Misty Blue

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Misty Blue Page 18

by Dyanne Davis


  “Don’t give up on us just yet. I have no plans on throwing in the towel. Thanks, Ash.” He waved and headed home.

  * * *

  Damien stuck his key into the lock, praying that what he was about to do would work. He knew one thing for certain. What they had done thus far definitely hadn’t worked. “Mia,” he called out. “Are you awake?”

  “Your dinner is on the stove,” she answered.

  Damien looked toward the kitchen. If he’d needed a cook he could have gone to any restaurant. He marched into her bedroom and stood there staring down at the surprised look on her face.

  “Why the surprise? This isn’t the eighteenth century. Surely you expected to see me in here at some point.”

  “What’s wrong?” Mia asked. “Are you okay?”

  “No, baby girl, I’m not okay.”

  Damien scooped Mia up into his arms, ignoring her protests, her look of sheer panic. He carried her to his bed. “We’re married, Mia. I didn’t get married so that I could sleep alone.” He unceremoniously dumped her on the bed, then sat beside her. “You’re my wife. From now on you sleep in my bed.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Mia. Is that clear? You sleep beside me, in this bed, from now on.”

  She didn’t answer and he wanted her to. Damien wanted to fight but the tears forming in Mia’s eyes pushed the fight right out of him and he turned away from her. “I can’t do this,” he said quietly.

  “Can’t do what?” she asked.

  “This,” he pointed toward the bed. “This caveman routine. I can’t do it. I can’t understand what happened, why you stopped loving me, but I can’t force you to love me and I sure as hell can’t force you to make love to me.”

  He turned to her again, “Not with that look of fear in your eyes. Mia, just tell me what I did or what you think I did that made you stop loving me?”

  “I haven’t stopped loving you,” Mia answered.

  He watched as the tears slid slowly down her cheeks and he traced one with the tip of his finger. “Then why the tears? You keep telling me nothing is wrong but you cry if I just look at you.”

  “Tell me where you were tonight before you came home,” Mia whispered.

  He shook his head slowly, trying to understand what his wife was asking. “You know where I was. I was working at the club.”

  “I mean after you left the club, where were you?”

  He glanced at the clock and cringed. He’d taken a little longer than he’d thought talking to Ashleigh.

  “Mia, I haven’t done anything wrong. I swear it.”

  “Then tell me where you were.”

  She waited and when he didn’t answer, she looked at him and said softly, “Alright, then I’ll tell you. I smelled the perfume when you picked me up. It’s Ashleigh’s. I recognize the scent.”

  “Do you think I’m screwing around on you? Is that what this is about?”

  Now Mia was ready to talk. She swiped at the tears on her face. “You’re changing the subject. Tell me you weren’t just with Ashleigh, that she wasn’t in your arms. She had to be close to you to leave her scent.”

  Damien groaned. How the hell could he tell his bride what he’d gone to Ashleigh for? “I went to see her as a friend. She gave me a hug, that’s it.”

  “Was my brother there?”

  He knew where this was leading. He took a deep breath and sighed. “No, Keefe wasn’t there. I called Ashleigh earlier and asked her if there was a way that she could be alone, that I needed someone to talk to.”

  He saw Mia wince and he got angry. This was all her fault. Why the hell did he have to explain anything?

  “She agreed, as a friend, Mia. She listened to me and yes, she hugged me. And she didn’t have the look in her eyes that you do now, that she was afraid that I was going to rape her.”

  Damien didn’t know what had happened but knew his own fears, that he wasn’t good enough for Mia, that she wouldn’t make love to him because he’d failed to satisfy her, were very close to the surface. His heart lurched within his chest and his worst fear, that Mia didn’t love him any longer, surfaced. That he couldn’t accept. He was determined to make her remember, to make her love him again. He reached for her and crushed her to him, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Then he fell on her and pushed her flimsy nightgown above her hips and shoved his fingers roughly inside her.

  “Damien.” She was whimpering and somehow her arms were wound around his neck. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped. How can you think that?”

  It was her words that brought control back to him and he released her. “You still love me?” he repeated, doubt making his voice husky.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then tell me what the hell is going on. For nearly a year we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other. Now you cringe whenever I get near. Just talk to me, Mia, tell me what I did wrong. You said I didn’t hurt you. Then why won’t you let me make love to you? Why does my touch make you cry?”

  “It’s not you,” Mia answered. “It’s nothing you’ve done. “It’s me. I’m trying to deal with it. I just need a little more time.”

  “That’s just it. You need a little more time to tolerate my touching you? You’re shutting me out, Mia. We should be working through this together. I don’t want to be a job for you, or a patient that you’re learning how to handle. Trust me to help, trust our love.” He reached for her again but this time when she moved away so did he.

  Damien stood and frowned, “I love you, Mia, and I want to work things out but you’re going to have to help me. I meant what I said. You’re not sleeping in a different bed. You’re my wife.”

  “Are you saying you’re going to just do it, no mater how I feel?”

  With more control than he knew he possessed, Damien turned to face Mia who was still on the bed and looking at him strangely. He’d never felt such anger or such love.

  “That would make me less than a dog. I have no plans on raping you.” He thought he saw a flash of relief in her eyes. “I know you’re inexperienced and I have no idea what’s going on in your head, especially since you won’t talk to me, but I do know that what we did was perfectly normal. There may have been pain, but I didn’t rape you, Mia. I know I didn’t. One other thing. I also have no plans on staying celibate.” He saw her wince again and knew he’d hurt her.

  Good, he thought as he marched out of the room into the bathroom. He held his fingers to his nostrils and breathed in his wife’s scent. A deep longing filled him as he washed it away.

  * * *

  Mia needed help. She knew that. Treating herself wasn’t working. She hadn’t called her therapist as a patient for years but she needed someone to talk to her, to help her enforce the things she already knew. She needed someone to help her exorcise her nightmares. She needed someone to help her save her marriage.

  Damien thought she’d stopped loving him. That she thought he’d raped her. Why shouldn’t he? She knew that was the way she’d been behaving. She had really tried getting her fears under control. She’d tried to be strong, to go it alone but the stakes were now too high for her process. She’d do whatever it took to make her marriage work.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It took several weeks and the changes were subtle but Mia felt them. She was glad that Damien had demanded she sleep in the bed beside him. Her therapist had confirmed that he’d made the right move. She’d also suggested that Mia confide in him or bring him to a session. Like that was going to happen. That was the last thing her marriage needed, for her husband to think she needed someone to help his wife be the wife she wanted to be.

  It was true. She did, but she wasn’t ready to tell him that. She was making progress. Whenever Damien fell sleep she lay on his chest, touching him, kissing and caressing him. She fell asleep each night curled around him and only moved away when he woke in the morning.

  * * *

  Damien lay as still as he could, barely breathing. For the past several
nights Mia had begun touching him as he slept, kissing him, whispering words of love to him. At first he’d thought to confront her but she’d always moved away when he made the slightest movement. And at least she was touching him, so he didn’t say anything. When the alarm went off, he pretended to wake, knowing that as he did Mia was going to move away.

  He sat up and looked down at her. Damien was tired of what they were doing, how they were behaving. He felt they were suffocating in the apartment. He knew they needed to get out, to at least return some form of normalcy to their lives. He stared at her a moment longer until she stopped the pretense and opened her eyes.

  “Mia, we’re going to stop behaving as hermits. We’re going to my mother’s for dinner tonight. She called and I accepted.” He waited for her to object.

  “Is it just your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time?”

  “As soon as I come home and shower.”

  Mia licked her lips and he waited for her to try and get out of it but she didn’t. At least that was some progress.

  When they arrived at his mother’s home, Mia shocked Damien by putting her hand in his as they walked toward the door.

  “Is this for show?” he couldn’t help asking.

  “I don’t want to have everyone asking questions. We’ve only been married a few weeks. I don’t want your mother to think we’re fighting,” Mia answered.

  “Damn, Mia, couldn’t you have just said you wanted to hold my hand?” He dropped her hand. “Until you want to touch me because you want to, don’t do it. I don’t give a damn what my mother says or think. I’m not putting on an act for her or for anyone,” he said, walking ahead of her. “And you might as well get used to us going out, because we’re going to start living. Do you understand?”

  “Damien, I’m not your child.”

  “No, but you’re my wife.”

  “You can’t order me around.”

  Damien glared at Mia. “We can finish the fight here or we can take it up when we get home.” Just then his mother opened the door and Mia sailed past him.

  “Your choice,” Mia answered. “I don’t care.”

  She was angry and the knowledge nearly made Damien smile. Her anger was better than her apathy. At least she was behaving as if she were still alive.

  “You two fighting?” Kathy asked when dessert was served and Mia had not spoken more than ten words.

  “Yes,” Mia answered, “your son seems under the mistaken opinion that marrying me meant he became my father. He thinks he issues orders and I am just to obey them.”

  “How could I have that impression?” Damien came back. “Keefe already holds that title.”

  “I’m getting sick to death of hearing you throw my brother’s name up every time something doesn’t go your way.” She stood up. “I’m ready to go.”

  Kathy started laughing and Mia turned toward her. Her anger was rapidly spreading to include Kathy. “I’m happy to know that we’re amusing you.” Mia reined in her temper, trying not to allow all of her anger at Damien and herself to spill out on Kathy.

  “I’m just thinking that I told you how it was going to be and you didn’t believe me. I warned you that Damien is just like his father.”

  Mia frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your fighting. I can figure out what it is. Damien is running the streets and doesn’t want you questioning him about it. I knew it.”

  Mia continued frowning. She glanced toward Damien and saw the sadness in her husband’s face.

  “You’ve got it wrong, Kathy. Damien is not running around.” She glanced again at her husband and pain pierced her heart for what his mother had done to him and for what she herself was doing to him. He didn’t deserve it nor did he deserve the bad rap. Well, that was one thing she could and would take care of. Mia had already told Dr. Grey that she was ready to try and make love with Damien again. Despite their fighting, or maybe because of it, tonight would be a good time to take charge of her life.

  “Kathy, it’s not Damien who’s causing the problem. It’s me. He’s been the best, most patient husband that I could have asked for. He hasn’t done any of the things that you said. You just gave me the wake-up call that I needed.” She turned her attention to her husband. “Damien, can we go now?”

  When they were inside the car, Mia turned to Damien. “I’m sorry for making you live this way.” His face was hard and his jaw was clenched. He wasn’t answering her.

  “Damien, I love you. I want to work things out.” She kissed his cheek and ignored his pushing her away.

  “Mia, I’m not a yo-yo. You can’t keep pushing me away, then pulling me back when you want.”

  “I’m not going to push you away anymore. You can count on that.”

  Damien held both her hands in his, his breath ragged. He couldn’t look at her, he didn’t dare hope. “Unless you mean what I’m taking this to mean, then stop right now. I can’t take anymore of this. So you either mean it, or move over to your side of the car. You don’t have to feel sorry for me that my mother is happy thinking I screwed up. I’m used to it, Mia. I’ve put up with it my entire life.”

  She pulled her hands from his grasp and held his face between them, her eyes probing the depths of his. Her lips claimed his as she closed her eyes and held on to him, hoping that he’d forgive her, that she was still in his heart. He clutched her to him and their tongues battled for dominance. She felt his heat, intense and urgent and she felt her own answering his. Their hearts beat a pattern, and their needs quickly turned to lust. They groped each other’s body, trying desperately to reclaim what they’d lost.

  “Damn it, Mia,” Damien said, pushing her away. “We’re not kids. We’re not doing this, not this way, in the car. We have a bed at home.” He looked at her. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Yes,” she answered and snuggled against him as his arms came around her.

  “What’s been going on, baby girl! What happened?”

  “Not now, no talking, just us. I don’t want to think about anything but now.”

  In a matter of minutes they had returned home, were undressed, and Damien was kissing Mia hard, clutching her to him. “Last chance,” he moaned. “If we make love now we’re not going back to what it was before.”

  “I don’t want it like it was before.”

  Before the words had completely left her mouth she felt Damien plunge into her hot and heavy. She felt the same stab of pain as she had the first time and tensed a moment before forcing her body to relax. She threw her arms around him and arched her hips to meet his thrusts. It surprised her when after several grunts Damien growled and stiffened.

  They were going to be okay, she thought. She’d not seen any pictures. She hadn’t felt the unwanted comparison to her mother. Then again, there hadn’t been time. It had happened so quickly. A tear of gratitude slid beneath her lashes. They would get better together. For now she’d gotten through the hard part. She and Damien were in their bed.

  Damien opened his eyes in time to see the tear on Mia’s face. He’d thought she’d wanted him. A horrible thought struck him. She had wanted him. He’d just failed to satisfy her. He wiped the tear away from her face. “So this is what pity sex feels like?” And he got up and walked away.

  Mia’s eyes opened wide and she stared in disbelief at her husband’s retreating back and cried in earnest. This time she couldn’t blame images of her mother. It was her. Damien wasn’t satisfied with her.

  For the next few weeks they continued in that fashion, Damien turning to Mia at night, her hoping this would be the night that he’d hold her afterwards, but he never did. In fact, it seemed to her that the time he was in her became shorter, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of making love to her. Now there were no longer even the hungry kisses before or any attempts at caresses. He just entered her, did what he had to do, got up and left the room, leaving her in tears. Inadvertently, Mia had begun cringing when he came near her, afrai
d that if he touched her, he would move away. She couldn’t bear that. Having him move away from her in bed was bad enough.

  * * *

  Damien’s key entered the lock and Mia looked at the clock. Two a.m. He was staying longer and longer at the club. They couldn’t continue like this. She knew it. They had to talk, had to make it right.

  Mia sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her husband to come into the bedroom. “You’re awake,” Damien said to her as he came in and saw her perched there.

  “Yeah, I am,” she answered.

  “Why?” She looked up at him, her look speaking to him of the vulnerability and pain in his heart. Usually Mia was asleep when he came home or at least lying in the bed in the dark. Then Damien could come to her, enter her body and not witness the sadness in his wife’s face. Then he could pretend for a few minutes at a time that things were as they should be with them. But with her sitting there facing him, he couldn’t pretend. He headed to the kitchen, then thought better of it. Damien turned back and walked to Mia, dropping to his knees. He encircled her waist with his hands.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Mia. I’m not going to hurt you.” He pulled at her, his pulling bringing her closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

  “What happened to us, Mia? I don’t understand. You loved me when you said I do.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head to her lap.

  “I still love you.”

  “You keep saying that you love me, but I gotta tell you, baby girl, you sure have a hell of a way of showing it. And frankly I don’t believe that you do. I think I deserve a truthful answer. What happened? What did I do?”

  He felt the shudder that claimed her body but he didn’t move from his position. Then her hands were on his head and she was caressing him.

  “You have to believe me. I didn’t stop loving you, Damien, not even for a second. How could I? You’re a part of my soul.”

 

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