by Kat T. Masen
“Yeah, so explain to me how that ended?”
She shuffles uncomfortably. “I made a mistake, okay?”
I point my finger directly at her face. “You messed with the wrong person.”
“She n-needed me,” she sputters, momentarily beyond words. “You weren’t there for her. I was.”
“And I have to live with that everything fucking day.”
Staring into her eyes, my expression turns bitter. It stems from a never-ending dark void that consumes everything I do. I’m this close to losing my entire reason for living. If this is a competition, and her aim was to break me, then she’s succeeded.
I’m fucking broken without Presley.
I haven’t slept, nor have I eaten. I’m struggling to mask this pain any longer, unable to bury it into the depths of my soul and pretend everything will be fine. The pain has resurfaced, demanding attention. It’s a constant stab into the heart and mind, stinging with every breath I take.
I’m nothing without Presley by my side.
For better or for worse.
We are at our worse.
And somehow, someway, we need to find our way back to better.
I turn my back and walk to the door, stopping just shy of the entrance. “Clear out your desk by Monday,” I order, full of conviction. “Your services are no longer needed at Indie Press.”
I don’t care what it will cost me.
All the money in the world would be worth every cent spent as long as Presley is back in my arms.
I turn on my phone to see the tracker had been activated, and there she is, sitting in the middle of Times Square on the iconic red steps.
The cab driver can’t drive any slower. Demanding he stop, I throw some money at him and exit quickly. With road work, running toward Times Square will be quicker.
It’s just after six in the morning, the sunrise peeking over the tall buildings. There are people walking around, few and far between the normally over-populated area. I’ve lost track of all time, having been awake since the moment she told me she needed time to think.
In front of me are the infamous red steps and sitting in the middle is Presley.
My breath is caught in my throat.
I desperately want to touch her, make sure warm blood pumps through her veins, and her presence is real, not a fixation of my imagination.
I take my time walking toward her, watching the way she stares blankly at the space in front of her. She’s dressed in a denim jacket, a pair of sweats and sneakers, her hair loose against her back.
As I sit beside her, she doesn’t even flinch.
Perhaps I’m too late.
I follow her gaze, staring straight ahead into the slow-building crowd. These minutes feel like hours, the silence between us greater than the words needing to be said.
I don’t know how to start, how to beg for her to come back to me.
“A wise man once said that New York has so much noise it forces you to drown out the noise in your head,” she says in a placid tone.
“Presley…” I stumble on my words, unsure how to get through this.
“I blamed myself for the miscarriage. I was so lost that I blamed myself for everything that happened,” she says, faintly.
I place my hand on hers, the touch shooting to every inch of my body like a shot of morphine. It kills me, tears my heart to pieces, how inside her mind she feels worthless.
Her big brown eyes glimmer with watery tears, and I know she feels as if her whole world has crumbled.
She lowers her head, quiet sobs beating against her chest. “I feel like a failure… career-wise, as a mother, and a woman.”
“But you didn’t fail,” I remind her, gently. “Your career is soaring. Masen adores you, and the doctor said miscarriage is common.”
“But I failed.”
Her tears are more than just crying. It’s the kind of desolate sobbing which comes from a person drained of all hope. The sound is heartbreaking, and beside her, I feel completely helpless.
Through my own glassy eyes, I place my arms around her, allowing her to sob into my chest. The grief surges with every expelled breath, tearing the both of us to pieces in a way we never imagined experiencing together.
People around us look, but I don’t give a goddamn shit what they think. My wife is in pain, and everything she feels transfers to me.
“Look at me,” I beg of her. Her eyes meet mine, glazed and full of guilt. “I felt like I failed, too, in so many ways. But here we are, feeling like we failed, yet we both know it wasn’t us. The emotions consumed us, neither one of us have grieved. I failed you.”
“I’m sorry,” she cries, hiccupping in between. “You pushed me to take time off, you tried to get me to grieve, but I just bottled it up. I never wanted the baby because I was too caught up being selfish. I blamed you for making me pregnant. But when we lost the baby, I thought it was all my fault. Karma came back two-fold.”
I trace her cheek with the tip of my finger, wiping away her falling tears. “And I shouldn’t have pushed you to have another baby. It’s driven us apart,” I admit, my voice croaking from the raw admission.
“I want more kids, but I miss me. I miss who I used to be.”
“And Masen and me?”
“My life doesn’t exist without both of you. I just don’t know how to balance it all.”
I place her cheeks in my hands, caressing her warm skin. “I’m not perfect, but whatever you need, I’m here. For better or for worse.”
Presley rests her forehead against mine, our noses scraping against each other. We close our eyes, simultaneously, our breaths shaking as we stay in this position.
“I love you, Haden,” she says in barely more than a whisper.
“You don’t know how much I need to hear that.” I grin, squeezing her hands. “I fucking love you, Presley Cooper… sorry Malone Cooper.”
She smiles. “Just Cooper… it has a better ring to it.”
My lips brush against hers, and instantly, the world falls away. It is slow and soft, comforting in ways that words will never be. I rest my hand below her ear, caressing her cheek with my thumb as our breaths mingle. She runs her fingers up my chest, pulling me closer with her other hand until there is no space left between us.
“Let’s go,” she says, pulling me up, then lacing her hand in mine.
“Where do you want to go?”
“I have an idea.”
#BITCH
The wind blows against my unruly hair as I laugh into the cool winter air.
The tour guide is telling jokes while tourists listen eagerly, and beside me, I curl my arm into Haden’s.
We have done so many things in this city while we lived here but never something so simple.
“I can’t say I’ve ever ridden on this bus,” Haden says, unsure. “It’s such a different way to view the city, and do you think they recycle these headphones?”
Laughing, I lean in and kiss his cheek. “That’s what the old Presley would have asked.”
“Wait, so no more matching socks and color-coded rows in my drawer?”
“Maybe I’ll mix it up,” I tease him. “Zig when you think I’m going to zag.”
His brows lift with curiosity as the corner of his mouth quirks up. “You’re such a tease. I give you one day before you’re reorganizing the new house and start labeling my underwear or something.”
In all this mess, I completely forgot about the new house. We have another week left in our bungalow, and although it pains me to say goodbye, the excitement of a fresh start is exactly what I need.
I shake my head. “No, I need to relax. Some things are out of my control.”
Taking a deep breath, I watch the city pass us by, my chest radiating with happiness as I experience this moment with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Beside him, I realize I can do anything I set my heart out to do. Haden always supports me, and when we argue, it is warranted. He wants us to achieve the best and pushing my
mindset out of my comfort zone is not a bad thing. He challenges me like no other person has. And yes, on more than one occasion, he makes jerk-like decisions, but on reflection, it is with good intentions.
“I feel as though I’m seeing it all for the very first time.”
Haden grins, kissing my hand. “I miss seeing you this happy.”
I turn to stare into his hazel eyes, savoring the way he gazes at me as if I am the air he breathes. “I miss seeing us this happy.”
Leaning in, he places his warm lips against mine. Unable to contain myself, I hold his head in my hands, pulling him into a fiery and passionate kiss until we pull apart, our breathing shaky and uneven.
My eyes glance sideways as the tour guide watches with an annoyed gaze.
“I don’t think he’s too happy we’re making out on his bus.” I giggle, pulling myself away.
Haden cocks his head to the side. “He doesn’t know the hell we’ve been through, but I’ll behave for now.”
The sightseeing tour gives you the flexibility to see famous New York attractions at your own pace. We drive past the Empire State Building and One World Trade Center. We stop off at Brooklyn, had lunch by the water before hopping back on the bus and back to Manhattan. As we take in all the sights and architecture, we reach our final destination of Central Park and hop off.
“Where is all your stuff?” I ask him.
“I didn’t bring anything.”
“Nothing?”
“Nada.”
“Not even a toothbrush?”
“Well,” he says, scratching his beard which looks unkempt. “I figured it was the least of my problems, and the city would have supplies.”
“Well, my fancy hotel has toothbrushes.”
“Oh yeah?” Haden smirks with just a small pouting of his lips, a narrowing of the eyes, then tilts his head, his gaze fixated on me. “What else does it have?”
“Those big robes with the initials engraved on the pocket.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“And a large hot tub… with wine.”
“I think you have to order the wine,” he tells me.
“Jacque is quick to bring it up.”
“Jacque?” He raises his brow. “Is this the point where I get jealous because another man is bringing wine to your room?”
“Maybe, if you think I’d have an affair with a man old enough to be my great-grandfather. Jacque is practically part of the furniture in this place.”
“Carry on.”
“Oh, and it has this huge TV with all these channels. Great for watching porn.”
Haden stops dead in his tracks, still holding my hand. “You must have really missed me?”
I wrap my arms around his waist. “I did.”
We take our time, walking slowly through the streets. It is very unlike Haden to be so patient. I half expect him to throw me over his shoulder and have his way with me, but he takes it easy.
As we walk, we talk about buying a place in the city next year if business goes well. I decide to let Haden handle the financial side of things, relieving myself of something which I don’t need to have on my plate. He enjoys it, and as long as we aren’t going bankrupt, I need to trust him.
We make our way back to the room. I swipe my card and pull him in. He follows but stops as soon as the door closes. His posture stiffens, his lips pressing together in a slight grimace.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving toward him with worry.
“When I went to find you, I thought you and Cassandra were…”
His stare falls onto the floor, his feet shuffling as he rubs his ear. I bring my hands to his face, lifting his gaze to meet mine. Guilt washes over me, I shouldn’t have been so careless, especially after Gemma warned me.
“I’d never touch anyone else, willingly,” I assure him.
“She said… well, she hinted something happened.”
I take a deep breath, trying to word this in my head, so I don’t hurt him. “She kissed me,” I admit. “It went longer than it should only because I was in complete shock before it sunk in to pull away.”
“She… she kissed you?” he stutters. “Is that it?”
“She tried to remove my blouse, but I stopped her. I never wanted anything from her but friendship. I was too blinded by my own problems to see she wanted more.”
Haden shakes his head with a tight jaw. “I knew it, Presley. I mean, I don’t blame her. You’re the whole fucking package. I’m just angry I let her manipulate you for so long. I should have pulled you away, made you stop hurting. You needed me.”
I place my finger against his lips to calm him down. “Nothing would have stopped the hurting. It still hurts, but the difference is that now I realize I do have you by my side. That’s what I need, Haden. I need you, all of you, by my side, being my partner.”
His expression remains hard. “I let her go. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I had to make a decision that was best for us.”
I’m not surprised by his callous decision which will cost the business a lot of money, but I understand Haden needed to do this. I don’t blame him, working with her would have been difficult for me. I’m sad to lose her friendship but feel betrayed at the same time. She knew my vulnerabilities and played them well, almost costing me my marriage.
He takes a deep breath, bringing me in for an embrace.
“You’ve got me for life. Ride or die, baby.”
I pull away with a beaming smile.
“Ride or die, huh?” Playing with the buttons of his shirt, I watch his cocky grin fixate on me. “How about you run the bathtub, and I call Jacque. Red or white?”
“You,” he whispers. “I just need to taste you.”
My hands move to the back of his head, clutching his hair in my fists as we fight to get closer to one another. The water swooshes around us as I straddle him inside the giant bathtub. Despite the size of this thing, getting our bearings takes a few moments.
I pull away, out of breath. “Baby, we need to slow down.”
The desire in his eyes, the raw, animalistic hunger is staring back at me. God, I want to combust as I stare back at this gorgeous man. I almost hate myself for wasting time over the last few months.
I lean my body forward, pulling him closer to me as he places his mouth on mine. Every kiss becomes harder, more aggressive, and demanding. He wants to own me—now, here, in this moment. He commands me with his eyes to ride him slowly—an agonizing pace which drives us both insane yet at the same time heightens our senses.
I crumple beneath his touch. Every lick and caress of my heated skin causes me to moan louder. Haden murmurs my name, each syllable dragging against his lips with a raw growl that lingers as he kisses the sweet spot behind my ear.
I wait with bated breath, anticipating his next move, his next touch. My breasts are exposed, water cascading off the tip of my nipples with bubbles surrounding the curve of my breasts. He devours them like a wild beast looking for its next feed, grating his teeth ever so gently as I arch my back and moan in delight.
Impatiently, I push back and grind myself against him, his piercing hitting just the right spot. I’m coming undone, desperate to go faster if it weren’t for the water spilling over the tub.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, nipping at the base of my neck. “The first day I met you, you wore this thin dress. I turned up the AC because your nipples were hard as fuck. Do you know how many times I jerked off to you?”
My heavy breathing becomes a laugh. “You saw that? It was always so cold when you were around.”
He responds with a sly grin, then buries his head between my breasts before circling his tongue around my nipple.
My back arches, the sensation so unbearable I’m ready to tell him I want to finish now.
“I did.” He breathes warmth against my skin. “You were so goddamn hot. There was this bet going on, and let’s say that I threw a ton of money at those fuckers not to go near you.”
“
I should be annoyed. But let’s face it, you would have had me one way or another. And now you’re mine.”
He kisses me deeply, letting out a moan. Haden loves it when I claim him.
“Tell me…” he questions with a smirk, “… are you ready?”
I nod, in love with the way his eyes speak more than his words. His lips crash against mine again, kissing me deeply before he pulls back and stares. He doesn’t move, taking shallow breaths and maintaining his steady gaze.
“Why are you looking at me this way?” I keep my voice low, conscious of the fact that his eyes haven’t left mine.
“Because I could have lost you. I’m so fucking in love with you, it hurts.”
“Ditto.” I smile. “Now, make me come because I’m dying.”
He focuses his attention back on my lips, kissing my mouth with urgency and leaving me without a single breath to catch. My nails claw across his back, which I am sure are leaving marks.
With every move Haden makes, I fall deeper under his spell, allowing him to ravage my body to make up for the time lost.
I’m begging my body to hold on and last just a few minutes longer as he continues to fondle my breasts, while biting his lip. I can see he is awfully close.
My cell begins to ring on the vanity. I brought it in here in case of an emergency if Gemma needs us. We both stop and look at the number. It’s Katrina Mayflower.
“I have to take this,” I tell him.
“Presley, you’re kidding me, right? My dick is inside you.”
“Hello, Katrina?”
I don’t give Haden a chance to say anything, ignoring his hands on my hips as he continues to grind me slowly.
“Hi, Presley, just a quick call. I’m about to take off. Look, your pitch was one of the best I’ve heard. My lawyers have read the contract, and I’m all yours.”
My muscles tighten from excitement causing me to almost drop the phone into the water. “Katrina, you don’t understand how excited I am to work with you. We’re going to do great things.”
“I know you will.” I can almost hear her smile over the phone. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll be in LA next week, so I’ll get my assistant to arrange a meeting.”