Darker Water
“Kevin was my last frog.” I didn’t look at Kevin when he made a what-the-hell sound. My eyes were glued to Carson’s because...well, because he mattered.
“Wow.” He laughed through tight lips and looked away, shaking his head slightly. “Okay. I’ll go.” Then he glared at Kevin. “You fuck her over again, and I’ll turn you into road kill. Understand?” He handed me the other cup of coffee without making eye contact and backed out of the room.
Kevin grumbled something or protested or did some male posturing, but I didn’t pay attention. My focus stayed on Carson. Did it matter if he thought something was going on? Yes, of course it did. Especially because he’d been so clear about saying he’d let me know before he slept with someone and I should do the same. But I hadn’t slept with anyone, so whatever Carson thought was an assumption he’d made.
That wasn’t fair. “Carson, listen—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
As if that was possible. But maybe whatever he thought had happened would keep some much-needed space between us until I was sure I was okay. No one would get their feelings hurt and we could spend time together while the emotions that shouldn’t be had a chance to cool down and be put to rest.
I followed him back to the door. “Want to meet tomorrow?”
“Why?”
I grabbed his jacket so he wouldn’t walk away. “Because I want to see you.”
He glanced back towards the living room. “He cheated on you so you’ll pay him back, is that it?”
“What? No.” I scrambled for an answer, stuck in a lie I hadn’t even verbalized. But I hadn’t corrected him, either, told him whatever he was thinking was wrong. “Kevin just wanted to talk.”
“I’m sure he did.” He looked down to what I was wearing again. “I guess whatever he said worked.”
“That’s—”
“I know, not fair. You’re right. Apology number four. You can do whatever you want. Just…” He wiped his hand across his mouth. “Just be careful. Okay?” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I can’t meet tomorrow. Maybe later in the week sometime. I’ll call you.”
No, he wouldn’t. Because he knew I wouldn’t sleep with two men at the same time. So whatever it was that we were doing would stop because he thought Kevin and I were back together. I watched him walk down the hall, wondering how something so right could go so wrong so quickly. I’d wanted a little space, not a continent.
Instead of saying anything, I was silent. My mind was going in too many directions, and I hurt in a way I wasn’t sure I had a right to hurt in. For all I knew, this was his way out. Maybe while I’d been avoiding him, he’d been avoiding me. And maybe he’d just come over here to say he was done with me.
Well, tough shit. Because I wasn’t done with him.
I just needed a little time to figure out what I wanted to do. I wouldn’t lie to him, but I had to understand what I felt, thought, and wanted before I could be honest with him.
“Carson,” I called. “I’m coming over later.”
He turned around without stopping and shrugged. “If you want to.”
“I do.” As soon as he was gone, I went back inside to get rid of Kevin. My conversation with Carson couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
I went into the living room. “I have a busy day planned and—”
“Sure. I won’t take too much of your time.” He didn’t get up or leave, though. If he wanted to talk, maybe I could encourage him to talk quickly, so he would leave quickly.
“So… How’s...what was her name again?” I knew the name of my replacement because I’d spent months reliving that relationship and trying to figure out what I’d missed, what I’d done wrong, and what I should have done differently. Even though Kevin had broken my heart and I didn’t want anything to do with him, I’d still obsessed about it for more time than I’d ever admit to.
“Brittany,” he said. “She wants to have our marriage annulled.”
“Wow.” My eyes flew to his hand, stopping on the gold band he wore. “You really married her. I didn’t know.” It didn’t mean anything was different. It just confirmed that all the months I’d spent sobbing and googling wedding announcements had been a complete waste of time.
“In August.” Meaning, a month after he’d broken up with me. Tops. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for a reaction, I guess. But honestly, I couldn’t think of a single reason I would care.
“Congratulations on the wedding,” I said, hoping we could wrap this up quickly and he’d go away. “And sorry about the divorce. Did you try therapy?” For any of his issues?
“It was too fast.” He shook his head and gave me what I now knew was his ‘feel sorry for me and do something to make me feel better’ face. That look used to make my heart clench. Now it made my stomach clench—there was a good chance I’d throw up on him. “We didn’t know each other well enough.”
“Really?” I couldn’t hide my smile as I leaned my hip against the back of the couch. “But you guys were dating for, like, three weeks before you proposed. How could that possibly not have been enough time to get to know each other?”
“I knew you’d be bitter.”
I laughed. “This isn’t bitter. This is over it.” The bitterness stopped once I realized how much I owed Brittany. Without her, I might be living with the bastard right now.
“I wish it would’ve ended differently, Laney. I want you to know that.”
“See, there’s proof that I’m not bitter. A few months ago I would’ve been pissed by the way you phrased that—‘it would’ve ended differently’. As if you had nothing to do with it. As if you accidentally stuck your dick into someone else and lied about it for an entire month. Or more, I guess. I’m still unclear about the timing, but it doesn’t matter. And I’m not mad. If it hadn’t happened, I would still be right where I was.” Afraid to be honest with someone who’d never bothered to ask what I wanted out of life. He’d never been to my shop, never even asked me about my art.
I got out of that dysfunctional relationship and now was in a much healthier, dysfunctional non-relationship. At least I knew Carson wanted what was best for me. Kevin never cared about that.
“We weren’t good together,” I said.
“Yeah, we were.” He stood.
“No, we weren’t. I forgot I had my own thoughts and needs, and you were okay with that. Didn’t you ever wonder if I had an opinion of my own?” I was a doormat he enjoyed wiping his feet on and sleeping with. What kind of man wants someone like that? “I love being able to pick where I go for dinner, to leave a place when I feel like it, and to not be obligated to do what someone else wants to do.” Those were things Carson didn’t ask for or want to control.
“I never want to go back to that,” I said. “Not because you did anything wrong, but because I did. I was afraid to be myself because I didn’t think you would stay with me if I was, so I pretended to be someone else. Of course, the irony is that you dumped me anyway. But I’m really happy now.” Happier than I’d ever been. Satisfied.
I couldn’t wait to see Carson and tell him most of it was his fault. Not because he made me happy, because he let me be.
It took Kevin a while to respond, as if he were still weighing his chances. “Okay. We’ll just be friends then.”
I nodded. “That would be…” Then I stopped nodding. “No, it wouldn’t. I wasn’t honest with you back then because I didn’t know what I wanted. I never lied to deliberately hide something from you. But you did. You lied, knowing it was lying, and you cheated, knowing it would hurt me. So no, I don’t want to be friends.”
“People should be allowed to have a second chance, Laney.”
“You’re totally right. People should be allowed to choose who they let into their lives, too. I’m a different person now and have a better life. Why would I let you into it?”
“So, that’s it? That’s how it’s going to end?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly how it’s going
to end.” I swung my arm towards the door, a none-too-subtle hint that he should go. “There are no hard feelings, though. I hope you have a great life, Kevin. I really do.”
His expression turned from forlorn to angry, and I knew that whatever he said next would be out of spite.
“You’re fucking that guy, aren’t you?”
It couldn’t be any further from being his business, but it didn’t matter. “Yep.”
“He thought we’d slept together and then walked out without saying anything. Do you know what that means, Laney? When a guy doesn’t give a shit about who you fuck, it means he doesn’t give a shit about you. You’re just something to jerk off into.”
“Wow. That was classy.” And an insight into how Kevin thought of me when we were together. I regretted ever saying anything. I regretted ever letting him into the apartment. I regretted ever letting him into my life.
“You need to leave now, Kevin.”
He stood so quickly, I flinched backwards. “Don’t be like that.”
I backed up a few more steps. “Go away. Now.”
He stood there staring at me, his jaw tight. “I care about you, Laney. More than he ever will. I never would’ve walked out.”
“You did walk out, and now you should do it again.”
“Laney, I made a mistake. I know it was a mistake.”
“A mistake? Every time you chose to fuck someone who wasn’t me was a mistake. Every time you lied to me about it was a mistake. So it was way more than ‘a’ mistake, and the only reason you’re here admitting it is because Brittany showed you how I felt when you did it to me.” Duped, betrayed, and humiliated. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but none of it had anything to do with me.
“I said I was sorry,” he spat. He’d never intimidated me before, but I’d never said no to him before, either. Was this the real him? “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave.”
I heard a key slip into the unlocked door. Then it swung open and Hillary came in.
“You need to keep the door locked, Lan—” She stopped when she saw us, her gaze darting back and forth between me and Kevin. “Sorry. I’ll just…” She sidled towards her room.
“It’s fine. Kevin was about to leave me alone.”
He snagged the bag of pastries and his coffee from the table and stomped out of the apartment.
“What was that?” Hillary asked.
“I have no idea.” But at least it was over.
Chapter 33 - Carson
I spent the morning fuming about something that I shouldn’t have cared about. Pacing and bitching at myself, getting more and more agitated as I crossed off each excuse as complete bullshit. Or at least not the reason I was so fucking angry.
First reason: Lane and I were friends, and she seemed to be backsliding into a person she didn’t want to be anymore. So it was only natural for me to worry about her getting back together with that fucking asshole frog.
“What the fuck did she ever see in that guy anyway?” I asked the empty room. “He looked like more of a toad than a frog.”
I moved on to the next reason: Lane and I were great together. Sexually, I’d never had a better partner. “I know her favorite position. Why? Because I’ve done it with her a bunch of times, including her first time.” I smacked the door. “Right there.” Her idiot ex never even tried it with her. What kind of man sticks to one position when he’s got someone who’s incredible and hot and generous and adventurous and fun and—? Okay, that wasn’t helping.
So I went on to another reason: Because that dickwad didn’t deserve her. It was a crime against humanity that he even be allowed to touch her.
I stopped pacing, breathing, blinking, all of it.
“Holy shit, that bastard touched her.” And he was going to touch her again. And again. He could touch her whenever he wanted to because she’d gone back to him.
She’d taken him back, knowing what an asshole he was and that he’d probably hurt her again. Why would she do that? She wasn’t the same person she’d been—how many times had she told me that. But if she was stronger now, why go back to that dickhead?
The thought triggered something in me, a huge section of my life that I wished I could forget. People couldn’t change no matter how much they wanted to or said they wanted to. Lane went back to her frog because that’s what she thought she deserved—someone who would lie and cheat.
All the things I would never do to her. Ever.
My heart rate kicked up a few notches and my crazy mumbling started again, cursing Lane for backsliding. She was fucking tough. So much stronger than Renee ever was. I watched my mother take punch after punch, slap after slap, suck in a breath and then go right back in before the bruises were even gone. And I couldn’t stop her.
When I’d finally understood how a man should behave, how he should treat the people he loved, I hated my mom. For being weak, for putting us into fucked-up situation after fucked-up situation. It was her fault as much as it was my father’s or the other bastards she brought into our lives, including Anna’s dad. It was her fault because it was her choice to go back and to take me with her.
My vision blurred, because it was my fault, too. I could have done something to protect her. From the men and from herself. I should’ve fought harder, tried to hit back, dragged my mother out of the house if I had to.
I hadn’t done shit back then. I hadn’t done shit when I saw Lane do the same fucking thing. Nothing ever changes. I walked away from her without saying anything, even though I knew what she was in for with that prick, how badly she’d get hurt again. And I’d done nothing to stop it from happening.
Someone knocked on my door. I froze for a second, trying to gain control over the uncontrollable. I shouldn’t open it, not when my emotions were so raw. Even if I opened it to a deliveryman, I’d probably go fucking insane on his ass. If it was—
“Carson, it’s me,” Lane called.
Ignoring all the danger signs, I bolted for the door, yanked it open, and dragged her inside. I slammed her against the door as soon as it shut and kissed her. Hard. Possessively.
If she remembered how good everything felt a week ago, how right, then she wouldn’t go back to the frog. She wouldn’t be able to. I had to stop her from making the wrong decision. Protect her. I couldn’t let her turn from the person I respected most in the entire world back into a woman she had no respect for. She was worth so much more than that.
I couldn’t think right. My lips were on hers and I could taste her, but everything was moving too fast. Focus. I had one goal. One thing to accomplish in my sorry excuse for a life—stop Lane from going back to him. How?
If I reminded her how we were together, how good we were together, she’d forget about Kevin. I made her feel good. How many times had she told me that? Kevin never made her scream or fall apart when she came. None of her frogs did.
I did. I could make her understand she didn’t need him by doing the only thing I was good at. The only thing I could offer her.
As my teeth and lips moved to her neck, her nails dug into my chest and it drove me fucking insane. Lust and fear took over all my anger and guilt until I didn’t think anymore. I didn’t hurt anymore. I could only do.
I lifted her skirt and slid my hand into her panties, tugging them to the side. Fuck, her body was always ready, on fire and slick. The echo of her calling my name stopped when I took her mouth again and yanked open my jeans so I could get to my cock. She loved this position—up against the door, hard and dirty.
It wasn’t the sex itself that was going to help. It was a reminder of the moments when she completely let go, stopped thinking and judging and caring about anything or anybody else.
“…can’t do this!” When she shouted it, I stopped, dragging air into my lungs. I was almost inside her, my cock already lined up to take her.
Was I already too late? She was so fucking good. If she was with him, she’d only be with him. And she’d never be with me agai
n. Never.
“Just once, Lane,” I begged her quietly. “He cheated a lot, right? So you can do it just this once.” With me. Please, let me be with her one more time. “Just once.” I was so full of shit. I didn’t want just once—I wanted just always.
“Stop!” Her eyes were huge and welling with tears while her entire body pressed into the door even after I stopped pushing her into it. “Please, Carson. Just stop.”
Fuck. How long had she been saying that without me hearing her?
I jerked away, shoving my cock back in my pants, my hands shaking. Countless apologies pouring out of my mouth, none of them clear because they were coming out so quickly and because my mind was too confused, bouncing from understanding her fear to knowing I’d failed again. I failed really fucking well.
“I wasn’t—” I stepped back, giving her room to move. To leave.
“Stop,” she mumbled, not looking at me. She straightened her skirt while I stood frozen, awaiting the verdict. “You can’t do that. You can’t… I came here because we needed to talk, not… Jesus, Carson.” She looked at me with moist, wounded eyes, eyes that reflected the part of myself I most feared. The part I most hated.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought—” It didn’t matter what I thought. It mattered what I did and, if she hadn’t said stop, I would have picked her up and slid inside her without even realizing I was forcing her. “I’m so sorry, Lane.”
“Yeah well… I don’t care.” She yanked the door open and left, slamming it behind her.
Chapter 34 - Laney
The next week was awful. Everything seemed to be going wrong in every part of my life. Why was that? Why couldn’t one catastrophe happen at a time?
I was supposed to be working on the lily pad tables, but no matter how much I looked, the right size, shape, and quality of wood just wasn’t there. So I ended up spending all my time looking for supplies and none of my time building or working on any of the refinishing projects I’d been hired to do. And the worst part was… Okay, there were two worst parts: none of that frustration and concentration kept my mind off Carson and since he wasn’t around, I didn’t have anyone to bitch to.