk I am sure my body has ever took. My feet feel as if they weigh about a hundred pounds each. I find the door and just stand what seems like hours but I have no doubt it has only been seconds since I stopped. Lifting my hand in slow motion, my inner voice that represents my Midwest morals yells “DON’T DO IT!” The other side of me calmly says, “Open the door. Just reach out, insert the key and open the door.”

  One part of me is screaming this is such a mistake. Adamantly, I am doubting my earlier decision to come here but I understand that there must be some type of closure. When I told Nash that I was being honest. In order to begin to heal in any shape, form or fashion I must go through with this. What I do know is if I actually open this door, my heart will be fine. He has already shattered it. What more can he do to me?

  Pushing the door open into this plush suite, I scan the room, thinking Nash was mistaken, this room is empty. Just as I am turning around to leave, Houston's firm commanding voice says, “It’s about damn time you got back.” The man that I once thought I might spend the remainder of my life with enters the room, looking down at a piece of paper. He takes my breath away. His shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, his tie is loosened. “I will be ready to…” Stopping in his tracks, our eyes meet.

  “Not Nash. Sorry,” I say as we both stand frozen. My heart is racing a million miles an hour. We just stand here with our eyes locked. I have no idea how but the next thing my brain registers is the fact that I have the most powerful arms underneath my butt, my legs are wrapped around him with my back against the wall. Our mouths are locked in what I would call the deep throat kiss of the century as our tongues explore the other’s mouth. Turning and walking us through the outer room, into the bedroom, I can’t get close enough. I would crawl into his skin with him if I could. My hands have ached to feel him. His hair feels wonderful as I run my hands through the wavy chocolate lengths.

  Whispering, “Charli” He lets me go. I slide down his wonderfully hard body.

  “Houston.” I can’t keep my hands off of him, I run my hands up his arms. His hands feel wonderful on my waist. Raising my arms above my head, he strips my shirt off before my body registers it’s missing. The fact that his shirt was open at the neck when I entered the suite only makes it better for me. The urgency to have him inside me is increasing at such a rapid rate I feel as if I will implode any minute. Loosening his tie, he pulls it off matching the frantic way my hands are moving, “To hell with the buttons,” I mumbled between kisses as I jerk his shirt off. In true movie fashion, the buttons fly everywhere as my deep plunging bra is tossed. Houston’s mouth is on my breast before we land on the bed. Kissing his way down my stomach, he stops just above my jeans.

  With this pause, I realize nothing has changed. He is still married. “Houston, no we can’t do this. You are married.” Rolling off of me, he takes a deep breath, “Damn Charli, you know how to make me limp don’t you?”

  Standing up, he walks out of the room leaving me alone. As I rise from the bed, and begin looking for my clothes, my inner voices have combined to one, “Get up. You knew that when you came here. Now get us into the outer room and let’s at least talk to him if we aren’t going to have sex with him.” With all my clothes back on, I stop in front of the mirror, give myself the once over and exit the bedroom.

  I find him, standing looking out a window at what I have no idea. “Houston, I came here to talk not have sex.”

  Turning to face me, he says, “Charli, you are correct we need to talk.” Leading us into the sitting area, he motions for me to take a seat. I do as he moves to a chair across from me. Leaning back into the chair he smiles that panty melting smile of his. “I am glad you are here. How are you? I’ve been very worried.”

  “You’ve been worried about me? Really?”

  Looking at me with a frown on that handsome face, Houston says, “Yes, Baby believe it or not. I am not sure why you wouldn't believe it. I understand you will not be with me under the circumstances but Charli, you have absolutely no idea just how much I’ve worried about you.”

  “First off, don’t call me that. You lost that right. I am not your Baby.”

  Lifting his eyebrows in that way he does when he is aggravated about something. “Charli, then, can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, as long as you agree to answer the questions I want to ask you.” Holding my hand up, I continue, “No wait I forgot I should really be specific so let me restate that, you must agree to answer the questions I ask truthfully.”

  “Charli, I have always answered your questions truthfully.”

  “Can I believe that? After what I heard in Miami, I learned I don’t know you at all.”

  Rubbing his hand across his face, he says, “Charli, you know me better than any other person on Earth of that I can assure you. Let me be perfectly clear, I will not have a conversation about what you learned in Miami." Leaning toward me, Houston takes my hand in his. The heat of our touch sen
ds electric shocks across my already tensed body.

  He asks, "Now can I ask you the question I mentioned?”

  Trying to appear calm, I pray my voice won’t crack as I speak, “Yes, go ahead and ask."

  “Are you eating?”

  Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I answer, “That is the question you want to ask me? After everything that has transpired between us, you are wondering if I am eating. Yes, Houston, I’m eating.” I omitted the remainder of my thoughts. At least I am eating now.

  “You look like you have lost weight. When I had my hands on your waist, it felt like you have. I swear if you are lying to me, I will wring your neck.”

  “Really? Well, that would be just fine with me. You have wounded other parts of me why not my neck?” Standing up, I walk over to the window, seeing what he was probably looking at earlier, a really nice barn and stables behind the inn. “You are very observant, Mr. Donovan. To answer your question honestly, yes, I have lost weight. Before you ask, fifteen pounds.”

  “My God Charli, that isn’t healthy.”

  With a shrill laugh that really sounds more like a shriek my eyes are focused on some beautiful horses. Finally, I manage to respond, “Healthy? Healthy? You want to talk about healthy? Let me tell you about my health.” I begin to shake on the inside as I continue, “That night, I went to a liquor store and bought enough whiskey to drown my sorrows. During the days following my purchase, I made a discovery, no matter how much you drink, your sorrows don’t really drown. They are with you when you sober up. Then if you try to starve your sorrows, they are still there. I have no appetite, Houston. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Do you want me to continue sharing with you my healthy habits of late?”

  Coming over to stand behind me, he pulls me back against him, wraps his arms around me and says, “Charli, the only thing I ever was dishonest to you about was Penny.”

  Trying to pull away from him, I say, “Well, isn’t that a big enough lie? You conveniently failed to tell me about the marriage certificate you share with her. That is a huge dishonesty. Don't you think?”

  He responds, "Yes. There is nothing I can do about it. She refuses to sign the divorce papers." Tightening his arms around me he continues, “Please stay here in my arms while I tell you a story." With something close to sorrow in his voice, how could I move? I have never heard him speak like this. Finally, I agree.

  He continues, "It is a story about a young boy who thought the world was great. Then one day, it all fell apart. His parents divorced, I won’t go into the details but I will share it was horrible. I do not see him very often. Maybe, once a year, unless he wants something. The money came from my mother, who soon found out she couldn’t live without a man around. So she remarried. He stayed around a few years and then he was gone. Next, she moved in Carl. Carl had two sons of his own. Both were older than me and real bullies. Carl shared custody of his sons so they were only around on the weekends. Do you remember back in Miami I told you I learned at an early age to keep my doors locked?”

  Nodding my head that I remembered, he continues. "Well, Carl’s sons came on the weekends and let’s just say I learned to defend myself from them. They were also the reason my dishonesty began. I learned to create some places in my mind that I could escape to. I was nine when Mom divorced Carl. Along came some other men. Most ignored me. All they could see were the dollar signs attached to my Mother.”

  Houston’s phone rang a tone I recognized. Dropping his arms from around me, he moved across the room to answer it. “Charli, I need to take this call. I am going to step into the bedroom. Please assure me, you won’t leave.

  Looking at him, I say, “I promise Houston. I’ll be right here when you get off the phone.” Nodding at me he turns, as he walks into the bedroom hearing him speak just as he closes the door. My inner voice asks very calmly, “How long am I going to wait before I leave? I have heard enough of this lie. All this crap he is feeding me. Lies, all of it lies.

  Standing here, looking out this window at what almost seems to be a picture perfect view, I am not thinking about that man in the other room. I am focusing on how my conscience really takes on a life of it’s own. The influence my parents, family and friends had on me when I was growing up is definitely with me today. Then there is that part of me that just wants to throw all of that stuff away and live in the moment. If I could do that, I would be in his arms in bed forgetting what I know about him for just one night.

  Chapter 10

  “Charli, I’m sorry. I had to take that call.”

  Turning away from the window to face him, I nod my head saying, “Because Nash’s call was of an urgent nature, right?” With a little laugh, I continue “Don’t look so surprised Houston, I remember Nash’s ringtone. I will never hear a particular piece of Beethoven without thinking of Nash. Knowing how I left him downstairs I assume, he was calling to see if both of us are still alive. He was worried about me coming up.”

  As Houston crosses the room, to stand beside me, I realize it is taking every ounce of willpower that I can call upon to not run back into that bedroom and fling myself upon that bed. I want him! Actually, it isn’t a want but a need. I need him to be buried inside me. So deep, that when he makes that last driving plunge into me, it will not only send him over the edge into ecstasy but extinguish what I fearfully call my eternal burning flame for Houston Donovan.

  “Charli?”

  I feel the sparks radiate from the spot he has just touched on my elbow as he guides us to the chairs. I notice two bottles of water that I assume he brought in from the other room. I watch him as he opens the bottles handing one to me first and then taking a long drink from the other. The air between us holds a feeling of clumsiness that stems from neither of us knowing exactly where to take this conversation. We sit just for a minute. It almost reminds me of some of my early days with him. Especially, when I first began spending those long lust filled nights in his luxurious bed. A bed that seemed to be made for sex. Putting out of my mind what it looked like the last time I saw it. Smiling, I flash to happier times in our bedroom at Dade 303.

  “What was that hint of a smile for?”

  Barely shaking my head, as my eyes wander up to the ceiling of this magnificent old building. Tightening my lips into a thin line, all I can say is “Nothing. It doesn’t really matter. Actually, this is a conversation of honesty, so I'll be honest. I was thinking about the bedroom at 303 and the things we did in that bed.” I can feel my nipples betraying me, as they begin to tingle and peak.

  Clearing my throat, I look him in the eye and finally ask what I’ve wanted to know since I left Miami. “Why? Why did you lie to me? Why did you make me think we had a future when you obviously have a commitment to another woman?” I’m on a roll now, I can’t stop pounding the questions out to him. “Why did you let me fall in love with you? I loved, damn it love you. Why Houston? Just tell me why? Why me? Were you simply looking for a piece of fresh tail to have in Miami when it was convenient?" My anger is building and the calm Charli has been replaced by one pissed off woman. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Holding one finger up, I pause for a deep breath before I continue, "I know Houston Donovan the man that women call liquid gold sex. Well the joke's on them isn’t it? You are off the market and unless a woman only wants to be some.” Looking around the room and finally landing my eyes on him, I say “I hate this word but unless a woman only wants to be some random fuck for you then they should forget you. Does that about sum it up, Mr. Donovan?”

  Sitting, saying nothing for a few minutes he finally speaks, “Are you finished? I understand you need to rant and get that part of this out of your system but I think you have said just about enough degrading things about us. Don’t you?” As those chocolate eyes meet mine, I can see some regret but I am not sure what the regret is for.

  Looking deep into his eyes, I answer rather sharply, “Really? You think I have said enough about us. Let me tell you this, I have not said near enough, degrading was i
t, things about us.” Before I can say another word he is on his feet pulling me to him. His lips are on mine in a powerful all-consuming kiss. I can almost feel them bruising. With one hand moving behind my head to hold me in place while the other cups the cheek of my butt pulling me into him, I can feel him grow harder. Wrapping my arms around his neck, my right leg automatically lifts to wrap around him. My arms are clinging onto the life preserver named Houston.

  Slowly breaking our connection, he looks into my eyes as he leans his forehead onto mine, placing his pointer finger on my lips to silence me. “Charli, you were never a piece of tail as you called it. Maybe at first, you were another challenge for me to conquer. Somewhere along the way, I have changed and I thank you for giving me insight into what true happiness is. I am deeply in love with you as I believe you are with me. Can we stop this exchange of one upping the other? Because, I can assure you each time you belittle yourself or this thing between us, I will stop it. Nod your head if you understand me because I can only imagine the negativity that will flow from your luscious lips.”

  I open my mouth and Houston raises his eyebrows as if in a warning. I heed his warning and simply nod. My inner mid-west girl with morals is asking the city side of me “what in the world is she thinking? With a smile so wide, she looks at her and simply says “Shh, don’t wreck this for us.

  He continues, “Yes, I am married on paper but that is the only place. I do not love her nor she me. Love was never a consideration in our contract. The original reason for our marriage was coercion. As she said in Miami, she knows things that could destroy me. Some things from when I was young and wild. Some things she has learned over the years as my wife. No wait she isn’t a wife. A wife is someone you share things with, a partner you enjoy being with. She is neither of those things to me. I view my relationship with her as a binding contract I can’t escape from.”

  I open my mouth then look at him, “Are you finished? Is it my turn again?” I sit down because if I don’t my legs will give way at any second. Houston nods. He has his boardroom face on. Which leaves me at a disadvantage, I have no experience with this side of him except that horrible night. He sits down across from me and I continue. “I understand you are a married man and are off limits to me.” He starts to speak but taking a page from his book, I look to the door and say, “You see that door?”