by Nivia Borell
When he brushes my arm with his finger, goosebumps break out on my skin. His unique, musky male smell surrounds me, and his breath and fingers on me play havoc with my head. The bastard knows exactly what he does to me and is not even ashamed of it.
Before I can shove him to put some very necessary distance between us, he yanks me toward him, and our eyes collide, emptiness to vacuum, calmness to storm, light to darkness. Right now, he feels like the sun, and I am the moon, and I willingly, freely, and out of a surreal love for him go down every morning so he can rise and shine over the earth.
“You haven’t answered me, Damien, and stop touching me.” It would have been a demand if my tone matched my determination. How unfair to be betrayed by yourself.
“Why, Bria? Does my touch do funny things to you?”
He’s smirking at me, the bastard. He has the audacity to grin. Damn it all to hell! I put my finger on his face while he backtracks a few steps as I follow him only for him to go the next second in his predatory way and reverse the pace.
“Is that fire I see in your eyes, Bria? I must do something well, then.”
He’s prowling toward me, and I withdraw until the wall hinders me. Why is this stupid wall the only one standing in the way of my escape? Rage surges in me.
“Where are you going to run, Bria? Does my proximity put you off your balance?”
I pound my fists on his chest, and shout, tears streaming down my face.
“You bastard! You arrogant asshole! Who do you think you are? Well, let me explain it to you, then. You are nothing to me. You don’t put me off balance, and just so we can be clear about this, I don’t react in any way to you. I don’t know what game you’re playing, and I don’t care.” I point toward the door. “And let me rephrase something you said to me exactly one year ago…‘Get the hell out of here.’”
Shivers rock my body. So much energy wasted, and for what? To feel even more frustrated than before? Why do I have to bring the night of my twenty-fourth birthday up, the night holding equal beauty and monstrosity to it leaving me incapable to separate the good from the devastation that encompassed me.
He grabs my hands in his as he raises them above my head. It should infuriate me but somehow has a calming effect. I am truly deranged.
“Stop it, Bria. This is not good for you. Are you trying to kill yourself so I can witness it? Is this what you want? Well, let me tell you something…” Damien lets our hands drop, and then cups my face in his calloused ones as I lean toward him. “I am a worthless piece of shit, Bria, but…” he laces our fingers together and palms my heart with his other hand, “… if yours ceases beating, mine will too, Bria. They have always been attached, baby, and I can’t and won’t stop it. I can’t live in a world where you are no longer present. Don’t you get it? We’re bound by the same chain, and you know it. Fight me, punch me, and say all the things you have kept bottled up inside, but don’t leave me without you.”
Something resembling a bitter laugh leaves my lips as I crane my neck at him and tap my lower lip. “For a moment, I thought you were being noble, but as always, you think only of yourself, Damien. What the fuck! Why the change of heart suddenly? Go to Monica. Let her heal you. Why are you here, so close to me, when the love of your life and your future wife is still in London? I mean, she is the one who… how do I phrase it… tamed you so you quit screwing everything with legs and tits, you once told me. And between the two of us, I am the whore even though I have never touched another man in my life.”
With the back of my hand, I wipe the tears away and continue. “Exactly one year ago, Damien, you called me a whore, but you were the duplicitous one. I pursed my lips and died inside as you buried me with your cruel accusations which had no fact, only suppositions. And now you’re here trying to do what? You made me like this, accept it, and leave.”
He backpedals as if I smacked him. I take advantage and dash toward the edge of the bed and crumple.
DAMIEN
She should fire everything she has on me, but when the truth of your mistakes is shoved in your face, you try to make excuses for yourself. I need a moment to think because I have to proceed with caution. I rake my fingers through my hair and venture to her. Bria’s words gut me. I deserve them and more, though.
“I never called you a whore, Bria,” I say trying to placate her.
“No? Oh, sorry, Damien. You just implied it. My bad. Just go…. now.” She points one trembling finger toward the door.
My feet carry me to her. “I can’t, Bria. I can’t leave you like this.”
I knee and nudge myself between her legs that widen without me even uttering the words. She must have realized her slip, but it’s too late for her to close them. Her sigh deflates me.
“Yes, let’s pity the poor little Bria. Oh, she’s ill, and she is on a suicide mission. I don’t need your compassion, Damien!” She tilts her head to the side, palms rubbing her thighs, nose stuck in the air.
I grip her hands and order, “Stop yelling and being so difficult, Bria. Sure, you have every right to be mad at me, and I’ll take everything you throw at me, but for the love of all that is dear, don’t say I’m sorry for you. I am here with my wounds bare for you to see, and show you who I am, a fractured man. I have nothing on my agenda, Bria.”
With her puffy eyes, and her face drawn in dark, vertical lines from her mascara running down her round cheeks, she is a beauty in pain, and I am desperate to unburden her. I trace the contour of her graceful face and rejoice in her smoothness.
“Why do you constantly have to touch me? It’s unnerving,” she pouts, and my heart flutters. I am totally screwed when it comes to her.
“I haven’t seen you in a whole year. I hoped to see you somewhere, even for a moment, but it never happened. The only thing keeping me sane in this instant is to touch you and realize you’re here with me.”
She folds her hands over her chest. I will ram every new shield she shapes around her.
“I was busy with work and stuff. Most of the time, I was in my office or home, and on some nights, I had dinner with my parents and Filip.”
“I ached to burst through your office door so many times. I have often flown in the hopes of seeing you,” I confess, but she gives me an incredulous look and snorts.
“You’re full of bullshit, love.”
As having enough with me, she strolls away and returns to the spot near the window.
I am slowly losing my patience with her, so I do what I think will make her stop spitting venom. I reach her in two strides, cradle her face in my hands, press her against the nearest wall, and before she even has a chance to dismiss me, I slam my longing lips on her succulent ones. I kiss her long, devouring her moans. Her body flutters against mine, and then she locks her hands around my neck, and her fingers pull at my hair. She kisses me back with the same ardor, and it knocks my breath away. In these moments, Bria feeds life inside of me. When she opens her mouth to my demanding one, I suck her tongue in and roar. She makes these sexy noises in the back of her throat that heats my blood. I grab her bottom as she wraps her legs around my waist.
If this is wrong, why the hell does it feel so incredibly perfect?
I cannot restrain myself around her. I am hooked on her. She lights a fire inside me no one else can extinguish. Loud groans, moans, and suckling follow like a tune as I ravish her mouth, and she claws at my back. We are punishing and loving each other, each of us exposed for the other to see the rawness, the regrets, and the fire we still have for each other. When she gasps for air, I nibble at her neck. Bria pants, but I still am not able to put her down.
She grazes her now swollen bottom lip and says, “I think this thing is not normal. Why do we always have to end up like this when we’re alone? I fancy both of us are not right in the head anymore.”
Her response brings a genuine smile on my face. It feels strange to sense the unfamiliar movements of my face muscles. I am not used to my lips curving into something other than a sour ex
pression these days.
“Because then we can’t hide it anymore, Bria. It subdues us, and we are too weak to control it.”
I keep grinning at her, and when she returns it, my entire world bursts with light. She curls her hands around my neck and caresses me, and the ends of my hair stand up.
“Damien, I don’t want to fight anymore. I can try and try, but in the end, you’ll always win. And I am tired, so wearied you can’t even imagine it. I know you think you’ll like it more if I’m around somewhere, but it’s not true. You’ll always have these mixed feelings, and it’s not fair, not for you or me or the most important person in this messed up triangle… Monica.”
Bria plants a firm finger on my lips and shakes her head, and I gnash my teeth but nod for her to continue with the nonsense. “She’ll be your wife, and you love her. I know you too well. You wouldn’t have settled for anything less. You’ll have children, and you’ll feel guilty about still wanting to bed their mother’s cousin. It’s the best way, believe me.”
I place her down, sprint toward the table, and in an instant, rage engulfs me. I grasp her empty wine glass and hurl it at the mirror. It shatters into hundreds of pieces and scatters on the carpet.
“I don’t love her. I never did, and I never will.” I shout and pace the floor, my hands tugging at my hair, blind to the wrath I unleashed. Shards of glass crack under my custom-made Italian leather shoes.
“Wait. What did you just say? Did I hear you correctly?”
I crook my head only to see Bria’s mouth hang open and her brows arched. Catching my gaze, she fidgets with the ends of her necklace, a reminder of happier times.
“We were pretending, Bria. I knew it would pain you more to think I was involved with your cousin and planned to marry her. It was retribution. You always had this small reaction, a mere twitch in your jaw, but it was there when you saw me with a woman, but you put yourself together quickly. It wasn’t helping my cause, so, I went even further and took her on board. I have never even touched her, Bria. I haven’t been with a woman since the last time I was with you.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why haven’t I been with another woman since you?”
She nods, and I run a palm down my face.
“I couldn’t erase you from my system a second time because no one else is you. They are not you. I did and said horrible things that night, but I swear, Bria, I was so fucking hurting inside so I lied for my self-preservation. There was a moment when I wanted just to screw everything else and beg you to accept me back. But I was a coward, Bria, afraid you’d hurt me again.
“This is me, loving you like a full idiot. I couldn’t bury my feeling for you again, so I stopped even glancing at other women. I was always comparing them to you anyway. I made love only to you, only to you, Bria. I have never touched or kissed anyone the way I have you. Although I blamed you for everything, I never found in me the strength to finish the last remnant of you. Please, look at me, Bria.”
She tilts her head and contemplates me with those glossy hazel eyes in which I see my heart beating inside her chest.
“I have loved only one woman in my entire life, and it is you. You were the first and the last. And you would have left so I can marry someone else? The person who set you up and had someone to drug you, and you would have allowed me to have children with the person who caused our baby’s death. I never planned to stay with her, but you amaze me. Not even the numbness altered your goodness. What did you ever see in me?”
Shock and pain cross her face, her eyes almost bulging out of her head. She puts her hand over her heart, eyelids dropped. I dart to her and place my hand over hers.
She sobs. “It’s not fair, Damien. Could you hold me, just for a moment? I don’t know if I am strong on my own anymore.” The pain in her voice pierces my ears. I discard my jacket and toss it on the armchair. I gather and carry her to bed, lay her down, and then uncover the first two buttons of my shirt, roll my sleeves and get in the bed next to her. Bria rests her head against my heart, and I stroke her back.
“I saw the video, Bria. I was in the bar room, too. And I heard you telling Alexander what caused your emotional numbness. Would you tell me about it?”
“About the baby?” There is a strange mixture of pain and excitement in her tone.
I nod. Although the loss of our baby had caused us so much pain, it feels good to talk and to hear her side of things—even seven years later. There is no one more valueless than I am.
BRIA
I lock my eyes as I sniffle the mix of musky, spicy, and his distinctive smell as I lay flush in his strong arms. Something resembling a purr leaves me as his long and dexterous fingers draw patterns on my collarbone. I tilt my head to see his signature smug grin appear in the corner of his lips. Yes, he beams with contentment. I enjoy this newfound peacefulness, but it is just a stolen moment as I remember I have a story to divulge that will whip any trace of contentment off his face, and the thought alone makes my heart constrict.
“Well, I am sure I got pregnant when we were on the trip to the French Alps. I assumed there was no risk I would end up pregnant if I didn’t take birth control pills for two days in a row. I should have known better, though.”
“You forgot them, didn’t you?” A knowing smile spreads on his face.
It is hard separating the past from the present when I have a clear glimpse of the boy I gave my heart to shine through to the man he became. The one I still have the distinct feeling of being home with.
“Well, yes. I spent so much time planning the trip and missing you and daydreaming about our mini-holiday that when you picked me up, I forgot and left them in my drawer. I convinced myself I wouldn’t get pregnant.”
“I guess you underestimated my potency,” he says, lightening up the mood a notch.
“Yes, your manhood hit me in the face when my period didn’t grace me with a visit the next month. I rushed to the store and bought five pregnancy tests, and they all turned out positive. I didn’t even freak out. Okay, maybe just a little. But then I already felt protective of the baby and was grateful I would complete high school in a month. I had it all figured out. We had already agreed to move to London together, and I was planning to take online courses.”
Emotions dance in his steel-blue eyes, and my heart somersaults in my chest.
“Well, you always wanted to be a young mom, and you’re right, we already had it all planned out. You know I would have asked you to marry me regardless. I had the ring on me, and with or without the baby, you would have become my wife. A baby would have been just a big bonus, and it would have given me a great story to tell.”
I roll my eyes at him. He would have definitely inflated the story.
“I am sure it would have been funny to hear you praise your potency and tell how you had to make an honorable woman out of me.”
He winks at me, and my ladies parts melt. Boy, is he dangerous to every cell in my system because somehow, they all bow to him.
“So perceptive, baby. You know me too well. But first, we would have gone to our place which I spent hours decorating for the occasion. Red rose petals led from the entrance to the oak tree. There were white, heart-shaped balloons. I had it all prepared so you would be so overwhelmed you could only say yes.”
My heart constricts for everything that was stolen from us. I swallow the lump in my throat and say, “Of course, I would have said yes. In case you have forgotten, I was impatient. And after five minutes, tops, I would have shown you my pregnancy test I carried in my purse.”
“Do you know what my next reaction would have been, Bria?”
“No, so tell me, Damien, please,” I plead with my eyes. And his features soften with his nod.
“I would have sucked on your curvy lips and dotted your beautiful face with kisses, and then I would have sunk to my knees and nuzzled your belly.”
Damien shifts from beside me. He squeezes between my legs, lifts the bottom of my shirt, and trails pecks o
n my lower abdomen. I put my hand on my mouth as fat tears blur my vision.
“And I would have said, ‘Hey, buddy. Your mom just agreed to be my wife, and not only that, she gave me another great gift, you, little one. And I want to say welcome to the family, and we both love you very much and can’t wait to introduce you to our world.’” His voice cracks with emotions.
I feel something wet on my stomach, and my heart quivers. I pat him on the head and say, “You would have been a great father, Damien. Our baby would have been so blessed to have you in his life. I am sorry you never got the chance.”
His eyes land on me, and I chew on my lip until I peel a layer off.
“Why didn’t you say it the moment you knew for certain? Maybe…”
“I know where you’re going, but I wanted to surprise you. I never fathomed something like that could happen to us, and our world would crash in an instant. So I decided to wait. This is my biggest regret. I could have prevented it all. I’m sure you would have flown back home right away, and that night would never have happened.”
A sigh escapes me. “I was so tired most of the time. Mom thought I had caught something, but I kept assuring her I was fine. I wanted you to be the first one to know. It was between us, our little miracle, and I wished to have some time alone with you and the baby growing inside me. I had this crazy idea it would bond us even more if we kept the news to ourselves for a little longer. I didn’t even want to go out with Monica, but she made me feel like I was dumping my own birthday party. You were still in London until the next day, and Sophia and Filip were in Paris at the time scoping potential universities to enrol in. I didn’t understand why Monica wanted to celebrate with me when my official birthday was in two days, and all of us would be together anyway. Well, now I know the reason.”
He crawls back from between me to his position beside me only to spoon me as my back leans on his stone-like upper body. He kisses the back of my head and says. “It was not your fault, baby. You have to realize it. And she’ll pay for what she did to us.”
