Angel_Rochon Bears

by Moxie North

  “Yeah, call me,” he said, his jaw flexing.

  Becca watched as he turned and left the bathroom, pulling the door behind him. It didn’t latch, so she could hear him banging around in the other room. She waited to see if he would come back into the bathroom. He didn’t. The front door slamming was the last thing she heard.

  As she looked back into the mirror, she saw the tear she hadn’t felt fall, trailing down her cheek.

  Why did this hurt so much?

  Chapter 38

  It had been two days.

  Two days of Becca avoiding phone calls from Angel. He called her at work, which was easy to get around. Then Alicia gave him her number. Becca was ineffectively giving her the stink eye for doing that.

  He’d left her four messages. All of them she hadn’t responded to. His last call was yesterday. Today, there were none.

  That gnawing in her stomach that felt like a stomach ache had moved into a full cramp. Her mental state was feeling about the same. Tied up in knots with no way to unravel.

  This is what she wanted. He was letting her go. Finding his own way. This was a good thing.

  It still hurt.

  She wanted to go home and curl into a ball and cry. Then eat some ice cream and cry some more. But she couldn’t. There were people that depended on her. Well, people and animals.

  Her confusion at whether she wanted to drive home and find him waiting for her or not was causing her to lay awake thinking about him. If he was there when she came home from work, should she accept that he was truly interested and give him a chance? Or would there be another uncomfortable conversation and the cycle would repeat?

  The latter meant she got to see him again. A larger than she wanted to admit part of her, wanted to fight with him, see the flash in his eyes of sex, anger, and something else that was a mystery.

  But he wasn’t there when she came home. The first night after he’d called her at work to check in, he’d called her cell leaving her another message. The next day was the same, calling her at work and at home.

  Today, no calls. Nothing.

  Her disappointment was confusing, and Becca was starting to wish she’d never met Angel Rochon. Life wouldn’t seem so gray now if she hadn’t met him. He brought a color into her world that she didn’t know was missing. It wasn’t that her world was boring. It just shined brighter when he was around.

  As Becca drove home, she was sure that he’d be there. He wasn’t. She pulled into the driveway and let the gray settle over her.

  Damn him. Damn him for changing her routine. For making her miss something she should never have wanted or needed. She was thirty-five and set in her ways. Angel Rochon was a disruption, not an opportunity. Even that didn’t sound right to her. She was being cruel to herself and she knew better.

  Except that wasn’t what her heart was telling her. Her mind was saying be reasonable, do what’s best for him if she really cared about him. Her heart was telling her that she deserved the way he treated her, that no matter how cruel she’d been he was still there. Still trying to make them work. He was trying and she was ignoring it, so she wouldn’t have to ball up and make the decision like an adult. Shit, she’d been watching too many reality shows. Normal people didn’t do those things; it was a terrible idea. Her heart was getting carried away, wanting the ease that Angel brought when they were together. Those moments when she didn’t think about how they would look together or what people would say. Those were the good times, the ones she craved.

  Maybe Angel was right, and the universe sent him to her. But it was only a test run. She was trying him out and had decided not to buy. Maybe that thought would keep her warm in the future. She doubted it. She was already cold without him.

  Getting out of her car, she slowly walked to her door. She was about to put the key in when she saw a small square envelope propped against the door with the word Beloved written in black ink. Her breath stuck in her throat.

  Slowly bending down, she picked it up with shaking hands. Unlocking the door, she went inside and leaned against it, the white square taking up all of her vision.

  Dropping her purse on the floor, she turned the envelope over and opened it. Inside was a CD with the same word Beloved written on it. She walked it over to her computer sitting on the antique desk in the living room and turned it on, waiting for it to boot up. She kept her eyes on the CD like it was going to change or say something to her while she waited. Becca put the disc in and hit the play button when it came up.

  Sitting in her desk chair, she held her breath.

  She didn’t know what she expected, but when the sound started, she was glad she was sitting down.

  The soft strums of a guitar started. A languid melody that was as beautiful as it was complicated.

  Then there was a voice. Angel was singing. His rich tenor blended with the chords he was playing, and the mixture was like honey.

  He sang of beauty, fire, and love. His words were full of emotion, and she could hear the pain in not only his voice but in his heart. He sang of desire and passion, but the sound was of a man consumed by pain.

  Becca wrapped her arms around her waist. The beauty of it was painful. As the song ended, her hand reached up and hit the play button again without thinking.

  She sat and listened to a song that in another world, another time, would just be a love song. But to her, with him singing it, it was a song of loss. The tears streaked down her face, and the sobs caught in her throat.

  Becca had never felt worse in her entire life. She’d caused his pain, and she didn’t know how to ease it. What he wanted, she couldn’t give. What he needed was what she was giving him.

  She resisted the urge to hit the play button one more time. Instead, she got up and grabbed a tub of ice cream from the fridge. Then she dialed Alicia’s number and through hiccupping tears told her she needed her.

  Her friend showed up within a few minutes and held her as she cried. Becca played her the song, and even Alicia couldn’t help but tear up. What she didn’t do was offer any advice, which Becca appreciated. She was past that. She had made her choice and now had to live with the aftermath.

  She fell asleep on her couch with her head in her best friend’s lap.

  Becca woke up at some point and was alone on the couch covered in a blanket. Getting up, she poked her head into her room and saw Alicia asleep on her bed. She’d stayed, just in case Becca had needed her. She loved her even more after that. Becca knew Alicia didn’t think she was making the right choice, but she still stood by her. That was a true friend.

  The next morning they got up, and Alicia went home to change for work. Becca had come to a place where the emptiness inside her wasn’t as twisting. It now sat like a heavy weight, and that was something she could get used to.

  Work passed with no calls, which didn’t surprise her. Nor did it surprise her that there was another CD waiting for her on her doorstep. This one said Forsaken in that same black pen.

  This time, she didn’t play it right away. The title was radiating an emotion she wasn’t ready to delve into. She set it on her desk when she made it inside and cooked herself dinner. Sitting alone at her table, she ate slowly. The call of the white envelope almost made a static noise in her ears.

  Delaying even longer, she hand washed her plate and cleaned off the counters. It took her another half hour before she was brave enough to listen to what Angel had left her.

  This time, it was a song still of love but more of pain. He sang of loss, missed chances, and poor choices.

  Becca wasn’t sure that he hadn’t written this song in the last few days or was one he’d already written. He was clearly so talented that through the haze of her tears again, her resolve settled that he had bigger and better things in his future than getting stuck with her in Apex.

  Angel needed to use his gifts somewhere bigger than their small town. He didn’t want to be a logger; he could be so much more.

  She could face her pain. There would come a ti
me in the future she would be able to appreciate the pain for the chance to feel something so deeply. Angel was young. He would get over the pain faster; that’s what the young did.

  Becca only played the song once. It was enough. Anymore and she wasn’t sure she would be able to stitch up the hole in her chest to get through the rest of the week.

  That night she didn’t call Alicia even though she knew her friend would have come over in a flash. She finally managed to fall asleep after two glasses of wine. Not her preferred method of inducing sleep as it always gave her nightmares. She dreamed of Angel standing in front of her, his chest ripped wide open, his beating heart pumping away in his chest. His eyes glowed yellow, and the pain still showed through the brightness.

  She woke up sweating and crying. Her heart raced. She told herself it was new, these feelings. If she gave it a few more days, it would get better. It had to.

  Chapter 39

  It was finally Friday. Why that should make anything better than the last few days, she didn’t know. It meant she wouldn’t have the distraction of work through the weekend to keep her mind off of Angel. Yes, she had to hit the shelter and visit the alpacas. But that was just a few hours out of the forty-eight plus that she needed to keep herself occupied.

  Becca was tired. Her body ached, and her mental anguish was starting to fester. She was surprised she hadn’t spiraled into another migraine what with the poor food choices, lack of sleep, and alcohol consumption. That was just one more thing to add to her stress level.

  She skipped breakfast; her stomach not able to handle anything solid. The night before she took two bites of her dinner and then threw it away. Nothing tasted good. Anything she did eat caused her stomach to cramp. It wasn’t worth the hassle.

  When she got to work, she saw Alicia waiting for her.

  “Dude, did you get in a fight with an angry tiger or something?”

  “What? Why?” Becca asked, looking at her in confusion.

  “Because your hair is pulled back. I’m pretty sure you aren’t wearing a drop of makeup, and you are stretching our business casual Friday policy a bit.”

  Becca looked down at her black yoga pants and plum colored long sleeve t-shirt. Her hair was clean, but she just hadn’t bothered doing anything but brushing it and pulling it into a low side ponytail. The lack of makeup was just an oversight. She’d forgotten that part of her routine. It didn’t seem that important. Who was she trying to impress? The little old man wanting to build a shed in his backyard and needing a permit?

  “Oh well, I don’t have any appointments scheduled. If the public doesn’t like it, they can talk to you. Or they can try again when I’m in a better mood.” Becca knew she was being grumpy, but she didn’t care.

  “Hey, I get it. You’re sad. I just wish there was a way I could help you through this,” Alicia said quietly.

  Becca looked her friend in the eyes. “You are helping. Believe me.”

  “Alright. You tell me if you need anything else. I’m here for you.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. I mean it.” Becca grabbed her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  She made it to her desk and opened her email. Her heart stuttered for a moment when she saw the name Rochon on a message waiting for her. When her heartbeat went back to normal, she saw it was from Wyatt Rochon requesting some information about zoning.

  “Fuck,” she moaned, covering her face. Just seeing that name screwed her up. Maybe she should move. Was there a witness protection program for the scorned? Except she was the one that had done the damage. She didn’t deserve to hide from it.

  Becca sat up in her chair and took a deep breath. She was an adult. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t a shirker. Typing up a fast answer, she sent it off to Wyatt and moved the email to another folder so she wouldn’t have to see the name. Then she moved on to her next task.

  It was another hour before she got a buzz on her phone that there was someone to see her.

  Becca got up and headed out without even thinking it could be Angel. Sure, he’d left those CDs, but he hadn’t shown up at her work or her house. It had been days since he’d stared at her with those eyes that were full of disbelief that she was dismissing him again.

  As she rounded the corner, her eyes scanned the waiting room catching on the dark pair of eyes with the bright shine in them that were directed at her.

  She stumbled a step as she stopped abruptly.

  He was standing a few steps back from the long counter near the end. She was on the other side the same distance from the counter. Becca didn’t know what to do or where to go. Her eyes dashed to the side like she was looking for a way out. When they came back to Angel, he gave her a subtle head shake.

  It was clear that he wouldn’t take kindly to her running away at his point.

  Taking a few deep breaths, she stepped to the counter and waited for him to approach. He took his sweet time joining her.

  Becca was grateful for the wood and hideous orange counter that separated them. Her fingers itched to touch him. But touching him would start the cycle of pain over for her, and she couldn’t do that. Not to him and not to herself.

  Clearing her throat, she quietly asked, “Can I help you?”

  At her words, she saw his eye twitch. Probably not a good sign.

  “I don’t know, Becks. Can you?” he asked quietly. His hands were gripping the edge of the counter, and she could see his knuckles were white with the strain.

  Frowning, she said, “Are you here for work?”

  “No.”

  “Are you here to see me?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “You aren’t here to see me? Then why did they call me out?”

  Becca held her ground as Angel leaned over the counter, his height giving him an advantage to come into her space.

  “I’m not here to see you, Becks. Because I always see you.” His voice was low and dangerous. He was speaking quietly enough that no one else in the room would be able to hear him. Not that they weren’t all focused on the tension that was emanating from their conversation.

  “I don’t know what that means,” she whispered back.

  “It means I don’t have to be in front of you to see you because you are the only thing on my mind every second of every minute of every hour of the day. I waited for you to call me. You got my music, right?”

  Becca swallowed. “Yes, they were beautiful. And sad.”

  “You made them beautiful and sad. I’m not the best with words. Clearly, I haven’t been saying the right things to you, because you still don’t get it. I hoped my music would show you.”

  “Show me what, Angel?”

  “Fucking hell, Becks. I love you. I want to be with you. I have to be with you. I can make you happy, take care of you, make you fucking smile. You’ve spent more time frowning at me than smiling. That is not an acceptable tally of what we have. I want to change that. Make you always smile, always laugh. Like that girl that was all grins and giggles at the bar. We can have that every day if you let us.”

  He’d said he loved her. No man had ever said that to her. She’d been in a long term relationship, living with a man, and he’d never uttered those words. Here was Angel Rochon saying them with a fervor that was hard to mistake as anything but true emotion.

  “Angel, you don’t want me. I don’t know why you think you do, but I’m trying to do what is best for you,” she hissed.

  “I don’t need you to tell me what I want!” he said, his voice rising.

  Becca looked around the room to see most of the eyes were already on them.

  “Keep your voice down,” she whispered.

  “No. You aren’t going to stand there and tell me that I don’t love you. You are the woman that is supposed to be mine. I’m not a child, damn it. I’m a man telling the woman that he loves that she is it for him. Why can’t you hear me?”

  “I do hear you, and so does the rest of the office,” she whi
spered.

  Angel turned around to face the assembled group. “I love Rebecca Kelly!” he shouted into the waiting room.

  Becca looked in horror as a few people looked shocked and a few had big stupid grins on their faces.

  This was not happening. He did not just pull a rom-com movie line and declare his love to a group of strangers.

  “Angel, stop,” Becca said desperately.

  Turning back to her, he said, “No. I’m not going to let you push me away again. I love you. I need you. And most importantly, Becks, I know you need me too. Tell me the last few days haven’t hurt for you? They had to have, because I’ve been in agony being away from you. All I can do is work and write music. I could have dropped another dozen songs at your house, each one declaring my feelings for you.”

  Becca wasn’t about to lie to him; she couldn’t. “Yes, okay, I’ve been sad this week. But sad isn’t a bad thing. I’m sad because I know that by denying myself, Angel Rochon can have the life meant for him. Go to Seattle, go to New York, be a musician or a song writer. Join a band, tour bad bars until you hit it big. Be the person you are supposed to be,” she urged. It hurt to say the words but she was starting to realize the reason she wanted so much for him, the reasons she was willing to be without him, was because she loved him enough to push him away.

  Hell. She loved Angel Rochon. The thought rocked her world and caused her vision to blur.

  Warm hands wrapped around her arms, and her eyes cleared.

  “Look at me,” he said, his finger under her chin tilting it up to him. “Loving you is the man I am supposed to be. No music, no career, no fame could ever compare to being able to say that Rebecca Kelly loved me. That is my only goal in life. To spend every moment showing you how much I cherish you and need you in my life.”