Perfection

by Gianni Holmes

  I knew I was pushing the limit. Maybe we’d never come back from this, but I was fucking tired of not doing anything. Fucking tired of waiting for relapse to come.

  Was this what my life would be reduced to? Counting hours, days, months, years of how sober I was?

  “You’ve gotten a lot mouthy, boy.” Callum yanked my pants down to my knees and pulled me over the hood of the car, where he pushed me to sprawl. “I’m not going to put up with this attitude from you.”

  “Go to hell!”

  “You use your safe word if I hurt you,” he hissed.

  Even now, he was still in Daddy mode. Did he think I was joking around with him? I wanted him to hurt me. To make me feel something other than this terror or numbness that had taken over my existence.

  “I’m going to spank you with your own belt until you say you’re sorry.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Don’t let me hurt you, Ashton.”

  I snorted. He would never hurt me. Callum didn’t have the capacity to hurt me. Any other man would’ve either walked away from me or knocked me out for speaking to him the way I just did, but here Callum thought I just needed my ass spanked. He thought he was giving me what I needed.

  I yelped when the belt connected with my ass. He wasn’t even hitting me hard. Dammit! I needed more.

  He slapped me a few more times while I squirmed against the car. This road wasn’t popular because of its poor state, and hardly any cars drove here. Dad had only been taking the short route that night because my call meant he would’ve missed his flight.

  I would’ve stayed with them too if there was a hope of a car coming along soon, but only a few ventured to the shortcut. For one, the streets had potholes drivers tended to avoid.

  I’d just left them for a minute to get help. That was all. I would’ve come back. I swore I intended to return.

  But then everything just went up in smokes. Literally.

  “Hit me harder!” I yelled at Callum. “If you’re going to hit me, fucking do it right like a man!”

  Instead of another sting of the belt against my skin, Callum righted me. What the hell was he doing?

  He pulled my jeans and underwear back up. I couldn’t believe he’d leave me hanging with the punishment he promised me.

  “Ashton, I can’t do this anymore.”

  The second he turned me around, I snapped and punched him hard. My hand went numb from the impact. He grunted as his head snapped back. He staggered a few paces, a hand touching his bleeding nose.

  The look of astonishment in Callum’s eyes gutted me. I was instantly remorseful, ashamed, and so damn terrified of what I’d done. Of what I’d become. Twice in this very spot, I’d let down the people who were depending on me.

  “Daddy, I’m—”

  He shook his head at me, pinching his nose with his fingers. “Just get in the car, Ash.”

  “Callum, I’m—”

  “Just get in the fucking car!”

  For the first time since we’d been together Callum yelled at me.

  “I am a second away from smacking you silly,” he said, chest heaving. “If you don’t want to continue this fucking nightmare that we have going between us, get your ass in the car.”

  I climbed in, not even giving in to tears this time. I’d hit Callum. I was an abusive boyfriend. This was what alcohol was doing to me. No, I wasn’t drinking anymore, but I could feel the strain of not having touched a bottle in weeks. It fucked with my mind and my mood.

  Then being back here was so horrible.

  “I can explain.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything from you right now.”

  I cried softly in my corner while he drove us home. And then I cried even harder when I noticed the craving for a drink hadn’t left. Even after what had just happened.

  When we passed a bar, it took everything in me not to jump out of the car and run inside, never to walk out until my legs were unsteady and the memory of what had happened erased.

  I expected Callum to bring me back to my house and dump my ass there. It was no less than I deserved. Had I broken his nose? His shirt was stained with his blood. Blood I’d drawn from the man I claimed to love.

  He took us to his apartment. My stomach was sick at him not doing the obvious. I wasn’t worth it. He should kick me to the curb, but he’d brought me here. He deserved so much more than I had to offer him.

  Was this what hitting rock bottom felt like? I’d heard that phrase so often since being at AA. So many people talked about hitting rock bottom before they had nowhere else to go but up from there.

  Silently we entered the apartment. I wanted to help him clean his nose, but he didn’t even glance at me. He locked himself up in the bathroom while I curled up on the couch, convinced that was where I belonged.

  About half an hour later, I heard him in the bedroom. I sat up on the couch with my knees up to my chest.

  What now?

  Callum entered the living area with a pillow and a sheet. Great, I was getting the couch. That was better than being kicked out. My mother already didn’t want me. I was only keeping it together because Callum hadn’t dismissed me.

  Yet.

  He was a decent man who wouldn’t kick me out at night. Maybe he would do it tomorrow.

  “Go to bed,” he said.

  “What?”

  He sighed. “I’m tired, my head throbs, and I just want to get some sleep. Go to bed.”

  He was taking the couch? I wanted to argue with him. I deserved the couch, but I’d done enough already. I got up but didn’t move. I watched him spread his big body onto the furniture that was too small for him. His feet dangled over the edge.

  He had to be so uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry, Callum.”

  He sighed again, the sound weighing down on my shoulders. Who gave me the right to walk into this man’s already hard life and make it even worse?

  He did. And he’d never tell me to get out. I knew this with all my heart. He would never tell me that it was too much. Never give up on me, even when I hurt him over and over again.

  “Callum.” His name came out a sob. God, had I turned into a crying machine on legs.

  “I know,” he said. “I know you’re sorry. We’ll talk in the morning. I just need to clear my head.”

  I nodded, though he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were closed. He looked older than I’d ever seen him. Had the gray at his temples always been there? I couldn’t remember seeing them until now.

  I turned away from him, dragging my feet toward the bedroom.

  “I love you, Ash.”

  With a cry, I ran to the bedroom and hid under the sheets, bawling my eyes out for the man on the couch who had to face this again. The man who loved me too much to protect himself from me.

  The man who I had to leave to save us both.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Callum

  The throbbing in the center of my face woke me up. Who would’ve thought that Ashton could pack such a punch? His hand had smashed into my face with no warning at all. I’d had no time to brace for the impact. Now my head hurt, even though I’d taken two pills before going to bed.

  I must’ve fallen asleep with the television on, although it was muted. I fumbled around for the remote to turn it off and stilled when I saw Ashton sitting on the floor across from me. Watching me. Not only was it creepy, but Ashton was also unpredictable these days. I couldn’t help my sense of unease.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” I asked gruffly.

  I shouldn’t still love him. Shouldn’t care at all what happened to him, but that was laughable, considering I still took care of my ex. I loved too much too soon and never knew when it was the time to quit.

  Tonight that time had come. He’d gotten physical, and only seeing the horror on his face, the remorse in his eyes, had stopped me from slapping the shit out of him.

  I wasn’t about to become anyone’s punching bag again. I’d taken enough from Mario. I
didn’t need Ashton putting his hands on me too, and having to walk away without retaliating simply because I was bigger and afraid of doing more damage.

  “I couldn’t sleep without you beside me,” he said.

  “What time is it?” I deliberately ignored what he said. He didn’t deserve to have me in his bed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe three or close to four.”

  I still had another hour or two to crash, then, before having to haul ass to the coffee shop. I sat up on the couch, not able to hold back the groan that slipped past my lips. The center of my face felt swollen, and my breathing was off.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “I just need to go to the bathroom.”

  I pushed up from the couch and walked past him to the bathroom. I emptied my bladder, and only when washing my hands did I look at myself in the mirror. My nose was a big blotchy red mess. I hissed in pain when I prodded gently.

  Yup, it was broken. If the swelling didn’t go down in a day or two, I’d need to go to a doctor and have them look at it. I still found it hard to believe Ashton broke my damn nose.

  I closed my eyes and clutched the edge of the vanity. What the hell had gone wrong tonight? He’d been begging for something with those insults he’d hurled at me. I foolishly thought it was a spanking, so I drove off the main road and to somewhere quiet where I could do just that without an audience stopping by to inquire why I was whipping a grown man’s ass on the side of the streets.

  Maybe I deserved it. I should’ve waited until we were home. My eyes flew open, and I glared at my reflection.

  No, you don’t. You’re fucking done making excuses for them.

  Done.

  After the shitshow that had been my life with Mario and me together, I’d spent too much time in therapy. I knew the warning signs. Mario was always sorry the morning after too when he woke up and he was sober. It was always okay in the morning.

  Until he lost his shit again or thought I was cruel for pouring the liquor down the sink.

  The final straw was when he’d tried playing off the knife he’d cut me with during one of his fits of alcoholic rage. That it was an accident.

  It had taken the help of my therapist for me to acknowledge what was going on. Even so, when she first mentioned I was in a physically and emotionally abusive relationship, I’d laughed. Abusive? Mario was smaller than me. I could take anything he dished out. The bruises weren’t permanent, and he never got that way when he was sober.

  Abusive.

  I’d been in an abusive relationship and had crawled into another. Unlike the first, I had no intention of staying in this one. Ashton would need to work his shit out away from me. I could still provide emotional support the way I did Mario, but I couldn’t do this again.

  If that made me weak as his Daddy, so be it. Maybe I wasn’t fit for the role anymore.

  I was in the bathroom too long. I pushed away from the sink and returned to the living room. Ashton sat in the same position I’d left him in.

  Without a word to him, I settled back onto the couch, pulling the sheet up to my chin. For the first time, I got a good look at him. He was dressed. He even had his shoes on.

  Turned out I wouldn’t have to push him away after all. I should’ve known better. Ashton always ran. That he knew how to do really well.

  “I called Rue,” he said. “He’ll be here shortly to pick me up.”

  “Didn’t have to wake him up. I would’ve dropped you off come morning.”

  He laughed softly. “We both know you wouldn’t have.”

  I would have, wouldn’t I? I’d just had this talk with myself in the bathroom. Sure I’d kick his ass out.

  “You have a weakness for your boys, Callum.”

  There was a lot I wanted to say to that, but I didn’t. We both knew he was right.

  “You love us with everything you’re capable of and ask so little from us in return.”

  When I didn’t respond, his loud sigh rang out in the room.

  “It’s not good for you, you know.”

  I stared at him. “What isn’t?”

  “The way you love us unconditionally. We fuck with your head and your heart, and you still want to keep us.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m done with this. Done with you.”

  “I know you believe that now, but the truth is you’ll never be done with me.”

  “Don’t be a cocky little shit on top of everything. I said I was done.”

  “I hear you.”

  His attitude pissed me off. Or that might be from the ache in my chest that this was over. I should be glad. This had been a tumultuous relationship for being less than two months.

  “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” He sounded tired. “I look at your face and know I did that. I’m so sorry, Callum. It was never supposed to be this way. I was supposed to get better, but I’m not. The AA meetings aren’t helping. Maybe I’m destined to just be waste.”

  “Jesus, Ash, you don’t fucking believe that.” No matter how much I was done with him, I couldn’t bear to hear him denigrate himself that much.

  “I do, and that’s why I have to leave.”

  Hearing him say it shouldn’t sting. I wanted him gone, but tell that to my fucking traitorous heart that beat for him and not me. I’d have to teach it how to beat for only me again, and that hurt.

  “I refuse to hurt you anymore,” he said. “I’ve already ruined many lives, and I won’t do that to you too. I won’t be back until I deserve your love, Callum.”

  “Love isn’t something that’s given based on merit.”

  “Well, it should because you deserve the whole fucking world with all the shit you’ve been through because of Mario and me. You deserve so much more than broken promises from me to do better when we both know it’s a lie.”

  “Why does it have to be a lie?”

  “Because I don’t just have cracks, Callum. I’m not just broken. Some of my pieces are missing, and I don’t know where to find them. I thought you’d be my missing piece, but you’re only one. Where are the others? I need to find them, and I don’t know if I can.”

  His words were killing me. I could hear the pain in his voice. This wasn’t easy for him either. The old temptation reared its head to tell him I forgave him. That it was okay and he just needed to stick around and together we’d make it work, but I’d seen firsthand how well that had worked for Mario.

  “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

  “That it’s okay to go.” Tears were sliding down his cheeks. “Tell me that you understand that it’s killing me every time I hurt you. I’d rather be alone than have you grow to resent me.”

  “I could never resent you.”

  “Please, Callum. You say you love me, but how am I supposed to appreciate that when I don’t even see what’s there to love about me?”

  I closed my eyes to block out his tear-soaked face. Everything inside of me screamed to comfort him.

  His phone rang, and still I kept my eyes closed.

  “Yes?” Pause. “I’ll be out. Just give me a minute.”

  Seconds passed without words spoken between us. Then Ashton’s head rested on my chest, his arms coming around me. I lifted my hand and brushed his hair, even as he soaked my shirt with his tears.

  “I don’t want to go,” he said. “These have been the happiest moments of my life, Callum.”

  And that was just sad. Since I’d known him, he’d struggled, and this was his happiest.

  “I don’t want you to go either.”

  “But you get why I have to, right?”

  “Yes.” I sat up on the couch, and he knelt on the floor before me. I took his face into my hands and studied it, committing it to memory.

  “You are brave, and you are strong,” I affirmed, thumbing his tears. “You deserve to be loved, to be healthy, and to be free from all addiction.”

  More tears came, faster this time. His hand found my face, traced my lips. “And
you are kind and faithful. You deserve to be loved in a healthy way. You deserve to come first for a change. You deserve someone better, and by god, Callum, I want to earn my place in your bed, in your life, and in your heart. I don’t deserve to be there yet.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I’m scared,”

  “Pick up the phone and call me if you need me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. You’ve been such an integral part of my life lately, and I need to learn how to live and be healthy without you. Only then will I be able to love you truly the way you should be loved.”

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  “No, don’t promise me that. We both know this can take a long time.”

  He was right, but I had to do something. I couldn’t send him off believing this was it between us. I still loved him, still cared about him.

  “Even if we don’t talk, send me a voice note, a text message. Anything to let me know you’re okay.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I should go.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  “No, it’s easier this way.”

  Probably. Slowly, he pulled out of my reach, and I made myself stay watching the love of my life walk away from me. Love slipping from my grasp a second time while I was helpless to do anything about it.

  When he was almost out of sight, he turned toward me with a smile. “Callum?”

  “Yes, Pretty Eyes?”

  “I’ll always come. A month, a year, I’ll always come back to you. I don’t expect you to remain single. I don’t. But I’ll be back, and I will earn the right to call you Daddy again.”

  My sweet precious boy. Did he really think I had the capacity to love anyone else after this? Especially after such a promise?

  “One more time,” he said. “Tell me to go.”

  He stood waiting. And I knew he wouldn’t leave unless I told him to. I could keep him here if I didn’t say the words.

  I couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t do it to us. We deserved to give ourselves a chance to both be better alone before we could be better together.