The Man I Can't Have

by Williams, Shanora

  I place the rings back down, and they clink as they hit the wood. As I leave the room, I rub my bare ring finger, a reminder that these are my last few hours with Marcel.

  I walk back out of the room and go to the already open patio door. I’m swept up by a salty breeze as I walk out, the same breeze that’s toying with Marcel’s hair. He looks up at me, and whatever was bothering him before is quickly replaced with a smile.

  “Hey.” He greets me with a faint smile.

  “Hey.”

  He pats a spot on his lap, and I walk over with a grin, curling up sideways on his lap. “Did I wake you?” he asks on the shell of my ear.

  “No. I was worried for a second. I thought you’d left.”

  “Why would I leave?” He sounds truly curious, like that thought never even crossed his mind.

  “Your side of the bed was cold, and I didn’t see your bag.”

  “I was pickin’ up some of my stuff I laid around. That’s all.” He kisses the side of my face.

  “What are you out here thinking about?”

  “You,” he replies honestly.

  I look up and study his shimmering blue eyes. The light from the sunrise reveals the darker flecks inside them. “What about me?”

  “Hatin’ that this will be our last mornin’ together.”

  I drop my head, avoiding his eyes.

  He grabs my legs, spreads them apart with ease, and positions me so that I’m straddling his lap. He then slides to the edge of the chair.

  Running his palms up my thighs, he says, “I’m gonna ask you again…would you leave him for me?”

  I shake my head. Not this again. “I’m not answering that.”

  “Fine. Stand up for me,” he commands.

  I stand and he reaches down to lower his shorts. Right after, he’s going under my gown, sliding my panties down to my ankles. I step out of them willingly, and he grips my hips, bringing me back on top of his lap. I’m positioned right above his cock, and he slides me down, our mouths parting wider with every inch.

  “It’s our last day,” he growls on my lips. “Since you won’t answer it, ride me like you mean it.”

  And I do. I ride him in front of the sunrise, not giving a damn if anyone can see. He cups my ass, assisting me as I roll my hips forward and backward. His teeth nip at the bend of my neck as I breathe raggedly, and then he licks that same spot.

  “Would you leave him for me?” he asks again, this time with a voice that’s drenched with pleasure.

  I sigh, holding him around the back of his neck, my fingers getting tangled in his bed hair. I kiss him to shut him up, and he kisses me back, but only briefly. In a flash, he’s standing up, carrying me into the villa. My back lands on the couch, and he’s on top of me, between my legs like he knows that’s where he belongs, but he doesn’t press fully inside me. He only gives me the tip, and I ache for more.

  He yanks on the top of my gown, revealing my breasts. Sucking one of my tan nipples into his mouth, he groans around it, and I feel his cock twitch with the action.

  He’s close.

  I’m close.

  Fuck.

  He snatches his mouth away from my nipple. “I won’t make you come if you don’t tell me the truth.”

  “Please,” I beg. “I need it.”

  “Then tell me the truth. I wanna hear you say it.”

  He looks me over, eyes filled with hunger, lust, and something else that I can’t quite figure out. In only a second, he’s fully inside me again, and my back arches as I gasp, but he lifts me back up.

  “Tell me,” he commands. “Would you leave him for me? I have to know.”

  He buries himself completely, balls deep. “Marcel—I’m close. Please.” I’m pleading with him.

  “Would you leave him for me?”

  “Ugh—yes! Yes, I would leave him for you!” We lock eyes, both of us breathing raggedly. “But I can’t.”

  “Fuck that,” he grumbles, and he hammers his hips, giving me exactly what I wanted. “You know you belong to me. Fuck him.”

  He’s angry-fucking me but I don’t make him stop. It feels too good, and deep down maybe I deserve this angry-fuck. I led him on, made him want more. I caved this week, and had I not, maybe he would be better off. He would have gotten over me eventually, but no. I had to come here and make him fall even harder for me.

  He fucks me until I come, screaming his name and dragging my nails over his forearms, and then he leans forward, stealing kisses from me, parting my lips with his tongue and sucking mine until he comes too.

  “Damn, Gabby,” he groans as he comes with his mouth on my neck. “It’s too soon. You can’t go. Stay with me.”

  His words…oh, God. They hurt me. They cut me deep. I hear the brokenness in his voice, how much he wants this to continue.

  Tears creep to the corners of my eyes. He’s still on top of me, trapping me beneath his weight. I try and push him off, and when he finally moves, I slide from beneath him to stand.

  Angry tears have come out of nowhere, running down my cheeks. I’m fuming.

  I hate the situation we’re in.

  I hate my temper.

  I hate that he fell for me!

  “You knew I would have to go back, Marcel!” I scream at him. “You knew this couldn’t go on forever! You can’t say shit like that to me and expect everything to be okay in the end!”

  “Well it’s fuckin’ true, Gabby!” he barks back, pushing to a stand too. “I fuckin’ want you! I want you more than the air I’m fuckin’ breathin’ right now! Sorry if that shit offends you, but I’m a fuckin’ man, and I’m not about to lie to you or myself about how I feel! Life is too short for that shit!”

  I shake my head, turning away from him. “This was a mistake.” I rush to the bedroom and grab my bag, picking up loose pieces of my clothes off the floor and stuffing them inside it.

  He’s trailing right behind me. “A mistake?” he asks, like he can’t believe I’ve just said that.

  “Yes, it was a mistake! All of this! I never should have come here!”

  “But you did, Gabby, and we fucked the whole time, and you loved it! You loved when I made you laugh! You loved when I put my hands all over you! You loved every fuckin’ moment of it, so don’t pretend this was a mistake!”

  I’m blinded by tears, but I don’t stop packing. I go to the bathroom to get my toothbrush and other toiletries, but after I stuff them in the bag, Marcel is right beside me, grabbing my arms before I can go anywhere else.

  “Let me go!”

  “No. Not until you calm the hell down!”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” I’m so frustrated, and he sees it, but he doesn’t let me go. I try beating on his chest, but they’re weak attempts. He doesn’t flinch, just holds me tighter. “We can’t be together! I’m married! You knew that when you met me!”

  He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, letting me sound stupid, which pisses me off even more.

  “Why did you have to come around, huh? My life was perfectly fine before you showed up!”

  “You hired me, Gabby!”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d come in like this! I was happily married, living a great life!”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You were miserable and lonely as hell! You married him for comfort and convenience, but there’s no fuckin’ passion with him! None! But for us? That shit seeps out of our pores and drips through the goddamn walls, Gabby. You burn for me, so much more than you ever would for that motherfucker, and you know it. You fucking know it.” He reels me in to his chest, swallowing me with his arms. “Why stay? Why waste your time with him when that’s not what you want?”

  “I can’t leave!”

  He grips my shoulders and pushes me back to look me in the face. “Why the hell not? What does he have on you?”

  “He doesn’t have anything on me!”

  “You act like you’re afraid of him.”

  “I’m not afraid of him.” I�
��m panicking all over again. I breathe rapidly, and when his grip grows limp, I snatch away and take out a dress from my bag. I pull off the nightgown and slide into the dress.

  “What does he have on you, Gabby?” His voice is demanding. He’s no longer trying to convince me to stay. He knows I’m hiding something now, but I’m not about to tell him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He grabs me again. I try and yank away, but he’s twice my size and too damn strong. “You’re wastin’ your time with him.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Gabby—”

  “Let me go, Marcel! I need to get back home!”

  He blinks down at me. “If you call that a home, you really are delusional. You have more of a home in this villa than you do there.”

  I ignore him, picking up my rings and walking out of the bedroom with my bag. As I slide into my sandals hurriedly, stuffing the rings into the pocket of my dress, I say, “It was fun, but this is reality, so just deal with it.” I hike my bag on top of my shoulder then pick up my tote and go to the door.

  He chases after me with a hopeless frown. “You told me you’d leave him for me. When?”

  I look into his misty eyes long and hard. I see the anguish. I’m hurting him. Not only that, but he’s afraid to be alone again. After what I know about him and his past, I can’t blame him for that. But I can’t stay. I just…I can’t.

  I wish I could be selfish and give him everything, but this was wrong from the start. From the moment I hired him, and our eyes connected, I knew he would be trouble, but I let him stick around anyway.

  “If my circumstances were different, and leaving was simple, I would leave him for you, Marcel, but unfortunately, they’re not.” Another tear skids down my cheek as I step toward him. I reach up to cup a hand around the back of his neck, bringing his head down to kiss his cheek. Then I kiss his lips, and he kisses me back, but this isn’t like the other kisses that filled me with hope and pleasure.

  This one fills me with nothing but dread, because I know that once our lips part and I walk out that door, I won’t see him again. I can’t. Kyle is…he would…ugh.

  Our lips part, and I step back, pressing my lips before turning for the door. I grab the handle and open it, but before I go, I say, “You told me last night that you were falling for me.” He stares at me, confused. Broken. All because of me. “Well, I’ve fallen for you too, Marcel. I really, really like you.” I huff and shrug, blinded by tears now. “I wish things were different for us. I really do.”

  “Gabby,” he calls again, reaching for my hand. I look down at his tan hand in mine. I love how masculine they are. They’re not too rough, not too soft. I squeeze his hand. My eyes shift up to his again, and he sighs, defeated.

  He knows this has to happen, whether we want it to or not. I can’t stay here forever, and we’ve only just met. Yes, it seems like we’ve known each other for a lifetime, but that’s not the reality of this situation. I’ve known Kyle for years, and Marcel for only three months. I’m glad he’s not fighting me on it anymore.

  “Take care of Callie,” he murmurs.

  “I will.” I squeeze his hand again. He squeezes it back.

  We linger.

  Breathe.

  More tears threaten to escape me. He steps forward to cradle the back of my head, reeling me back in for another kiss.

  Our final, final kiss.

  This one brings way too many emotions out of me. There isn’t just the sadness and hopelessness I felt before, but a fleeting spark of joy and relief.

  He’s a dream come true, Marcel. He’s not perfect, but after spending these days with him, I realize how romantic he can be without even trying. How selfless he is, despite his rough background. He’s exactly the kind of man who would have stolen my heart, and had I not met Kyle, I would have let him take it.

  But had I not met Kyle, I never would have moved to Hilton Head. Never would have been in that house with a yard that Marcel landscaped. I never would have even met Marcel. I don’t know if he’s a life lesson, a stumbling block, or something much more…but I know we’re not meant to last.

  So, I finally pull away. Completely away.

  “Take care of yourself, Marcel,” I murmur, stepping back.

  He doesn’t say anything. With lips pink and swollen and eyes as wet and blue as the ocean behind him, he watches me go.

  I would love for him to walk me to my car, but that will only make this situation harder. Right now, we must part ways…even if the act alone crushes both of us to pieces. But damn, walking away is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Marcel

  I saw my sister die right in front of my eyes, and that nearly destroyed me.

  When the cops knocked on the door of my momma’s house and told me my mother had died, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  When my mother told me my father was no longer with us, I didn’t know how to take it, nor did I know how to handle seeing his frail body and bald head on his sick bed.

  With Gabby going, there is that same grief, almost similar to when I lost my mother, sister, and even my father. I can’t explain it, but it lingers, and I’m left wondering why I’m the one who has to deal with this kind of pain.

  I constantly ask myself, “whose sins am I paying for?” Yes, I’ve done a lot of fucked up things, but deep down I know I’m a good man. I work hard. I’m respectful. I’m dedicated…

  But you fell for a married woman.

  Perhaps that’s why I’m being punished.

  Gabby is on the elevator now, and as she boards. I hope she’ll look up to find me still watching by the door of the villa we shared.

  She peers up beneath her damp eyelashes, but she doesn’t smile. She just swipes the tears away and presses a button on the inside, and the doors close instantly.

  She’s gone, and my heartbeat shifts to a slower rhythm. I go back into the room, slamming the door behind me. I’m standing near the kitchen, staring at the porcelain figurines on the counter above the sink, my chest heaving as I breathe raggedly. The longer I stare at them, the angrier I get.

  “Goddamn it!” I shout as I knock them down, sending pieces cascading across the floor. I grab one of the chairs at the dining table and shove it forward, nearly cracking the spine of it as it hits the wooden table.

  They’ll charge me for the damage. I don’t give a fuck. I head for the bedroom and sit on the edge of the mattress, dropping my face in my palms, fighting whatever the fuck this is I feel for her.

  I have no right to want her to stay. She’s married, and she made a vow to another man, but damn how I wish that man was me.

  As I pack, I can’t get her out of my head.

  Her smile.

  Her giggle that’s so damn cute it’s contagious.

  Her body and how perfectly she wraps around me.

  Check-out is in an hour, but I decide to head out earlier. As I do one final sweep, and make sure to pick up the pieces of that damn figurine, I spot something shiny on the nightstand in the room. It’s her wedding band.

  As I hold it between my fingers, I start to think she left it on purpose, as a means for me to come see her again, but she wouldn’t do that. She most likely didn’t grab both when she went for them, as upset as she was.

  I pick it up and tuck it into my pocket, then look around the room again. Nothing’s left here. Without her, this place isn’t the same.

  When I’m inside my truck, driving home, the truth really sets in for me.

  I swore I wouldn’t let anything get to me—not her touch, her need, or her body. But it did. All of it did, and I’ll never be able to let it go. I didn’t just fall for Gabrielle Moore this weekend.

  I fell in love with her, and that truth cracks me open, leaving me vulnerable and raw with nothing but need.

  For the first time in my life, I’ve fallen in love—in love with a woman that I most likely wouldn’t deserve
, even if she weren’t already taken.

  How can any man survive knowing that sad truth?

  That he fell in love with a woman he can’t even have?

  FORTY-FIVE

  Gabby

  My music is blasting on the drive home.

  I’m doing whatever it takes not to think about Marcel, but even as Kings of Leon spill through my car speakers, there’s no escaping the thought of him. He’s been inside me, wrapped all around me. I can still smell his soap. It’s like his hands have left invisible prints on my body, as well as his cock. Not even time will help me escape the reminder of him.

  Months ago, I remember thinking something was missing in my life. Well, I no longer think it’s something. It was someone. It was him all along.

  “God,” I groan, as a single tear slides down my cheek. I swipe it away as I pull into Venice Heights and park in front of Meredith’s house first so I can pick Callie up.

  On the way up, I dig into my pocket and notice that I only grabbed my engagement ring and not my wedding band. “Damn it!” I hiss before getting to Meredith’s door. The last thing I want to see is the look on Marcel’s face after he watched me walk away. I won’t be able to bear that guilt, but I’ll need my ring eventually, before Kyle notices that it’s gone.

  “Hey!” Meredith squeals when she sees me. Callie is right on her heels, and she starts yapping, rushing to my feet.

  “Hey!” I chime, picking Callie up. “Was she good?”

  “Oh, she was fine! You know I love having her!”

  “Good!”

  “Let me go grab her stuff for you.” It takes no time for Meredith to return with Callie’s things.

  “Did you enjoy your getaway?” she asks, walking by my side to get to the car.

  I nod and force a smile, putting Callie on the passenger seat and then closing the door. “I did. Thanks for asking.” I help her put the stuff in my trunk and then close it.

  “That’s great. It’s always good to have that me-time. You know, I was going to see if Kyle wanted Callie at the house with him since he was back, but then I remembered you saying he wasn’t a fan of having her around, so I changed my mind.” She laughs but my heart drops to my stomach.