by Myers, K. L.
So much, it felt like the sun shone when he smiled at me and the heavens cried when he was sad. And I let him die without hearing me say I loved him. I’m a selfish bitch.
I have been with Brecken too.
I demanded he kill me, and I would willingly die. For what I’ve done to Abe, I deserve it. But after hearing Brecken’s confession, I understand what Jamal meant. I didn’t know what it was I was asking of Brecken, and I won’t ask it anymore.
I don’t know where we go from here. The answers refuse to come to me, but I can’t keep guilting him for breaking his word.
Forcing myself from the bed, I shower and dress. I take a little extra time applying makeup to cover the red blotches from crying and dry my hair straight. I don’t look great, but I’m presentable. It will have to do.
The house is quiet as I descend the stairs. So quiet I wonder if Jamal and Brecken are even here. Maybe they tired of my bullshit and left me. I wouldn’t blame them.
Afraid to disturb the quiet of the house, I tiptoe. Past the dining room and the kitchen, through the hallway and the sitting room, to Brecken’s office door. I stand perfectly still and listen but hear nothing. Maybe I should just go back to my room.
Stop being a coward, Willow.
But I am a coward. I’m afraid to face my fears. It’s why I didn’t start a family with Abe. I was scared I would be a terrible mom. That I wouldn’t be able to love a child the way I love my characters. I was terrified of failing.
I wish I had admitted that to Abe. We could have worked things out. Maybe he would still be here.
Then I wouldn’t be here. Standing outside this door, preparing myself to do something I’m not sure I’m ready to do. Actually, I’m sure I’m not. I’m scared to death of what is going to happen when I do.
And that’s why I have to do it.
No more being selfish. No more being a coward. It’s time to face my fears.
I raise my hand and knock. Seconds that feel like hours pass before I hear a sound. Footsteps sound to the thump... thump... thump... thump of my heart. The doorknob turns, and my eyes are transfixed on it until the door opens and the man who could be all my fears come to life stands before me.
“I’m ready to accept whatever it is you feel I deserve.”
17
Evolving
Brecken
For days I’ve contemplated marching up the stairs, slamming through the door, and dragging her from her self-imposed isolation. I’ve toyed with the idea of showing her exactly who is boss in this house, but that’s what she wants, isn’t it? The Monster. And didn’t I already decide that’s not what she needs?
So, I’ve remained quiet, moping in my office as I prayed she’d emerge. Now that she has, I’m at a loss for what to say or do. I’m in shock she’s here. And that she’s conceding to me.
Does she understand what that means?
“What are you ready for, Willow? What do you think I’m offering?”
Her green eyes shift from my face, to the floor, to the crack in the door between us. “What’s in there?” she asks, avoiding my question.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
I expect a fight—for her to be the spitfire who’s been all piss and vinegar since she’s arrived here. I brace for her to try and force her way into my space, but she doesn’t. She simply shrugs and looks away. And that’s when I see it—the truth.
It’s so shockingly obvious, I nearly buckle from the weight of it. Willow may be ready to accept what I can offer, but nothing has changed. She still wants to die.
It’s all in her eyes.
The sparkle is gone, and I’m not sure I’m man enough to bring the light back. I don’t know that any power on this earth can. Willow is lost in a place I’m not sure I’m allowed to follow. I want to, but I don’t know where to begin the search.
“I saw you once,” I say lightly, afraid of my own admission.
“When you were watching me?” Her eyebrow rises in curiosity.
I smile, but not at her assumption. The memory of how beautiful she was that day brings me joy. Of how alive she was. I want that for her again. For her to thrive and share her radiance with the world.
“It was almost three and a half years ago. I was in San Francisco for a charity event. I was staying in the same hotel that was hosting the... what was the name of the signing? I think it was the Books and—”
“Books and Boyfriends Signing Event,” she finishes for me. “You were there?”
“Not at the signing itself, but the doors were open as I walked by, and there you were.”
“I didn’t see you.”
A soft chuckle escapes me at her thinking she would have. “You only had eyes for your readers. You were glorious.”
“I was?”
It saddens me how she questions herself. That she doesn’t understand the remarkable woman she is. I’m not sure I’ll be able to save her, but I’ll gladly give up my last breath trying.
Unable to take the space between us any longer, I step out of my office and close the door behind me. Willow doesn’t move or make any attempt to see what I hide in that closed in room. She just stands in front of me, a broken woman. I can’t take it.
Reaching out, I cup her cheek and caress her soft skin. “Your eyes were sparkling, and your smile lit up the room.”
“That can’t be true,” she whispers.
She really doesn’t get it. Her sparkle was brighter than a million stars twinkling in a dark night sky. And her smile is one that would make a man want to move mountains. She holds all the power, is able to bring me to my knees with a look, if only she weren’t so shattered.
“Oh, Willow. If only I could give you the gift of yourself.”
“That’s not a very good gift.” Her words come out on a broken sob as a tear rolls down her cheek and lands on my hand.
“It’s a gift I would happily unwrap every day.”
Bending forward, I place a gentle kiss on her wet cheek. Her tears begin to fall harder, and her sobs grow louder. I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly as she cries for the woman she once was.
We stand in the hallway while she unloads her sorrow into my chest. I rub circles on her back and whisper, “You’ll be okay,” every few minutes, hoping my words bring her comfort.
“I don't know who that woman is,” she squeaks out between sniffles.
“I know you don't,” I reply, feeling that truth like a kick to the nuts. The pain consumes me, threatens to knock me down, but makes me want to fight back. “I'm going to help you find her,” I promise.”
Tear-soaked eyes peer up at me. “You think she's still in here?”
“I know she is.”
For the slightest second, I see it. A spark. I'm not sure if it's a spark of hope, life, or who she once was, but I'll take any of them. Willow Summers is in there. She just needs help finding her way out.
Luckily for her, I'm happy to help.
18
Feelings Change
Willow
Brecken's arms are wrapped so tightly around me it's like being swathed in a blanket on a cold day. Warmth transfers from him into my freezing heart and wakes up feelings I thought were long buried. His belief in me churns up desires I don't know how to ignore.
I don't know if I want to.
Lost in his smile, in the sincerity of his blue eyes, and the moment, I let go. Of my worries. Inhibitions. Myself. Without thought, I rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
His body stiffens before relaxing, but when he let’s go too... it’s magic.
I grip onto his shirt, trying to grab hold of anything—everything. I need him like I need air. His body against mine. His hands on my cheeks. Him kissing me like it’s our last moment together. I need this to breathe life back into me.
I press into him, trying to snuff out any molecule of space between us as I moan into his mouth. Oh, that mouth. Soft. Warm. Wet. All words I’d use to describe what I have waiting for him in my pants
... if only I had the thought to speak. All I can do is feel.
And I want to feel more.
My hands roam down his back, digging and rubbing as they go. Fuck, I want him. I want him to make me forget why it hurts. To make me believe it can get better. I just want.
“Not like this,” Brecken huffs as he rips himself away from me. Cold seeps into the space between us, and I try to move back into him, but he shakes his head, his eyes downcast and sad. Why is he sad?
I should be sad. He rejected me. He fucking rejected me. I put myself out there. I tried to live like he told me to do, and he pushed me away. I don’t understand.
“You don’t want me?” The tremble to my voice says it all. He hurt me, and now he knows it. I’m so damn weak.
“Oh, Willow, no. I mean... yes. Fuck!” he roars, startling me.
He begins pacing, walking back and forth in front of me, and I can do nothing but stare. I’m not sure if I should comfort him or kick him in the nuts. How dare he make me more confused?
“You have no idea how badly I do want you.”
“Then why did you push me away?” I shout, allowing my anger to boil over.
He stops in front of me and grabs my hands. I want to rip them away. To show him how it feels, but his hands are so warm. I like the warmth. So, I stand before him, staring into those blue eyes that threaten to drown me, and wait.
“I want it to be right for both of us. Not a moment of weakness or done when too emotional to think straight. I want you to choose me.”
“I did. I am,” I argue, but he doesn't flinch. He just stares at me like he's reading my soul.
“I want you to mean it when you choose me. No regrets.”
“I did choose you, and you turned me down.”
Brecken shakes his head. “I would never turn you down.”
“You just—”
He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. His lips curl up, and I can't think of a single reason he should be smiling. But here he stands, smiling at me like we aren't in an argument.
“Give me a few days.”
What? How does a few days fix my hurt feelings now?
“Whatever, Brecken. We both know you’ll do what you want.”
I start to walk away, but his hand coming down on my arm stops me. “Please.”
His voice is gentle, soft in ways it never is with him. Damn it, why do I care how he sounds? Without turning back, I ask, “Why?”
I'm tired. Tired of fighting with him. Fighting this life. I'm just tired.
“Let me show you what it feels like to truly choose me.”
Shaking my head in frustration, I want to scream at him. To shout again that I did choose him, but instead, I say, “Fine. Three days, Brecken. Then I go home.”
His arms wrap around me from behind, startling me and awakening a need to be cared for. I hate that I want him to care. That I care how he feels about me. I need to get away, to clear my head, but I'll be damned if it doesn't feel like heaven with his arms around me.
“Thank you,” he says before releasing me.
I begin to walk away and only falter in step slightly when I hear, “You won't be sorry.”
I already am, but I can't say that to him, so I keep walking. Straight to my room. I don't stop until I'm closed behind the door. It’s still not far enough from him. My breathing is too fast. My chest aching. Fucking Brecken Wade. He's piecing my broken heart back together.
And it hurts to admit it.
* * *
Boredom takes over quickly, but I refuse to leave the room. If I don't see Brecken, his plan can't come to fruition. Avoidance is key, I think with a grin.
He's so smug, always thinking he has the answers. Well, I'll show him. Let’s see how Mr. Control The Universe likes it when things don’t go his way.
Lying on my back, head pressed into the pillow, I raise my legs and pretend I’m riding a bicycle. It can’t hurt to get a little exercise in while I’m locked away from temptation. And what a temptation Brecken is. I’ve gone so long being numb to everything, feeling arousal now makes me angry.
Brecken is not Abraham. I shouldn’t want him. But I do. It’s fucking infuriating. Infuriating as it is, it doesn’t stop me from envisioning his naked body covering mine.
A small scraping sound distracts me from my thoughts of Brecken stripped down. And it’s a good thing. I shouldn’t think of him that way anyway. It doesn’t help my cause of staying away from him. It makes me want to run straight to him.
Looking to the door, I’m surprised at a white envelope sliding underneath. What the hell is he up to?
I want to ignore it, him, but the need to know what’s in the envelope is too strong, so I drop my legs and sit up. For a minute or two, I stare, arguing with myself that I don’t need to know what’s inside, but ultimately, I give in. I don’t know why I thought I wouldn’t.
Brecken always wins.
Stomping across the room, I rip the envelope from the floor and tear into it. A folded piece of paper awaits me, and I pull it out, opening it to find Brecken’s perfect script scrawled across it.
Willow,
If you won’t come out, then I guess I have to come to you. I’m willing to, you know? I’ll beg if that’s what you need. If that’s what it takes to show you how remarkable you are. I will humiliate myself to show you, you have the power here. Until then, please accept the gifts I offer. When you’re ready, open the door. There’s a basket waiting for you.
Brecken
I turn the paper in my hand a few times before I open the door. A gigantic wicker basket with a red bow full of large wrapped gifts sits in the hallway. Brecken is nowhere to be seen. I bend and scoop the basket up and bring it back into my room. It’s freaking heavy.
As I walk, I can’t help but feel like I’m playing right into what he wants, but it doesn’t stop me from placing the basket on the bed and grabbing the first wrapped package. It’s been so long since I’ve been given a gift that I smile involuntarily as I rip through the paper.
A long box greets me. I waste no time taking the top off and frowning at the tissue paper that’s blocking me from seeing the present inside. Quickly, I pull the paper aside, and gasp.
A stunning emerald-green strapless dress lies folded in the box. I lift it from the box and just stare at it. It’s floor length, with a long slit up the leg. Elegant. Sexy. Head turning. The words pass through my mind as I hold the soft fabric in my fingers.
Laying it gently on the bed, I grab the next package and open it. A chuckle escapes as I peer down at lingerie the color of the dress. Leave it to Brecken to see to the tiniest of details.
I place the lingerie next to the dress and grab the next package, feeling more like a kid with each gift I open. Black strappy stilettos are next. I can’t stop myself from smiling. Brecken obviously has something planned that he wants me dressed up for.
Too bad, I’m not leaving this room.
A small package is next, and I hesitate before opening it, wondering if I should be accepting these gifts when I have no intention of using them. Please, you’re too curious what they are not to open them. I laugh at my wayward thoughts. They’re right. I am curious, so I reach down and grab the gift.
I shouldn’t have. A diamond and emerald necklace with matching bracelet and earrings sparkle at me. It’s too much. What is he thinking?
I’m not worth this.
I have to give it all back.
Shoveling everything into my arms, I’m about to drop it back into the basket when I see another package. What the hell could that be? I’ve already opened a full outfit.
I drop it all onto the bed and grab the final gift. Confusion fills every fiber of my being as I open the present. A laptop sits inside a bag with two notebooks and a few pens. What the hell is Brecken getting at with this?
Another envelope sits inside the bag, and I have to take several breaths before I work up the courage to grab it. I open it slowly, petrified of how his words can hurt me. Brecken’
s last letter said I have the power, but he doesn’t understand that he has the power to decimate me. A few words, and he can shatter the shallow hold I have on life.
Please don’t let this letter do that.
One more breath, and I open the letter.
Willow,
I’m impressed you made it this far. I wasn’t sure you’d make it past the lingerie.
I laugh, despite the nerves eating me alive.
The jewelry was a bit much. I do know that, but as soon as I saw it, I knew it would look beautiful on you. I’m only hoping you’ll allow me to see it. I know you’re confused. You don’t know what my intentions are, or if you should trust me. Let me clear things up. I only want the three days you said you’d give me, and I plan to get them. I will drag you from the room if I have to, but I’d prefer if you came out willingly. I told you, I want you to choose me. Please start choosing me now. Put on the presents I gave you and meet me in the dining room at six. But first, I want you to start finding you. The notebooks and pens are the beginning of that. You haven’t mentioned wanting to write since being here, but I know there’s a brilliant writer trapped inside of you. Here’s me begging. Take one of the notebooks and pens and go stand in front of the mirror. Write down what you see when you look at yourself. Do it again after you’re dressed to meet me. Small steps lead to giant gains. The laptop is yours when you’re ready for those gains. I look forward to dinner.
Brecken.
He’s so arrogant. And bossy. He just assumes I’ll go to dinner. You know you will. “Shut up, brain.”
It’s pointless to stand here arguing with myself. I’ll go. Not because he told me to, but because I told him I’d give him three days. I’ve never been one to walk away from a deal. Damn him for reminding me of that.
But writing… who is he to tell me it’s time to write again? Maybe he cares. “I said shut up.” Mad because I’m right.