Come Together

Home > Other > Come Together > Page 32
Come Together Page 32

by Jessica Hawkins


  “I’m sorry,” I said into my knees.

  “What is it?” he asked softly.

  I looked up finally. It was with wonder that I stared at him in his soaking wet boxer briefs, and at the same moment, sadness crossed his face.

  “I should never have let things get this far. I’m so sorry,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath.

  He rose and turned off the water before stepping out of the shower. I stood gingerly, and he wrapped me in a towel, securing my arms to my body. He guided me onto the edge of the bathtub, squatted on his heels and looked up at me. “Let what get so far?”

  “I thought I would change my mind. I thought being with you would change everything, but . . . it hasn’t. I still feel the same.”

  “I don’t understand, Olivia,” he said, touching my jaw. His thumb rubbed over my cheek tenderly.

  I took a deep breath, thankful that there were no tears left in me. Then I said it. “I don’t want children.”

  I watched his hand withdraw immediately, and then I blinked to his expressionless face. I tried desperately to read his reaction, but he gave nothing away. When he didn’t respond, I continued. “I’ve seen you with Alex. I know you’ll be an incredible father. I know that’s what you want. I can see it. I’m sorry for waiting this long to tell you, but . . .” I paused when my voice wavered. “I honestly thought we had more time.”

  I was wrong. I was not cried out. Tears began to spill again, sliding down my cheeks and dropping into my lap.

  He looked away and focused on the tiled wall. I was grateful, because it gave me a moment to trace the lines of his jaw with my eyes, to memorize the curve of his magnificent lips and the chestnut, golden color of his eyes. He really was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And he’d almost been mine.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to the wall. “I don’t know what to say.”

  I nodded, stood from the perch and walked to the bed. I slid between the sheets and covered my face with my hands.

  ~

  “Olivia.”

  I opened my eyes to a dark room. My towel was wrapped under my armpits, and my pillow was damp. I sat up slowly, trying to orient myself.

  There was a movement next to the bed, and David’s figure sharpened in the dark. He leaned forward, and the bedside lamp turned on.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled.

  “Three in the morning.”

  “Have you slept?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

  “No. I’ve been downstairs thinking.” I noticed a towel in his hands as he climbed in bed behind me. He straddled me and ran the towel through my hair, scrubbing lightly. “What did I tell you about going to bed with wet hair?” he admonished quietly.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said with a quivering chin.

  He continued to pat my hair tenderly and when it was as dry as possible, he threw the towel and my pillow on the floor. He instructed me to turn and face him and when I did, my shoulders slumped forward. “Do you want children?” I asked.

  “I always imagined I would have them. I haven’t thought much about it lately. I assumed it was what you wanted and so . . . I thought it was what I wanted too.”

  I gave him a shallow nod. “I understand. I should have told you.”

  “I should’ve asked.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered, looking down. “It’s no one’s fault.” After a brief pause, I said, “I think it’s best if I give you space right now.”

  He was quiet as he sat cross-legged before me in his plaid pajama pants. “What do you mean?”

  “You need to take time away from me to process this.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need.”

  I looked up. “But you should.”

  “I don’t need time. I don’t want to lose you, so we’ll find an answer.”

  “There’s no answer, David. I could never take fatherhood from you.”

  “I can make my own decisions.”

  “I know you can.”

  He shook his head and looked away. “Every time we get close, you run. Now you’re trying to get me to run. I can’t help but feel like you’re sabotaging this. It sounds like you want me to leave you.”

  “Of course I don’t want that,” I said immediately, “but the only thing worse than you leaving would be you resenting me years down the line because I took this away from you.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I have some questions.”

  “Okay.” I dipped my head into a nod.

  “Why don’t you want children?”

  “I don’t have the desire. I can’t see it in my future, and if I can’t see it with you, I know I never will.”

  “Can you see me in your future?”

  “Yes,” I said emphatically. “You’re all I see.”

  “Does this have something to do with your mom? Are you afraid?”

  I sighed. “Bill said the same thing.”

  “Because you aren’t her. You would make a phenomenal mom. You are loving. You have so much to give when you let yourself.”

  I blinked at him. Did I? Was I this warm and loving creature David thought I was, or was I the cold and heartless monster Bill had accused me of being? Could I be warm, loving and selfless and still not want children? With soft determination, I said, “You’re right. I’m not her. I would never be the type of parent she was.”

  “So it’s not that you’re afraid of turning out like her?”

  I shook my head.

  “Explain something to me,” he said. “Why was it so hard to let yourself go with me?”

  “I was afraid once I let myself love you, I would lose you,” I said right away. “And I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t the same thing? You’re not afraid of loving a baby too much?”

  “It does scare me. That I would be responsible for this being, and there would be no second chances, no room for mistakes.”

  “All parents make mistakes. Jessa does all the time.”

  I smiled. “I know. But it’s more than that. My instinct says it’s not the path for me, and I know what you say about instincts . . . .”

  He nodded.

  “But, David, if the alternative is losing you . . .” I searched his eyes, the eyes that had the ability to melt away all my fears and doubts. “I could do it,” I whispered.

  “I would never let you do that for me.”

  “I know.”

  “Fuck,” he said, dropping his head in his hands. “I never gave it much thought, but I always thought I would have kids.”

  “It’s the only reason the proposal scared me.” I wrapped my hand around his wrist, and he raised his head to look at me. “But I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything about the decisions I’ve made. I would leave my life behind all over again for the short time we’ve had together.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “You don’t think I’d give up that easily, do you? Give me some fucking credit.”

  “You have to give up,” I said, withdrawing my hand. More tears spilled from my eyes when I said, “The sooner we end this, the better.”

  “What the fuck?” he asked. “Is that what you want?”

  “No! Of course that’s not what I want!” I sobbed. “I want you all to myself for the rest of my life. I want to quit my job and travel the world with you and eat and drink and fuck and love you forever. I want to go to Spain and lie on the beach and eat oysters and dance flamenco and write my book, but this is real life, David! This is not a dream or a fantasy! What choice do we have?”

  “I want those things too.”

  “You say that now, but you don’t know what you’d be giving up. Because I love you, and I want your own happiness more than my own, I can’t take this away from you.” I paused and then crawled into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. He reclined with me onto the bed, his head on his pillow and mine on his chest.

  “But I love you,” he said, almost under his breath.

  I wanted
to claw open my chest and rip out my heart so I could give it to him. Take it. Take it all, because I will never need it again. I don’t want it.

  I wasn’t sure if he fell asleep, but his hold on me never loosened. This was my dream, my fantasy, my heaven, my nightmare, to be bound and wound with a love as strong as this.

  When light began to filter through the shades, I sat up. He was awake. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We have to go if we’re going to make our flight.” Then he crawled out of the bed, disappearing into the shower.

  I knotted my tangled hair back and brushed my teeth. My raccoon eyes were red and puffy and I fleetingly thought: this is exactly how I imagined I would look at the end.

  CHAPTER 28

  IT WAS SNOWING when we returned to Chicago. The stark contrast from Miami wasn’t only apparent in the weather. David and I had traveled in relative silence. He was attentive as always, making sure I was comfortable during the flight, but I could tell that he was deep in thought. I, on the other hand, finally had nothing left to think about.

  We’d booked an early flight with the intention of both going in to work, but I called in sick and didn’t have the energy to care what Beman said about it. David, however, went straight from the airport to the office after he’d put me in a cab with our luggage.

  I spent the day in the den, watching movies in the dark, because the alternative was worrying myself sick. I hated being in limbo, not knowing how things would go. I couldn’t see anything beyond the end of us. David was right: I did see him in my future, and I had seen him in that house so didn’t that mean something?

  My anxiety thickened when the third movie ended, and I realized it was nearing ten o’clock at night. He still wasn’t home. I pulled my phone from the coffee table. It revealed nothing from David, but there was an e-mail from Lucy. I stared at my inbox a moment before putting the phone back, deciding I wasn’t in the right state of mind.

  I’d just started another movie when I heard a noise. I immediately hit pause and looked up at David from the couch. “You’re home,” I said dumbly.

  He nodded. His tie was loosened, hair tousled and his hands were shoved into his trouser pockets.

  “It’s late,” I added.

  “I was looking for something,” was all he said. I understood. He’d been out looking for answers all day and I’d been here, numbing myself with nothingness and not making plans or decisions as I should’ve been. I hoped David would find his answers soon, because it killed me to see him this way. “I’m exhausted,” he said.

  I reached for the remote, shut the TV off and went to stand. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “No.”

  I paused at his tone. It was angry. Since I had turned off the TV, the only light in the room came from the doorway behind him, turning him into a silhouette. I sank back into the couch. “Oh.”

  “I fired Arnaud.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “You were right. He tried to deny everything, called you a liar when I told him what you’d seen. But after some coercion, he admitted to pressuring Clare. Others too.” He stopped, and even in the semi-dark, I could sense his jaw clench and unclench. “The new girl said he threatened her on Friday. If she didn’t sleep with him, she’d be fired. That was when you showed up.”

  I let out a small gasp as tears pricked my eyes.

  “It’s my fault,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him. “You didn’t know.”

  “I should’ve known. I let them down. And for those few moments on Friday, you were alone with him and I was on my way to New York.”

  “David,” I whispered.

  “He put the business in jeopardy,” he continued. “Those girls could’ve sued us into the ground. And our partnership flipping houses is done. I’ll lose money on our current project, but I don’t give a damn.”

  I studied him a moment. “What did you mean by coercion?”

  “I didn’t fight,” he said calmly, “even though I wanted to. I focused on you. On what losing control could mean for me and how it would affect you.”

  I closed my eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “But I shook him up a little. A lot,” he corrected.

  I pictured David lifting Arnaud’s slight body easily, maybe with one arm, and pinning him to the wall. It made me smile, but I said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I should’ve listened the first time you told me how you felt about him.”

  “What about Clare?”

  “I apologized, said I didn’t know about Arnaud. She’s going to reconsider the lawsuit.”

  I nodded. “Good. Can we go to bed now?”

  “We’re not finished.”

  Shit.

  “Did I or did I not,” he intoned between gritted teeth, “tell you several times not to go see Bill without me?”

  My throat felt suddenly dry so I only nodded.

  His laugh was empty. “But why the fuck would you listen to anything I say?”

  “I went to his office,” I said. “He would never jeopardize his job for me, and he was perfectly compliant.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he clipped. “I want to be there for that shit. If he lays a hand on you, if he calls you names, I promised I would be your shield. Why won’t you let me?”

  I felt overwhelmingly exhausted in that moment, and I didn’t want to fight. “But it was good news,” I said to myself. “He agreed to the six months.”

  “Six months and your share of the savings. Jerry told me.”

  “It only makes sense. It’s my money.”

  He took a step toward me. My breathing shallowed when his next step gave way to a prowl. “You’ll do whatever it takes to keep one foot out the door.”

  “No.” It came out as a frightened whispered.

  Everything about him was tense, including his hard expression. I jumped up from the couch, but he caught me by the waist and tossed me back onto it. He grabbed the undersides of my knees and dragged me to the end, positioning my pelvis so it was vertical against the arm. He licked his lips and looked into my eyes as he undid his pants. In his eyes I could see his need for me, and he needed me bad for whatever he was going through. I was only wearing my nightgown and underwear, so next he took off my panties and flung them aside.

  He propped himself over me with one hand next to my head and used the other to feed himself into me. I grasped at tiny breaths as I took his length slowly, clutching desperately at each inch like it was the last time. He rooted himself as deeply as he could before his thrusts began. “You want me to leave you?” he asked.

  “No,” I grated.

  “Want me to throw you out with nothing?”

  “No,” I said, and his drives grew harder, mashing me into the couch.

  “Want me to break you, once and for all?”

  I gasped. “No.”

  “Then tell me so,” he said through his teeth.

  “I love you,” I said as I watched him blur with my tears.

  “Tell me you want me to stay.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Beg me,” he commanded with hardness in his eyes.

  “Please stay,” I breathed.

  “That’s not good enough.” Salty tears fell down my cheeks, and I bit my lip. He wrapped his large hand at the base of my throat to pull me onto him harder. “Beg.”

  “Don’t . . . leave me,” I choked through a sob. “Don’t ever leave me, David, please, I’m begging you. I couldn’t take it. I love you and I need you, God, I fucking need you more than anything in the world, stay, stay forever, stay.”

  As the pleas tumbled out, he straightened his back and levered my hips up in the air. His hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me into each harsh thrust. His eyes had glazed over in a way I’d never seen, but I trusted him, and I let him take me how he needed until I was squirming under him, fisting the couch, arching my back and mewling, sobbing, begging him to stay and finally, coming with shudders that were l
ost in the aggressive way he fucked me.

  “I want everything from you,” he growled, “until you no longer know who the fuck you are because I have every part of you. I’m sick of asking for it, and now I’m taking it.” His need came faster, my body just a receptacle now, each thrust with a louder grunt until, like he was going in for the kill, his jaw set, his grip tightened, his head jerked up to the ceiling, and he erupted into me. He held me there for a while longer as his eyes remained fixed upward, his wet cock sliding in and out of me slowly, leisurely. Then he pulled out and dropped me back on the couch. I’d done hardly anything and I was breathing hard; his chest was heaving. Without a word, he turned and left the room.

  I stood shakily and pulled my underwear back on. When I got to the bedroom, he was sprawled out on his side of the bed, over the comforter, in just his boxer briefs. He was already passed out. I climbed in next to him and shut my eyes.

  ~

  I stand in the darkness of the night, the rebelling tide threatening to pull me out to sea with each lap at my ankles. There’s a presence behind me. It wants to protect me by consuming me. It slides itself around my neck, pulling me close until it’s so tight that I can no longer breathe. I try to pull it away, but it’s not the presence anymore that’s strangling me; it’s a snake, and the rough scales slither along my bare skin. I open my mouth to scream, but I am voiceless. As the presence dissolves, the snake untangles itself and swims away into the night. I dive in after it.

  I jerked awake. Despite the cold, sweat trickled down my temples. I’d forgotten to close the blinds and moonlight streamed through the window, striping the comforter. David was serenely sleeping, his back rising and falling evenly in the position I’d found him earlier.

  I took my phone from the nightstand and opened my e-mail.

  From: Lucy Greene

  Sent: Mon, November 26, 2012 04:16 PM CST

  To: Olivia Germaine

  Subject: Re: Hi

 

‹ Prev