“You have a lot inside you that you’ve never dealt with. Emotions and memories you’re holding on to. Either too painful or didn’t think it bothered you, but it did. You feel robbed by him, like it was your birthday and someone else snuck up and blew out your candles. You’ll get your chance for that future. I have no doubt about it.” He gave me a hopeful smile that matched the crinkle of his eyelids.
“Thanks.”
I still felt like weight was sitting on my shoulders, but it seemed to have lessened slightly. Maybe just talking about it, sharing the burden, was enough to lighten the load.
“Now, about that kiss.”
Oh dear, here comes an awkward conversation.
“Uh …”
His smile was transformed into a smirk before he shook his head. “Neither of us is in a position to engage in anything right now. It wasn’t a mistake by far, but I think it’s best we keep it as what we had before. Besties for the duration of the program. You don’t need anything else creating complications in your life, and I’m the same.” He reached up to push some stray, wet strands back off my forehead. His gaze was tender, and a flutter tickled my tummy from the softness he was giving me.
“Right. You’re right. I don’t need anything else adding to my crazy life.” I pushed myself back, giving us space. Much-needed space to clear my head from everything that was trying to drag me under, back down the rabbit hole of my mind.
“Wanna swim around some more, or you wanna go get dry?” he mused.
Cute and teasing Logan was alive and well.
As was hot Logan, who was wet from head to toe. All those muscles of his were perfectly displayed beneath the soaked shirt. His tattoo of the Buddha head on his left upper arm was displayed and intricate, the water gleaming off the blacks and grays.
The rain dribbled down my cheeks as I took in his words. I remembered the fact that we were indeed still in the rain. But I didn’t feel scared.
I didn’t feel liberated from my fear, like I would be doing this all the time, but I wasn’t scared currently.
“I’m not afraid of the storm right now,” I said in awe as I lifted my hand up to let the rain fall on it before my very eyes.
“So proud of you.”
“I’m proud of myself,” I declared and felt good about saying it out loud.
Knowing he was proud of me was one thing, but being proud of myself was the compliment I actually needed.
“I do wanna get out though. I have a business to run and need to get dry.”
I had a lot of things to do today, including the pep talk to the new recruits. People. Crap. I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed what just occurred here. Then, I felt my shoulders release the sudden tension in them as I saw no one. The rain had kept away any spectators.
“Let’s get you dry then.” Logan swam to the edge, as did I.
I tried not to openly stare as he pulled himself out of the water. No part of his body was left to the imagination underneath his cotton shirt and jeans.
Just friends. Just life coach and client. We’re just friends. Complications, remember? Over and over, I thought that as I rose out of the water, trying not to feel insecure that my clothes were clinging to my body as well.
I ignored the desire to glance at him as we walked toward the door to get back in the building where Jay was standing with two towels.
Oh God, he had probably seen everything. I could practically see my future schedule written by him with, Have sex with Logan every night permanently. Great.
“You are a lifesaver,” I told Jay while avoiding eye contact.
I was sure he was giving me a knowing look. I got it; he was for Logan and me, and we’d kissed, but come on, nothing else would happen.
Logan thanked Jay as well, and we dried off as best we could.
Logan turned toward me, and there were so many emotions swirling inside me while I gazed at him.
“I think, tonight, you should consider writing your angry letter. Wait for the other part, but I think you need to purge. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
We’d see about that. He didn’t tell me to do it but to consider it. So, I would but no guarantees.
“Go get dry, Mia. Thanks again, Jay.” He gave Jay a brotherly nod and then smiled at me once more before leaving.
I watched him go, my gaze completely transfixed on his backside walking away in those jeans.
“Not a word.” I could practically feel Jay’s happy glare on me as I watched Logan.
After another thirty seconds, we walked to the elevators and then parted ways, so I could change into something dry and appropriate to pep-talk the newbies.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mia
Logan: If you do decide to write your angry letter, don’t hold back. Get it all out.
Mia: Okay. Thanks.
I’d been staring at the laptop for over an hour since Logan messaged me, trying to decide if I was ready for this. Who knew if it was really going to help? It could honestly just spiral me down into the darkness of my mind again, forcing me to feel everything. I hadn’t felt anything before though, so maybe I wouldn’t feel anything this time either.
Except even I knew that thought was a lie.
“Okay, Mia. Just get it out. Visualize.”
I closed my eyes and thought of Wallace. Dark hair, brown eyes, that Roman nose, and high cheekbones. He was wearing his normal Armani suit—black, of course. So many emotions rose from the depths that I didn’t really have a choice but to start typing them out. Directing my hate and anger and pain at him. Memories and thoughts were flashing through my mind all at once.
Dear Wallace,
I don’t know what kind of letter/story this will be. A painful and hurtful one?
I wish I could say it’s issues with my ex-mother-in-law or Hollis, but truthfully, it was a lot closer than them. I can forgive so many people who had wronged me. I can move on from their hurt. But your hurt was too deep.
I’ve been hurting so much lately on the inside. For years now. I have my good days and my bad. Joy and sadness. But, no matter how many times I try to bounce back and just move on, I haven’t been able to truly let go.
But, God, I want to. I want to be better to myself, to my family. To everything.
Wallace, you were all that consumed me. In many good ways, but the bad started to take over, and I was feeling lost.
We were together for six years. Six. That’s a long time. We went through so many things together. We’d started young, and we grew. But I’m not sure we grew together. Our wants, our desires, our ways of thinking changed.
Then, one day, you left your e-mail open. It wasn’t even me snooping. We’d been together for almost two years. We’d moved in together, and shortly after, we had gotten engaged.
You’d told Miranda, one of your clients, that she was hot as hell and something else that escapes me now. When I asked you about the e-mail, you denied saying it and then went to delete it. A guilty person’s actions in my opinion.
Then, you messaged her. You said you were sick and that she should come be your little nurse. To which she replied, Don’t you have a girlfriend? And you replied, It’s not like we’re married or anything.
I can’t begin to tell you how much that hurt me. I wanted marriage. I wanted to take on the world with you, but you were hesitant.
Right then, I decided I wasn’t going to say anything. That, if you cheated, it wouldn’t be because of me. It would be you. I’d done everything I could.
I thought I’d moved on. But, really, all I had done was put it in a closet in my mind. Ignoring it.
But I can’t anymore.
I don’t think I ever stopped thinking that you could do that to me. Mentally, emotionally, or physically have an affair. You joked about it all the time—that I would never know. And I can’t express how much of a fear that was to me.
Turned out, that fear was accurate. I’ve never been able to get the images of
you and Hollis out of my head. Then, seeing you and her with a baby on the way hit me so hard. That was supposed to be us. The happy couple excited about our bundle of joy. You ripped that from me when you shoved your pathetic dick inside another woman. God, I bet there were others I don’t even know about, or maybe I just ignored the signs, like the e-mails with Miranda.
Hope you like Hollis’s pregnant body more than you did mine. I’d have hated to be with you, pregnant and insecure, with you muttering comments about how fat my ankles were. You were disgusted by my body. Weren’t attracted to me for over a year. I was either too heavy or skinny. My boobs weren’t big enough for you. My hips were wide, and when I gained that weight, you would make such a face of disgust when I got naked in front of you. Then, I stopped caring. Did what I wanted. But these problems, I never moved on from them. I tried so hard to. Truly. I wanted to push everything away, so we could keep going, but I never dealt with it.
It sucked. I felt used and unwanted.
Then, your anger got worse. You threatened to knock me the fuck out. You overreacted over silly things, like tea bags and other stupid things. You threatened to leave me in the ocean to deal with my fear. You were never there for me like a husband was supposed to be.
I paused, wiping the tears that began to brim my eyelids. The memories were flooding my mind now, and so was the hurt. I remembered each of these times that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding on to so tightly. There was so much to say, to feel. I was afraid of what more was going to come out of me. But I put my unsure fingers back on the keys and continued on.
And you still never understood me—my needs, my desires, who I was as a person.
I asked you to hug me every day. I would have even settled for every other day of your own free will, and you couldn’t do that. What does that say about you? About me that I accepted that?
I told you the worst place for me was to be in my head, but you left me there. Continuously. Not pushing to talk or trying to understand. I know you suck with emotions and all, but your happy, smiley wife was depressed near the end, and you played on your phone, ignoring the situation.
That is another thing. You were addicted to your phone. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’m on mine, too, a lot since I run a large business, but I put it down when we did things together. When we watched movies. You couldn’t even go one whole movie without being on that game. Talking to all of those people. I am willing to bet you talked to them more than you talked to me. That hurt.
I wanted to talk with you. I talked so much! But you didn’t care to talk to me.
Hell, you ignored me most of the time. It was like you didn’t care if I was there. I was just a ghost that helped take care of the household. I needed to be loved, cherished, and wanted.
I had thoughts some nights. Not good ones.
I would never kill myself, but I have wondered, if I did something like that, how long would it take you to notice? Because you didn’t notice me. You didn’t see me anymore. Who I was, the good in me.
We were not okay. We were unhealthy.
Ignoring each other unless you wanted something sexual.
You never wanted to experience life with me, you hated my art, you didn’t like to be around my family. My family was so important to me, and you slowly isolated me from them after we got married. You stripped me of everything that I was, and I allowed it. I let you make me into this nothing. This person who doesn’t even recognize herself in the mirror. This woman who has been on autopilot, just barely surviving life.
But no more.
I was so angry and wanted to send this letter to the bastard even though I wasn’t supposed to. But, instead of doing that, I felt this overwhelming need inside me to do the opposite. Logan had said I wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t explain the desire to cut this final cord between Wallace and me. There was nothing I wanted more than to be rid of him and this pain. I was ready. I wanted this so much. No … not wanted. Needed. I needed to end this once and for all. Seeing Wallace to get my closure wouldn’t be enough. I had to let him go from my mind. From my soul.
I closed my eyes once more, seeing him, that impatient tap of his foot as he waited for me to say what I had to say. But, this time, instead of feeling small, I smiled at him.
So much pain, so many tears.
Once it was truly over, I just moved on. I’d focus on business, and I’d try to forget about the whole thing. But some wounds were deep, and no matter how much you covered them up, they still hurt.
I’d gone years without dealing with the hurt, and now, it’d become apparent that I couldn’t run anymore. I had to face the demon and slay it in ways that would make Buffy proud.
Wallace, I don’t regret our time. I can’t regret anything in my life because it’s made me into the woman I am today. But I need to let the villain of you go. I need to move past this hate and fear I have for you.
I felt my eyes start to sting with the threat of tears.
Tears were okay. Tears were good. Like the pain inside me was being released and rolling down my cheeks.
I forgive you, Wallace. And I forgive myself.
I’m going to walk away from this moment and feel a lightness in my chest. I will no longer let you take up space inside me where you don’t belong anymore. I need to find myself and love myself again. I can’t do that with hatred in my heart for you. So, I’m letting you go.
Good-bye, Wallace, and I hope you find peace.
I meant it, and now, I had faith in myself that I would be free. The scars would remain; there was nothing I could do about that. But I’d survived the pain, and now, I wore those scars proudly.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Logan
I asked Mia to meet me at the Cordiale, the Italian restaurant in Mia’s hotel. I’d heard the lunch menu was great, and I needed to see her. I’d spent more time than I’d like to admit thinking about her last night. Why had I kissed her? Had she written her angry letter? Had she spent the night crying or feeling sad at all?
Her ex had done a number on her, and I knew she had been holding on to so much, more than she realized. One day, I’d help her get over it, we’d work on it together.
“Morning, Ms. Moretti.”
My head snapped in the direction of the host standing by the front door of the restaurant.
Holy fucking shit. My jaw slackened, and I felt my heart stutter.
Her caramel hair had been cut and shaped with added highlights of honey, bouncing with every step in my direction. Her heels looked flawless with her tan legs and pencil skirt and off-shoulder long-sleeved shirt. She looked like a new woman, a complete one-eighty from yesterday’s version of Mia. She was smiling and practically glowing.
“You look …” I didn’t know which synonym of beautiful to use because simply beautiful just wasn’t close to how she looked right now.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and I had to put my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to rub my thumb against that lip.
“I got a haircut this morning and finally used one of the personal shoppers we have on staff. Nothing like a new pair of panties to get your morning kicking off right.”
She started following the host with the menus to our table, and all I could think of was what her new panties looked like. From the lack of lines in her tight skirt, I’d say she was wearing a sexy thong.
Lord help me.
These next five weeks were going to be hell on my libido if she was going to be flaunting her perfect ass in front of me every day.
“Thank you, Tom,” she said to the host as he held out the chair for her and then helped her scoot in across from me on the square table near the window with a perfect view of the beach.
“Thank you,” I said it to him as well for seating us despite it being his job. It was nice to hear gratitude, no matter what, and I liked to make people smile as often as I could. “Okay, spill. What happened?” I had an inkling as to what had happened, but I still didn’t feel like
she was ready for it. Maybe I would be proven wrong.
“Let’s order, and then I’ll divulge.” She looked over the menu and told me that it changed frequently, so they could attract people who weren’t staying in the hotel as well as the customers that were. Always new dishes to keep people satisfied instead of growing stale on taste.
She ordered the mushroom risotto, and I kept it simple with spaghetti and meatballs.
A bread basket was brought out in front of us with a plate of oil and herbs to dip in if we so chose.
I took a bite of the warm bread and expectantly looked at her.
She huffed and drank some of her water before letting me in on the events that had passed since we parted ways yesterday.
“I ended up writing my angry letter to Wallace. It was hard, and I cried. I didn’t realize how much I’d been ignoring when it came to him. But then I got to a part of the letter, and I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but I saw this tether in my head. It was attached to him. All I needed to do was snip it, and I’d be free of him. So, I forgave him. And myself if I’m being honest. For letting myself get so down and dealing with everything I had. Once the pain was out and I faced it, I just knew what I had to do. I had to let him go for myself and my future.”
She grabbed a piece of bread and ate it while I sat there in awe.
“I’ve got to tell you, I feel like I shed a dead part of myself. Like I can be anyone and do anything. I don’t even know who I am or what I want, but I feel like, for the first time in so long, that I’m free to figure it out. Nothing holding me back.”
She ate her bread and waited for me to say something. Twice today, she had me at a loss for words.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Mia. You have no idea.”
She blushed and looked out toward the beach.
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