This year has taken its toll on me, and I’m so desperate for solitude and peace that I battle with the urge to just let go of what Brooke texted me and what I saw on his profile. The temptation to accept him as is—whether it be true or not—is profound.
He kisses the top of my head before tucking me into the crook of his arm and unlocking the door. Walking into the loft that has become my ivory tower of safety, I grow even more desperate. I need him, and all of this, to be true. I need it so badly because I can’t be without him.
I continue to cling to him, balling his shirt in my hands. He drops his gym bag to the floor and pulls me into his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I need this to be real.”
“You need what to be real?”
Lifting my head from his chest, I look into his eyes, saying, “You.”
“What are you talking about?”
Digging deep, I find a shred of strength and step out of his hold because there’s no way I can think straight when he’s touching me. I need to silence my fears by finding answers to the unknown.
Taking a deep breath, I ask, “Where do you work, Alec?” but my voice comes out weak and scared.
His forehead furrows in confusion. “What?”
“Just tell me.”
“You know where I work,” he says and then adds in frustration, “What’s this all about?”
“Edelman, Vanksen, and Partners, right?”
“If there’s something you want to say, just come out and say it.”
“I got a text from Brooke today,” I tell him. “She said that you don’t work there. That you’re not listed in the company directory.”
“Is that so?” he responds through tight lips. “Well, I guess if she says it’s true then it must be.”
“Alec—”
“And when she told you this, did you just take her word?”
“No,” I admit. “I got on the website and looked as well.”
“Then I guess you know she’s full of shit.”
His statement catches me off guard and confuses me. Shaking my head, I say, “Alec, your name wasn’t on there.”
“No?” He walks over to the office space on the other side of the room where he keeps his laptop. I watch as he leans over his desk and works his fingers over the keyboard. “Come here.”
I make my way over to where he stands and look at the screen where he’s pulled up the directory.
“Do you see a Harrison Demry on that list?”
The moment he says his last name, I kick myself. In my state of panic, I only scrolled through looking for his first name, scanning the list for A’s in search of Alec. And I know Brooke did the same because I’ve never told her his last name. She would’ve called, asking for Alec—just Alec.
“But who’s Harrison?”
Anger splashes in his eyes, and he slams the lid closed. “Me,” he barks. “In business I go by my middle name.”
“Alec, I’m sorry.”
“Have I not proven myself to you? First you question my feelings for you and now you question my integrity,” he lashes out at me, scolding me like a disobedient child, but I don’t cower.
“I’m sorry, but my world is spinning so out of control that I’m desperately searching for something secure and finite to hold on to.”
“Then fucking hold on to me!”
“I want to!” I cry out. “But I’m scared.”
“Why are you so afraid of me?”
“Because you can hurt me more than what I could ever hurt you. Because I’m putting everything on the line for you—I’m risking it all.” I brace my hand on the edge of his desk when my emotions surface and explode. “It’s so simple for you, but it’s not for me. I’m married. I have a family and thirteen years of a life I’ve built with someone else that I’m walking away from.”
“Then go home!”
His voice barrels through the room, bouncing off the wooden floors and echoing against the walls.
My heart stalls while he glares down at me, his nostrils flaring with every threatening breath of his.
“If you can’t trust me, then what the hell are you doing with me?” he seethes. “If you’re so terrified to leave your family, then don’t.”
“So you’re just going to let me go? It’s that easy for you?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you no, so why fucking bother?”
“Then prove me wrong, Alec,” I plead. “You see my stress, you see everything that’s on the line. All I’m asking for is reassurance.”
He stalks away from me, raking both his hands through his hair before turning back to me and losing his shit, shouting, “God dammit! What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Tell me you love me!”
“You think my saying those words will secure me to you? Christ, Victoria, they’re just petty words!”
“Not to me. And you should want to reassure me with them if I tell you that’s what I need, but you’re such a fucking hard ass and refuse to give them to me. Why?”
He turns his back to me and stands there with no response, with no answer, which only fuels my madness. I want to hurt him like he’s hurting me, so I go ahead and piss him off more, asking, “Are there others just like me?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he says to the wall, refusing to look at me.
I carve the truth into a lie, placing all blame on Brooke when I tell him, “In Brooke’s quest to check up on you, she got onto the fetish site where we met. She told me your page was filled with messages and that you had been logged on earlier today.”
“You girls act like children.” He finally turns around, a look of disgust on his face.
“Is it true?”
“How dare you try to make me into the villain here. What? You thought you’d be the one to change me?” he sneers, twisting his features. “You wanted to step into my world, remember? You knew who I was. You knew what I was about and what I was into, and when you chose me, you chose to accept me as is. And for your information, I have friends on that site. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t function as easily as you do in this world, and that site provides me a place to go where I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not.”
“So it’s a place where you can be completely honest?”
“Yes.”
Walking over to him, heart scorching in a fury of flames, I ask, “Then why does it say you’re single?”
He grabs my chin forcefully, digging his fingers into my face, and fires his words. “Because why the fuck would I give my all to a woman who can’t even give me hers?” Pushing my face away, he snaps, “Get out.”
I’ve never been so furious and heartbroken in my life. “I hate you.”
“Funny. I thought you loved me,” he says. “And yet you swear those words aren’t cheap, but you just shit all over them, didn’t you?”
I’m in the frost-killing hour, my petals withering on a slow-dying flower, turning them into puce flakes before they fall from the heart that once provided the sustenance of life.
My hands have never been so dirty. They’re stained in the blood of so many from all the wounds I’ve inflicted upon them. Contempt hates the silence, but here I sit, trapped in a prison of wretchedness.
I’m alone.
My biggest fear teeters on a knife’s edge, tormenting me.
Did I just lose everything for a cheap thrill?
No. I won’t allow myself to reduce what Alec and I have—had.
No matter how much I hurt right now, I can’t deny that he sparked a fire in my soul. But the ignition sent me into flames, blazing, burning—burning—burning, giving me no choice but to cinder until all that remains are ashes on the ground. And now I have to ask myself: Was the ride worth it when in the end we just crashed and burned?
Is it even the end though?
God, I hope not.
Picking up the phone that connects me to him and no one else, I send yet another text.
 
; Me: Please, Alec. Text me back. Call me.
And again, just like the past two days, I get nothing in response.
I haven’t left this hotel room since Alec threw me out of his loft. I can barely stomach food, I haven’t showered, and I refuse to take off the pajama pants that I took from his closet the other week.
Brooke calls and texts me just as much as I’ve been calling and texting Alec. And just like Alec does with me, I ignore her messages and decline her calls, sending them to my voicemail.
I can’t face her.
I’m too embarrassed to admit that not only did I fail with my marriage, but I’ve failed with Alec, the man I thought I was so sure of. I can’t let this happen. I have to find a way to make this work, to save face, to stitch us back together—to keep my pride intact, what little pride I have left.
Me: I was so stupid and out of line. I love you. Please, you have to believe me.
Another groveling text. I’ve sent so many, I’m sure he can smell the stench of desperation.
Looking at the time, I drag myself out of bed and force myself into the shower. I cry when the spray hits my skin, washing away what was left of Alec’s last touch. Water marries with tears, taking my agony down the drain and into the sewers where they belong.
I’m unworthy of heartache.
Taking my time, I do what I can to rid myself of the sadness before Landon arrives, but it’s all for naught. Nothing can release me from this—nothing but him.
Shutting the water off, I shake the thought of Alec out of my head—again, another useless feat.
That man owns me.
With a towel wrapped around me, I walk out of the bathroom and turn on the television in an attempt to drown out my thoughts with a little white noise. Landon is on his way over to talk. Before my fight with Alec, I thought I knew what I was going to say, but now that everything has blown into shards of chaos and confusion, I don’t know what I’m going to tell him. I try not to think too much about it, after all, it’s him that wants to talk to me.
I fix my hair and do what I can to hide the dark circles under my eyes and cover the redness from too many tears shed. Tucking Alec’s sleep pants into one of my suitcases, I turn off my affair phone and hide it away too. My eyes sweep the room for any traces of Alec that may remain from the time he’s spent here.
When Landon’s knock hits the door, anxiety from not knowing what’s about to happen strikes a corded nerve, shooting a rippling of anxiety up my spine. Only one week remains on the deadline he gave me. In one week, if I can’t make a decision, he’ll make it for the both of us, and that’ll be it. We’ll be divorced and starting new lives on our own.
“Hey,” he says in a dank voice that reflects everything we’ve become.
“Hi.”
He walks in slowly and looks around the space he assumes I’ve been living in for nearly a month. I grow uncomfortable, nervous that somehow he’ll see the smear of sex all over this room. The bed, the couch, the desk, the shower, the walls. Alec has fucked me on top of and against every surface of this room.
Can Landon see it? Does he sense it?
Turning around, he looks at me with decaying hope. “Do you know how hard this has been on me?” I stand motionless and unresponsive. “Three weeks of coming home to the kids and no wife, wondering what I could’ve done better. I lie in bed every night and think about you.” He steps toward me and touches me for the first time in so long. As he cups my face in his hands, my heart softens a little. “Tell me I’m not the only one, Tor. Tell me you lie in bed and think about me too.”
Don’t comfort him with lies.
Don’t hurt him with the truth.
Closing my eyes, I avoid speaking and take in a deep breath. His scent fills my lungs, reminding me of everything I stand to lose. The absence of Alec has ripped a hole in the very fibers I’m made of. He refuses to respond to my every attempt at contact.
What if I’ve lost him? What if what’s standing before me is all I was ever meant to have?
I’ve never been alone.
In high school I had Trey, and then I had Landon, and then there was Alec. I’ve always needed a man in my life to fill the void of my father leaving after my parents divorced. I never felt the love of a man as a child, and now I cling to it, cry for it, and need it for survival.
In one hand I have Alec, a man who threw me into a turnstile filled with a blazing passion of love that’s so powerful and so hot it threatens to sear me if I’m not careful. But he shoved me out. He didn’t even fight for me.
And in my other hand I have Landon, a man who built his world around me, gave me two beautiful girls, and gave me a life most would dream of. A life I once dreamt of but no longer do because all the excitement and desire we had has been snuffed out. But unlike Alec, this man fights for me. Unfortunately, it isn’t him I want fighting.
I slip my hands around his wrists as he holds on to me and look into the eyes of what just might be my consolation prize after losing Alec.
“Say something,” he requests, a plea for me to return his sentiment, but I can’t, because when I lie in bed at night, I’m not alone, and it’s not Landon that fills my mind.
When I say nothing, he drops his head to mine, and the closeness tugs at the bloody gash Alec left me with.
I’m so lonely.
With broken hearts and battered souls, our lips touch. Victims in this game called love, we kiss, moving with uncertainty into a gray fog where no understanding resides. Motions happen without choice or approval.
Time slips from existence and we’re on the bed. My hands press into Landon’s back, pulling his weight on top of me.
I’m adrift, wandering aimlessly inside my head of vacancy.
Slowly, our bodies move together, the ache of my broken soul begging to be healed. Clothes fall to the floor, leaving nothing between us except bared flesh and hidden lies. Landon sits on his heels between my open thighs and looks at me with sadness. His eyes drop from mine and drift over every detail of my body, melting time as if he’s locking my every curve into his memory.
A whip lances my heart, slicing a singeing wound into vessels and nerves when his body lowers to mine.
Suddenly, I’m aware of everything.
He slides his cock along my slick pussy.
This is it.
I hold my breath, complete with understanding, and pinch my eyes shut as he takes his time pushing himself inside me. He savors every inch gained until we’re completely coalesced.
This is his goodbye.
Without urgency, without rush, he makes love to me. His hands gently glide over my body while I hold on to him to keep from drowning in pain and regret. Everything about the way he’s looking at me, the way he’s kissing me, the way he’s stroking his cock inside of me, it all screams that this is the last time the two of us will ever be together like this.
Landon whispers kisses along my neck and murmurs against my skin, “I love you,” giving me the words so easily, and I choke on my tears. “You’re so beautiful.”
His adorations tear me apart, and I can’t believe this is actually happening. Our broken bodies sway and rock together, sealing the fate of finality with every kiss, every lick, every breath of pleasure. Tears slip from the corners of my eyes, rolling down the sides of my face and into my hair.
“Tell me you love me,” he says.
“Landon, please . . .”
“It’s been forever since I’ve heard you say it.” His voice is heavy, weighing me down in dissension, and when he says, “You don’t have to mean it. I just want to hear it one last time,” everything I’ve been holding back, claws its way out.
I cry.
It’s ugly and honest and brutally painful.
He kisses trails of salt and then slips his hand between my legs.
A moan erupts through my sobs when his fingers find my clit. With feather-light touches, he drives my body closer to an orgasm I shouldn’t indulge in.
“Say it,” he urges
as he continues to move inside my body.
“Landon, oh, God.” My body jerks up to his, the sizzle of ecstasy electrocuting my bones.
He begins to thrust his hips, and before I throw myself on the sword, I feel him thicken, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge. I cum as our bodies lock firmly together. We hold each other more tightly than we ever have before, with bone-breaking strength as he spills into me. I spasm around his throbs, and in the hurricane of emotions swarming between us, I cry out through my orgasm, “I love you, Landon.”
Sometimes lies soothe.
He pushes into me again, shuddering through his climax, and I comfort him one last time, holding him against my chest. “I love you.”
Collapsing on top of me, his heart beats against mine, a thumping reminder that this is it—we’re finished.
I’m torn with the impulse to wrap my body around him and keep him forever. But I can’t. I know this feeling to cling is because, no matter how far we’ve grown apart, it’s terrifying to let go of security. No one likes saying goodbye, especially me.
Landon rescued my faith in trust when I had lost it with Trey. He was my best friend, my lover, my everything, and to watch it all dissolve into this moment—in this hotel room—is heartbreaking.
He rolls off of me, and I watch as he grabs his pants from the floor and pulls them on. And just like flipping a light switch, we go from so much to nothing at all. A few minutes ago he was telling me he loved me, and now he’s empty. He won’t even look at me.
“Landon?”
Nothing.
He shrugs his shirt on and then sits on the edge of the bed for a silent minute, his back facing me. He then stands and walks to the door.
“Landon,” I call out, and he stops with his hand on the door handle. “You’re not going to say anything?”
He turns his head, and I see why he’s been keeping his back to me. Tears stain his face, falling like death from his eyes. My own well up, taking away my ability to breathe.