by Tracey Ward
I ran straight into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me, my chest heaving with lungful’s of air that felt like they were scorching me on the inside. Like I was breathing smoke and fire and I wished I could burn.
Then I saw Jenna.
She was standing in the middle of the small room, her mouth open wide in surprise.
I fell into her eyes. Those clear, calm, gorgeous pools of gray that saw every part of me, even the ugly, and made me clean again.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stop it.
I ran to her.
My mouth claimed hers, covering it and devouring her breath that sunk into my lungs and doused the fire. I drove my hands into the cold, thick tresses of her hair and the itch died inside them. Everywhere her body touched mine, it cooled it, calmed it, even as she gripped my hips and crushed me against her, pinning herself between me and the wall. Still, it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed all of her. I’d wanted her and dreamed of her for so fucking long and now here she was in my hands, pulling me against her, sliding her tongue into my mouth with the sweet taste of mint that burst clean and strong across my tongue.
I drug my fingers down her chin and traced the long counters of her neck. I found the threaded cords of the muscles and followed them down to her breastplate, along the line of the bone on her collar, tripping my fingers over it and memorizing the length. The ridges. I touched her shoulders, her back, her spine – the structure that held her up against the weight of the world with impossible strength and poise. Everything that had been denied me for so many years. I made a map of her in my head. I followed her hip to where it dipped down in the front, and I felt her breath hitch in her throat, the gasp sending my body into overdrive, but I didn’t push. That’s not what this was. I wanted to know her. Every rugged, rough inch of the bones in her body that moved like water with fluid grace. The impossible magic that was Jenna – I wanted to learn it so I could always remember it.
I traced her fingers that held tightly to my hips, her long elegant hands, her thin, delicate wrists. The skin on the flat of her stomach.
She gripped me harder, her mouth moving slowly over mine like a caress in a way that made me groan in my throat and ache in my body, but still I moved with meticulous leisure over her. I drifted up her long, lean stomach until I reached her ribs. I ran my fingers along each one of them, mesmerized by the soft skin that rested over the hard bone beneath. She was a contradiction of everything. Soft and supple, resilient and firm. Every part of her unapologetic and so accepting. She let my hands wander over her, sighing and shivering against me, giving me so much peace in the measure of her making that I lost track of myself. Of time.
There was a knock on the door, making both of us jolt.
“Kellen?” Karen called gently.
I froze with my mouth and hands still on Jenna, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest and my breathing coming desperate and erratic. I remembered where I was. What I’d done. What I hadn’t yet done.
“Kellen, are you alright?”
Jenna pushed against me, but I held her firmly. I stole one last second from Time before she took everything from me again. I held Jenna close, I shut out the world, and I kissed her slowly as though she were mine.
As thought I weren’t about to lose her all over again.
I leaned back to look at her, but her face had changed the way the feel of her body had changed in my hands. She was rigid. She was gone.
“I’m fine,” I called out, my throat tightening.
“Alright,” Karen answered hesitantly. “Well, dinner is ready when you are. Looks like Jenna is a no show so we’ll start without her.”
“I’ll be right out.”
We listened to her footsteps fade down the hall. Jenna released me, her hands falling lifeless beside her, but I stayed with my body warm against hers, desperate to keep that one last connection between us as the others fell away.
“You better go,” she whispered, her eyes pained.
“This wasn’t a mistake,” I told her quietly.
“It wasn’t good.”
“Bad timing doesn’t make it wrong.”
“If it’s not a mistake, it’s not good, and it’s not wrong, then what is it?”
"It's too soon, is what it is.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. "Why? You wanted to wait until after you were married to fuck your wife's sister?"
I took hold of her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I didn't mean for this to happen now,” I told her fiercely and honestly. “Not yet. Do you know how many years I've wanted this? How many times I've thought about you?"
She tried to shake her head in my hands. “No.”
"Hundreds. Thousands. It's nearly a daily battle for me to keep my hands off you, so I'm sorry I slipped up, I really am, but I don't regret it. I could never regret you.” I rubbed my thumb softly across her cheek. “Not one inch, not one second. Not one breath."
She tried to push me away. "You're engaged to Laney," she said viciously, tears of anger and hurt stinging her eyes. "We've been through this. You don't want this with me."
I collapsed against her, pressing my forehead to hers. "I want everything with you,” I breathed.
She went still in my hands. "Shut up,” she whispered vehemently, tears straining in her voice. "Stop saying things like that, it doesn't mean anything. It's what you say to all of them. To Laney, to the girls at school, the girls at the firm. Don't talk to me like that. Like I'm just another one of them."
I let go of her, feeling like she’d burned me.
“Vous n'avez jamais été l'un d'eux,” I told her in French at a pace I knew she couldn’t understand. She’d never catch all of it, but I said it anyway. I said it for me.
You've never been one of them. You have always been the only one. The only one I want and the only one I'm too scared to touch. You’re too much and you’re everything, but I’m done being scared. I won’t hide from you anymore. Your sister and I are done. I’m ending it tonight, and then I'm coming for you.
She shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know what you just said.”
“That’s alright,” I told her, taking hold of the doorknob. “I’m going to show you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jenna disappeared with no one but me knowing she had been there. I wished I could follow her, talk to her, but I had other things to take care of first. Things I should have done a long time ago.
I made it silently through dinner with Dan and Karen, both of them casting me worried glances that I didn’t return. Laney ignored me entirely, not interested in whatever was bothering me. I knew this maneuver. She would wait for me to work it out myself, then everything would even out and return to the numb normal we existed in. Fervent sex would follow, maybe a little rough. A little angry to work out whatever angst had fueled our fight, but then nothing. Problem solved.
Not this time.
After dinner she tried to leave immediately, claiming she was tired and had a big project to work on for school, but I refused to back down. I took her outside to the backyard where the ocean roared in the distance. It felt better being out here. Less confining. More like I was already a little free and all I had to do was say the words and it would be real.
“We can return the couch,” Laney said, sounding annoyed and bored the second we stepped outside. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.”
“What then? The house? Kellen, we can’t buy a house if you’re not going to work anymore.”
Even if I didn’t work another day in my life, I could have afforded to buy just about any house on that block right then and there. There was still over two million dollars in my savings account, and it was growing every day. My bastard father never stopped contributing to it, even after I turned eighteen. In fact, once he’d found out I was drawing on the account to go to college, he’d started adding more. I responded
by upping my charitable donations.
I cringed to think what life would have been like if Laney had ever known about that money.
“It’s not about the house or the couch, it’s about us,” I told her calmly. I paused, wondering how a person was supposed to say something like this. I hadn’t thought out exactly how this conversation would go and I realized I should have prepared better. I should have Googled it at the very least. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I don’t want to get married.”
She stared at me impassively. “You’re calling off the wedding?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes dry and untroubled. “Mom said this might happen. You’re going through a lot. I get it. With the accident and everything, you’ve got a lot on your plate. How much time do you think you need? We can probably keep the deposits on the church and the Langham Hotel, we’ll just have to push the dates back. The caterer might be trickier, but that’s okay. Dad will understand losing a little money to let you get it together.”
“No, I don’t want to push the dates back. I don’t want to get married at all.” I wished it wasn’t crucial to say the next words. They felt so specific and hurtful. Almost like an accusation, and I wasn’t looking to hurt her any more than I already had. “I don’t want to get married to you.”
“Oh,” she said quietly, her face going tight. Her lips pinched together as her eyes squinted at me. “You don’t want to marry me? You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yes.”
Sighing heavily, she nodded again. I watched her face turn annoyed, but never angry. Not upset, no tears, none of the outbursts I’d grown to expect from her over the years. I’d once seen her weep and pitch a fit because her new purse had a sticky zipper, so the fact that she was only mildly annoyed that I was calling off our wedding was weird.
“This is so stupid, Kellen,” she grumbled.
“I know it’s upsetting.”
“No, it’s not upsetting. It’s stupid,” she corrected me. “We have the venue reserved!”
“I remember.”
“We have flowers ordered.”
“We’ll cancel them. I’ll help you with everything. I’ll do all of it if that’s easier for you.”
She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. “Do you even think about what you do? About how it affects other people?”
I hesitated, surprised by the question. By the depth of it. “I’m trying to be more aware of that.”
“Ugh, whatever,” she groaned. She abruptly turned toward the house, walking away from me. “Fine. Great. Wedding off. Thanks for telling me.”
I frowned after her. “Where are you going?”
“Inside. It’s cold, and if you’ll remember, this is stupid!”
She slammed the door behind her, shaking the glass in the frame.
I stood alone on the lawn, confused as hell.
“What just happened?” I whispered to myself. Whatever it was, it wasn’t right.
I ran for the door, throwing it open and sprinting down the hall toward the stairs.
“Laney, stop!” I shouted when I spotted her heading up toward her room.
She spun on the stairs, descending two at a time to stand on the last one. She towered over me, her eyes bright and angry. “You think I don’t know what this is really about?” she seethed.
Ah, there it was – the rage. I was weirdly relieved to see it.
“It’s about us,” I told her tightly. “We haven’t been good for way too long. Maybe never. I’m done trying to force this to work.”
“Oh, bullshit!” she spat. “This isn’t about us, it’s about the whore you’re just itching to go bang.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s so obvious. We don’t kiss, you barely touch me, we hardly even talk, and you’ve been hanging the fact that I cheated over my head like a guillotine.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t brought it up once since you told me.”
“You did the night of the accident! It was all you would talk about.”
I shook my head, my brow pinching. “I don’t remember that.”
“Well, you did. You wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“I asked you what happened during the time I can’t remember and you said there was nothing.”
“Don’t turn this around on me.”
“You said we ate dinner and got in the cab full and happy.”
She shrugged like it didn’t matter. “I lied, okay? Whatever. This isn’t about me. It’s about you. You just want to get even! You know what – do it. I’m glad you’re going to, because then you can never give me shit for it again. So congratulations, we’re broken up. Go get your rocks off and get over it already! I’ll see you in two months when you’re feeling like yourself again, but what I won’t do is cancel the wedding. It was too much work to set up and I can’t do it again.” She turned and strode up the stairs, effectively dismissing me.
“You’re wrong,” I called after her. “It’s not about another girl and it’s not about the guy you slept with. It’s about us because we’re crap together and I’m not doing it anymore!”
“Two months!” she repeated, not stopping her exit.
“This isn’t temporary. It’s not like the other times, Laney! It’s over between us!”
“Sure it is,” she said darkly. “It always is.”
“Laney!”
She slammed her bedroom door closed in response.
I breathed hot and heavy, my temper flaring. Why couldn’t we do one damn thing like normal people?!
“You okay?” Dan asked, startling me.
I turned to face him. “I’m sorry,” I immediately blurted out.
He nodded slowly, his eyes taut at the corners. “What’s happening?”
“Laney and I…” I took a deep breath – just one. “I called off the wedding. It’s over between us.”
Dan closed his eyes for a split second. “Is she okay?”
“I think so. There were no tears, but she doesn’t belie—“
“What’s going on?” Karen asked, hurrying into the entryway. “Why are you two shouting?”
“They had a falling out,” Dan answered her calmly. “Kellen’s called off the wedding.”
Karen gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her, stuck on repeat.
“Why? What happened?”
Dan touched her arm, a meaningful look on his face. “It’s none of our business.”
“It was time,” I told them, surprising all of us by offering the information. “I’ve been unhappy for a while and I need to work on that. On me. Alone.” I swallowed hard over the tightness of my throat. “In fact, Dan, if I could, I need to talk to you as well. About work. I know now isn’t a good time, so in a few days if I could come to your office and—”
“Kellen, it’s fine,” he interrupted, gesturing for me to head down the hall toward his study. “Why don’t we go talk in the den?”
“I’ll go see how Laney is doing,” Karen said. She paused in front of me, her eyes sad but surprisingly understanding. She pressed her hand to my cheek gently. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I love my daughter, but I know that she… She made mistakes.”
“So did I. It’s my fault as much as hers.”
Probably more.
She pinched her lips together tightly, the color going out of them. She looked like there was more she wanted to say, but finally she stepped up, hugged me tightly, and then tread purposefully up the stairs.
I followed Dan to his office the way I had a thousand times before. He closed the door behind us as I took my seat across from his desk, but he surprised me when he sat in the vacant chair next to me.
“What’s on your mind, son?” he asked steadily.
I chuckled impulsively at the question, not sure where to start. I leaned back, rubbing my hands over my face. “That’s a big question.”
“Then let’s start with a small answer.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice muffled by my hands. I dropped them into my lap and stared straight ahead, my eyes fixed on the blue globe paperweight on his desk that glinted and glowed in the low light. “I don’t want to be an attorney anymore.”
Dan sat back, crossing his arms and staring at his desk as well. “That’s starting small?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you want to be an attorney anymore?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that I hate it. I hate doing it. I hated studying for it and getting licensed for it. I think I always have, but I worked so hard to get there, it never felt right to quit on it.”
“Why did you put yourself through so much trouble in school if you hated everything about it?”
“I was unhappy with everything. I didn’t realize how much of that hate belonged to becoming a lawyer. I actually thought it was one of the few good things I had going on in my life.”
“What else did you hate?”
I shifted in my seat. “A lot of things.”
“Being with Laney?”
“Yes,” I admitted gruffly.
In my peripheral I saw Dan shake his head. “That doesn’t shock me as much as you seem to think it does. Neither of you has been happy lately.”
“I should have ended it sooner.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.” He coughed roughly, clearing his throat. “I’m also not going to deny that she should have ended it as well. Especially before she did what she did.”
“You know?” I asked, my voice going quiet and deep.
“Karen and I both do. She told us when it happened. She was terrified you’d find out and she was angry at us when we insisted she be honest with you. When she told you and you did nothing, that’s when I started getting worried about you.”
“I shouldn’t have even started it,” I said bitterly. “I never should have dated her because I knew. I knew how we were and I knew it wasn’t anything that meant much to either of us. I knew what kind of guy I am and I never should have set foot in this house and come anywhere near your girls because—“