The corners of my lips quirk up when I spot two dots of pink emerge on her cheeks.
“So, your creepy tendencies stayed. You always had a fascination with watching me sleep, which I never understood.”
One moment I ponder who the woman in my bed is, and the next, I hear my Bria rise. To only bury myself in more trouble, I don’t care who she is, acts, or pretends to be. I still recognize her, and this is the birth of the mother of all problems.
“I thought if I saw you while you slept, then I would know if it was me in your dreams,” she answers, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“You were the only thing I ever remembered in my dreams.”
She stirs, but I grab her. “No, stay the night. Stay with me. I’m sure everyone thinks we both left without saying goodbye. We’re safe here. I’m not ready.”
I believe by now, my manhood just bolted through the window cursing.
“One night, Damien.”
“This is all we’re ever going to have, Bria.”
She sighs but nods. “You have to tell me a story, then.”
“Do you remember your answer to my question of what you would do so I would tell you a story?” I counter, and she blinks before answering, tormenting me further with how she remembers everything. “I said I’d give you anything.” Why do I keep insisting on pushing her? There is nothing worse than having to live in the past.
“But you can’t any longer. It would all be a lie, and we agreed not to dirty the memory of what we had. I’ll give you something else instead. My top ten memories of us.”
“Only ten?”
Shock transforms her beautiful face as her mouth drops.
“I could never make a top ten for us. Everything we had was precious.”
“We only have one night. Take my top ten or leave them.”
“Fine. So, what was your number one, then?”
I burst into laughter, and my whole body relaxes. She never was a fan of delayed gratification. And with her intoxicating my very senses and us tangled, all legs and hands and not knowing where one of us begins and the other ends, it is easy to forget this is more a mirage than a reality. We propel years back, young and carefree with love bigger than the length of the universe.
“Bria, patience.”
“Hmm, but what if I fall asleep and don’t hear the first one?”
She crosses her arms, and her lips arch into a pout. I have almost forgotten how sweet she can be.
“Then you won’t hear it.”
She shakes her head. Determination etched in her expression. “No, Damien. In this room, we’ve always respected ten golden rules.” Her index finger points at the old piece of paper pinned to the door.
“Let me hear them, but if you forget even one, I won’t tell you the story. It’s only fair.”
I am reaching the most pathetic state known to mankind with every second I spend with her. Her pointing finger dangles in my face, and her voice challenges, “I memorized every one of them. It was my idea for the rules, after all.”
I catch her hand in mine and entwine our fingers.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She draws her lower lip between her teeth and asks, “From ten to one or from one to ten?”
“Bria, it’s irrelevant.” I try for a chastising tone but fail.
She giggles, and it is buckets of paint splashed on the blank canvas of my heart. Then her body arches with resolve. “I still will say them in order.”
She recites the rules as I brush her silken palm with my thumb.
“Number one, we never go to sleep while something is bothering us.”
Numbness.
“Number two, we always try to spend quality time in each other’s company.”
Frustration.
“Number three, we never keep secrets from each other.”
Defeat.
“Number four, we never begin our day without kissing each other and saying I love you.”
Cracked heart.
“Number five, our highest priority is to be happy together.”
Destitution.
“Number six, we always pay attention to each other’s needs and wishes and always support each other in our goals, dreams, and life choices.”
She twitches, and I realize my fingers crush hers. When will it stop hurting? I back away as I gulp in some air. Then I fold her hand in mine, and trail light kisses on every elegant finger of hers. A thin line of sweat covers her forehead, and her verbal tempo has the speed of a marathon runner. Fuck, we are screwed!
“Number seven, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.”
Her sobbing melds with the loud pounding in my ears.
“Number eight, we keep disgusting Sophia and Filip with our display of affection.”
Wishful thinking.
“Number nine, we never forget what we mean to each other.”
The voice in my head spits at me. Seal your eyes, your ears, your fucking heart, you stupid idiot! Don’t you have enough?
“Number ten, we will never let something endanger our love and life together.”
We collapse on the bed, two bodies forming an entangled mess. A pang of hurt slams my chest, and when I gaze at Bria’s bowed head and lost expression, I’m sure she thinks the same thing—this is what we let happen.
We let something destroy us.
Something we could have prevented.
“What happened, then? Weren’t these rules supposed to protect our love?”
“Yes, but it was me who ruined us. Me, no one and nothing else.”
She sighs. I sigh.
Welcome to the club of regrets.
“This is my tenth dearest memory. You came back during your senior year, and your nostrils flared at how shallow everything was and how they all prayed to the god of attention and hedonism. One day they said I love you to one person, and the next day, they left that person behind for a new experience. You kept going on about how you didn’t want us to fail and kept asking if what we had was strong enough to last a lifetime. You insisted you wanted everything out of life with me at your side.”
“And you gathered me in your arms and put us down on the carpet. I was straddling you. You took my face in your hands and said, ‘You can’t compare what we have with others, so stop thinking we’ll somehow fail because we are it for life. You and me, Bria, long after wrinkles dig in our face, skin wobbles, and legs shake. I will still carry you and be smitten with you.’ And you said, ‘Promise it, Damien.’”
“And I swore you were it for me in this life and the ones to come. But still, you wanted that damn list of rules. Only afterward did you give me your attention.” Yes, she has always been determined, driven, and passionate when she wanted something.
“I am sure this is why you are so damn good at your job . . . correction, the best. You started early with establishing long-term plans, focusing on future developments, and always consolidating the existing business activity.” She stills in my arms as I cease talking and peer into her widened eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s the first time I’ve heard you compliment my work.”
She has to know she’s brilliant. The reports and digits speak for themselves. Why is it so important for her to hear it from me, though? I guess since this whole night is a first, I add, “Never doubt yourself, Bria. You are brilliant. I would have never come so far without you. There’s no one better in the entire company. And I don’t need a top one hundred yearly ranking of the most successful businesswomen. For me, you are number one and not twenty-eight. But I’ll let it slide since it’s the first time they’ve acknowledged you.”
Blood rushes to her cheeks, and she tilts her head to the side, nibbling on her lower lip.
“You read that magazine?”
“I framed it and placed it in my safe. I am proud of you.”
Her voice hushes when she answers, “Thank you. I have to keep up with you.”
“No, it’s the other way around. I thoug
ht I was a machine, but you proved me wrong.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Some would say what we have is no life at all.”
“Work is my life,” she states. It doesn’t bode well with me as I run a hand down my face. “I was so in love with you. I knew we would rock everything life threw at us. Maybe we let our guard down. Either way, we backslid, didn’t we?”
“I failed, not you. Never you.”
“Stop it, Bria. It was us . . . well, yes, it was you, but maybe I did something wrong. I keep asking myself if I could have prevented it somehow. In a team, you succeed and fail together.”
“Damien, no. Don’t you get it? It was me. Blame me. You were perfect; every girl’s fantasy boyfriend.”
“So why? Then, why wasn’t I enough in the end?”
This one question wrecks my self-confidence. Why the hell wasn’t I enough for her? What did I lack when I gave her my all?
Bria massages her temples as she shuts her eyes. “I don’t know. You can ask me hundreds of times, but my answer won’t change, and you have to accept it.”
“How does anyone accept it when the life you have is ripped from you in one night? How do you come to terms with it?”
Message to whoever said confessions are good for healing and moving on—fuck you. I have been doing fine in my denial phase. Can someone tell me when adulthood begins? I feel like a cry-baby. I dart to the bathroom and plunge my face in cold water. Droplets of water run down my chin as I grip the sink and try to shake the beaten image of myself in the mirror. My normally perfect styled hair points in all directions, dark circles surround my eyes, and my shoulders sag. I only need to peer through the door to look at the reason for my disarray. One moment she lays on the bed. The next, she’s leaning on the doorframe clutching at the ends of her dress, pointing to the toilet. I nod to her in the glass reflecting her image. Before I pass her way, she grips my hand and cranes her neck, teeth jabbing in her lower lip. I shut my eyes as the warmth of her touch melts any logical thoughts. She asks, her voice breaking, “Do you want me to leave?”
Say yes, you fool. I try to coerce the words out, but my throat clenches them in. I only shake my head and let her have her privacy.
I crack the door to the minibar in the corner of the room and grab two bottles of water. I gulp half of its contents and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Bria emerges from the bathroom moments later. It’s hilarious how we tiptoe around the other. I hand her a bottle and stare as she takes a few sips. An image of a little bird pops into my mind. She is so damn beautiful. Frustrated with myself, I rush for the safety of the bed. The irony isn’t lost on me.
I cross my arms behind my head as I recline against the pillows. Bria hops to her spot next to me, and then I continue, “Number nine on the list is one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.”
“Please say it’s not what I think it is.” She covers her eyes with her hand and peeks at me from between her fingers, and I chuckle.
“As you recall, I withdrew from you when you turned fourteen. My hormones were all over the place. With the bit of control I still possessed, I decided to ensure my sanity. I stopped sleeping with you by my side.”
Bria slaps my abdomen, and my muscles constrict. “The number of excuses you made. It was hilarious until it stopped being funny and angered me.”
She pierces me with a look and adds, “You’d say, ‘I will be asleep long before you arrive,’ although we both knew you wouldn’t. ‘Bria, I’ve got homework to do, and I don’t want interruptions,’ although it had never stopped us before. And the best was, ‘I have friends coming over, and it’s a boys’ night, no girls allowed.’”
The theatrical gestures of her hands and scrunched nose ignite a small smile in the corner of my mouth.
“I thought I would lose you.”
“Not possible, but then, I was too concerned with the behavior of the lower part of my body and too engrossed in following every idiot’s glance directed at you. I didn´t know how to act around you, torn by nagging questions if you loved me the same or just wanted to go on as always.”
“Really, Damien? Because the only thing that I didn’t do was to spell it to you that I want more.” I chuckle. Was it around that time she put the leash around my neck? No, I’m sure it was the moment she returned my first gaze.
“In the middle of July, you stormed into my room and said you had enough. I recall saying, ‘Give in, you fool, she has you by the balls, anyway!’”
She giggles, and the sound is worth losing every damn battle, including my testosterone.
“The entire ride on the moped to our place, I prayed for that damn thing to break. Sweat rolled down my spine as there we had sworn to tell each other the truth.”
Bria crosses her hands over her chest and says, “I had received the whole freak-out vibe loud and clear, but I was done with your attitude and had to save what we had.”
Her words remind me of her fierceness and stubbornness, and the chains she put around my heart tighten. “As we leaned against the mountain oak, the witness to so many moments and promises we shared, I asked the stupidest question in the history of stupid questions . . . why are we here? You flashed your pearly teeth and said it was so we could enjoy the awkwardness between us in another place for a change. You slumped on the ground with your arms hugging your feet, eyeing the swans on the lake and picking at the grass. With your eyelids drooped and the corners of your mouth downturned, you looked so vulnerable, so weary. I hated the sadness clouding your expression. Then it hit me what an idiot I had been to you. I blurted it all out.
“I told you I was afraid you didn’t want the same things anymore and that your feelings had shifted with time. I raved on about how beautiful you were in every sense, and you should never doubt my feelings for you.”
Bria bites the inside of her cheek, and her head tilts to the side, her gaze drifting off, and I admit, “Nibbling on your lips set my body on fire. After one taste, your mouth became my addiction. When you opened your lips in invitation, I dived into my future. Your smooth skin to my curious fingers felt like satin. To fondle you, to put my fingerprints on every single part of you settled the dawn of a new mania. “
Her hazel eyes find mine, and they shine with pure emotion. “I confessed I had loved you ever since I could remember.”
This woman undoes me, time and time again.
“I’ve met so many people, Bria, but somehow I’ve never found a fool in love like me. My love for you was out of this world, and it shattered me when I tumbled from the highest peak possible. Everything was perfect for the next four years of our lives . . . and then you ruptured every single tissue in me.”
“In me too. You were never alone.” Bria cuddles against me, peeling me bare, torturing me further, setting my body on fire. Still, nothing has felt better than to have her near me and hold her in my arms.
DAMIEN
Her words rattle the walls erected around my heart. Don’t let her faze you! Control yourself! I shake her words off. “This leads me to my number eight memory. We were together as a couple, happy and in love. Everything was right with the world until you turned fifteen, and we woke up to the sex talk ambush with our parents.”
“By my fifteenth birthday, they must have been desperate to do it.”
We both bobble our heads before I answer, “I think they were giving us some time to adapt to being a couple first.”
“Rebecca went first. She said, ‘Bria, Damien, please take a seat. We wish to discuss something with you.’”
“At first, I thought, fuck, is someone going to die or are we bankrupt or what is causing their stiff posture. And then my dad blurted, ‘We want to talk to you about sex,’ and our mothers’ wide eyes were an indicator his outburst was not planned.”
Bria shuts her eyes, remembering. “I can’t even recall who said what. I just wanted to disappear.”
“One of them asked if we were intimate with each other, and I countere
d asking what he meant by intimate. Do you remember how he explained it?”
“Oh, yes, unfortunately. He asked if we were doing things.” Years have passed, and still, heat pokes her cheeks at the recollection.
“And I said, ‘We’ve been doing things since I can remember. Can you be more precise?’” I chuckle at the recollection of how they cornered us.
“I think Andrew couldn’t stand it anymore and asked outright, ‘Have you two had sex with each other?’”
“We yelled no in unison, and they relaxed, but then he asked if we intended to soon.” She smiles and covers her face behind her hands.
“We’d had enough with the crossing of our boundaries. I said, ‘Mom, Dad, with all due respect, that only concerns the two of us.” We were not stupid, and we knew how babies were made.
“They turned beet red, Damien, but thankfully, after we promised to be responsible, we were excused. Afterward, we ran to your room and researched the best protection method, and agreed on the pill. You cradled my face, caressed my cheeks with your thumbs, and emphasized you’d wait as long as necessary. You always put me first.”
Of course I did. I never knew how not to.
“To love you in every way possible became an unshakable urge. For me, it was you, and just about you, until . . .”
We both sigh. We can pretend all we want, but that night will linger between us, and no hate, no love, and no desire will ever erase it. Even now, in our most sacred memories, it has the power to blemish them.
We both glance up at the ceiling, and Bria says in a brittle voice, “It will always be there.”
I slam my eyes shut for mere seconds and answer, through gritted teeth, “Like a fucking tumor that keeps growing, and nothing can destroy it.”
“Very poetic, Damien.”
“It is what it is, the disease that rooted itself in our love.” Bria groans, her hands gripping the blanket.
“Yes, like you’re the only one who has a right to be angry about that night.”
“Well, you were on the other side of the barricade. This is why I’ll always have the right to be angrier than you.”
“Like I would paint myself as the saint in this picture,” Bria groans, her hands gripping the blanket.
Shattered Love : A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 1) Page 12
