Carved in Stone

by Donna McDonald

  “You’ve been staying away from me on purpose?” Michael asked, the question all but choking him. All the time he’d chased her and she’d been running like hell in the other direction.

  “Yes. I stayed away in every way I could. It worked for a number of years. In my original projects, I refused to plan art events. Then three years ago, I suddenly couldn’t talk my boss out of assigning me to you because he wanted us to work together. What the hell could I say? How could I refuse without looking unprofessional? I was the best at what I did, and Paul wanted me to work with you. Then to my surprise your art events accelerated my career, so I resolved to find a way to live with our business relationship despite the past,” she explained.

  “I was attracted to you the first time Paul introduced us three years ago,” Michael said, his innate honesty ruling his tongue. “You’ve been married and unavailable twice in two years. The women I dated other than you never really mattered to me. Every time you were single, I tried to be with you. You know that.”

  “Yes, but now you can understand why I didn’t—and still don’t—want to be involved with you. Staying away seemed the only choice to me, but I hear crazy people never think they’re crazy, only other people do,” she said, sighing and looking away from him.

  “Carrie, all I have wanted in the last three years is a chance to get to know you,” Michael declared. “How are those women I dated any different than the men you married? If you had dated me, you wouldn’t have married them.”

  “I don’t think you’re hearing me, Michael. How can I make this clear to you? When I decide to spend the rest of my life with a man and have his children, it’s going to be with a man I can fall in love with and trust completely. That will never be you,” Carrie said firmly. “Every time I look at you, I only see the boy that hurt me. I don’t like the way you are with women.”

  Michael stood and walked away from her, too horrified by what she was saying to be able to think about all it meant. All this time he had loved her, chased her, and she had hated, feared, and loathed him for the mistakes of their past. Instead of him being a moth to her flame, it looked like it had been the other way around. Or maybe it was both. God help him, even after all she’d said he still wanted her.

  “So you’re probably wondering, if I hated you so much all this time, then why did I crawl into bed with you a month ago?” Carrie asked the obvious.

  Michael turned around to look at her, his own pain finding its way into his words as he answered. “Let me guess, you were planning to sleep with me and dump me? Or did you just intend to embarrass me with your rejection the next morning and hope I would spend all the weeks that followed being mentally tortured trying to figure out what I had done wrong?”

  “No. It was actually nothing like that at all. At the art show last month, I stood under all that twisted metal in Anguish and wondered how you couldn’t see that you had created a replica of the pain that was inside me for you all this time. When you kissed me while I was crying, I simply broke. When you were inside me all night, I was like a drug addict wanting fix after fix. But the next morning—the next morning I hated myself for my weakness. Because it was wonderful, I hated you even more for not remembering that you had once been inside me all those years ago.”

  Carrie picked up the ice water where she stood, drank half and put the glass back on the table. She put a shaking hand on the chair for support.

  “I didn’t tell you my story to make you feel bad about college or what we did a month ago. I just want you to know why I really can’t spend the rest of my life letting you destroy me over and over. For the record, I don’t hold you any more accountable for the college stuff than I hold myself. It was my fault for having unprotected sex with a drunk guy. I consider that the end of our short, pathetic story back then,” she said. “What happened between us a month ago, I can’t explain completely, not even to myself.”

  “Carrie—I’m sorry about what happened when we were in college,” Michael said, his voice barely a whisper. “All I remember is some generic two years of an emptiness I finally got tired of and outgrew.”

  “I guess that’s my point, Michael. You don’t remember it, but I will never be able to forget,” Carrie said. “What happened the first time is the reason I’m making myself come tell you now. Otherwise, I might have done as Tom asked and started over with him.”

  “Or you might have dated me when I asked you the first time,” Michael told her.

  “I would never have dated you because you have poor taste in bed partners. Among the other women you were seeing when we met, you were dating Erin then, remember?” Carrie said lightly. “She made a special point of telling everyone in the office all the things you liked to do to her in bed.”

  “Well, shit,” Michael spat. “It’s not my fault she was indiscreet.”

  “How about Angela or Daphne?” Carrie asked. “And I seem to recall several others besides them. The two blonds you were with at the party were from my sorority. I got to hear in great detail how they competed in bed for you—together. So how much have you really changed since college, Michael? My actions seem to indicate I’m still just as stupid as I was then. I’m not sure people ever grow up. I don’t believe you have when it comes to women.”

  She turned as if to leave but stopped and looked at the floor as she finished.

  “I would rather have nothing more to do with you, but I simply can’t do the wrong thing again. Killing one of our children was all the evil I had in me for a lifetime. Now I just want to find a solution I can live with and try to go on. I can’t raise a child when I don’t even like the father. So if you want our baby, you can have it. You seem to have grown into a mostly decent man despite your womanizing,” Carrie said.

  Michael wanted to find words to explain to her how empty it was to fill your hours with women other than the one you wanted, but he couldn’t. All he found inside was the same level of desire for Carrie Addison that he always seemed to have when he was near her. He wanted her in his life, wanted to get to know her. Something about her called to every instinct he had.

  “Carrie,” Michael said quietly, “you are the ideal for me. I’ve regretted many of the women I’ve known, but I am not sorry for being with you a few weeks ago. That’s a night I will never forget. I didn’t mean to get you pregnant, but I will do the right thing for you and our child. You have my word.”

  She walked to the kitchen doorway. “Don’t answer me now. Think about it for a few days, and then you can let me know for sure.”

  “I can tell you that answer already because I know what I want. I won’t change my mind about you or the baby,” Michael said, meaning it even when he had no idea how he was going to making it work.

  “Well, be sure about the baby,” Carrie advised softly. “I’ve learned the hard way that the consequences of some bad decisions last a long time.”

  Michael heard the front door click and knew she had gone. He had known better than to try to stop her. It was obvious Carrie couldn’t wait to be away from him after what she’d shared. He got a beer out of the refrigerator, sat at the table, and drank it while he stared at the half a glass of water she’d left behind.

  He thought of his father curled up in the bed upset over wrongs he’d imagined he done to a woman he cared about. His sympathy to that situation grew a hundred-fold.

  Certainly his reaction to Carrie getting married each time had not been good, and he’d gone a little overboard with dating to forget her each time. But no one he’d dated over the last three years had meant anything to him. His fondness for Erin, who until tonight he had considered a good friend, had now dimmed as well with finding out she’d been so indiscreet.

  Only being with Carrie had ever felt right to him. She was the woman he ached for as his Dad would say. At least he now knew there was a fire in Carrie Addison that burned just as hotly for him. Two husbands and a potential third hadn’t been able to keep her out of his arms a month ago. Michael intended to find out what it
was that drew them together over and over no matter what they did.

  Maybe he couldn’t change the past, Michael decided, but he could definitely bend and shape the present.

  One way or another, he was going to be Carrie Addison’s next husband, even if only for the next seven or eight months. During that time, Michael would try to balance his karmic debt to her with kindness and support. Then after the baby was born, if she still wanted to leave, Michael would find the courage to give her a divorce and help her find whatever life she wanted without him and the baby.

  As Michael drank the rest of his beer, he thought of the pile of metal rings in the courtyard. It was ironic that he had been creating the four-foot-tall sculpture of multiple wedding bands to remind Carrie of her multiple marriages.

  Now Michael was putting himself next in line to become one of her husbands, and it wasn’t so damn amusing anymore. His arrogance had burned to ashes in the same fire source that created his child.

  So instead of having the lazy day he’d intended tomorrow, Michael decided he was going to buy the purest gold he could find and make a set of matching wedding rings. In the metal he would etch the truth and hope Carrie would be seduced by his art one more time.

  Chapter 17

  Will woke in the dark and heard someone calling out in panic. It took a couple moments for him to realize that what had awakened him was Jessica tossing and turning in the bed beside him. She was having a dream and calling out in distress.

  “No. Please. Don’t do this. I’m married. Nathan—Nathan,” she called, finally lapsing into gut-wrenching tears.

  Will put one arm over her for comfort, trying to avoid restraining her.

  “Jessica,” he called loudly, scared and hurting for the torment she was in. “Jessica, wake up. Honey, you’re dreaming.”

  Jessica opened her eyes and flinched away from Will, then relaxed again as her vision cleared and focused on him.

  “Oh, God. That was awful,” she said, patting Will’s arm across her. “That hasn’t happened to me in a really long time. Thank you for waking me up.”

  Will cradled her in his arms, holding her as tightly to him as he dared. “You were calling for your husband,” he said.

  “Yes,” Jessica agreed hoarsely. “It’s a dream I’ve had many times before. It’s just been a while since the last time.”

  “You tried to think of Nathan during the rape?” Will asked softly, lifting his arm from her stomach, to let his hand stroke back her hair.

  Jessica waited a long time before answering. “Yes. But it didn’t make any difference. They wouldn’t stop. One of them knew Nathan was dead.”

  Will fought back the surge of anger he felt. This was not the time to express it. Jessica needed relief, not to be worried about him.

  “Well, I can see why you would call for Nathan,” Will said, softly rubbing her arms and tucking the cover over her bare shoulders. “I’m sure your husband would have stopped it from happening if he could have. I’m sure he’s been grateful for every good man you’ve known since. In fact, I am absolutely, positively sure of that because I feel the same way now. I’m not jealous of your past anymore.”

  Tears ran down both sides of Jessica’s face and into her hair. Will’s words were a soothing salve to the newly reopened wound in her.

  “I thought all the remembering was behind me. I haven’t thought about the rape or Nathan in years. It’s just that you—,” Jessica stopped herself from the comparison.

  “It’s okay. You can say it—I remind you of your husband,” Will finished.

  “Yes,” Jessica said, tears making her voice thick. Her heart hurt for being unfair to Will.

  Will looked at her tears, and they called to him for a solution. So he opened his mind and found one. He could listen and be her friend.

  “Tell me about what it was like to be with your husband,” Will whispered, kissing her shoulder in the dark.

  “I can’t do that,” Jessica protested. “It’s not fair to you, and I just—can’t.”

  “What happened wasn’t fair to you or Nathan. Screw fair,” Will told her. “I’m not going to be jealous of a good woman who loved a good man. And you have a right to those memories. Tell me how he made love to you, Jessica. What did your husband do?”

  “I’m not going to talk to you about this. Besides, I don’t remember anymore,” Jessica denied, tears burning and flowing. It was even partly true. She and Nathan had been barely more than children when they were married.

  “Let’s start with little things,” Will coaxed. “How did Nathan kiss you?” Jessica was quiet for so long, Will thought she might have fallen back to sleep. He stroked her hair again. “Tell me, honey. How did your husband kiss you?”

  “He kissed me like he had to or go crazy,” Jessica replied at last, the words burning her throat.

  “Okay. That makes perfect sense. Now tell me the favorite move he did with you,” Will encouraged, rubbing her arms.

  “I can’t,” Jessica said, shaking her head. “I can’t talk to you about what I’ve done with other men.”

  “It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to know about what you did with Steve Lipton, but I absolutely want to hear about Nathan Daniels. It’s a contextual interest. Dip into that honesty you’re always bragging about and tell me,” Will said firmly, his hands on her more insistent than before to keep her from turning away.

  Jessica closed her eyes and let the ragged sigh she’d been holding back escape.

  “Nathan would hold my breast and thumb the nipple to make it hard while he French-kissed me,” Jessica said, feeling evidence of Will’s arousal pressing against her leg and his chuckle in her ear. She sighed wistfully at how simple it all sounded and how comforted she felt in Will’s embrace. “We weren’t very advanced then.”

  “It’s still a great move,” Will said frankly, his hand finding her breast and cupping it lightly. “Anything else?”

  Her silence told him there was, so he pressed.

  “How aggressive was he in getting inside you?” Will whispered the question.

  “He—he wasn’t as careful as—he usually just made sure I was really ready and then slid inside in one move,” Jessica admitted.

  Will laughed softly. “Damn impatient young men.”

  Jessica laughed and sniffled in return. “It had its charms at the time.”

  Will kissed Jessica’s teary eyes. “The joys of youth, right? What did your husband call you in bed, Jessica?”

  “I can’t tell you that—besides, it’s embarrassing,” she said, her voice breaking in shame.

  “Jessica,” Will said firmly, in a tone that normally got compliance from most people. “Answer my question.”

  “Luscious,” Jessica admitted softly. “Nathan called me that because he said he liked the way I tasted.”

  “Well damn—no wonder you get us confused, it’s uncanny how much he and I are alike,” Will commented, making Jessica laugh.

  “Yes, and you both talk way too much during sex,” Jessica said hoarsely, half-laughing, half-crying. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  Will bit his lip to keep from sighing. Despite what he promised, he was now officially jealous of a dead man. “You are a very sexy and amazing woman, Jessica Daniels. Nathan was a lucky man to have a wife who loved him as much as you did. I bet you loved him back just as much.”

  “Yes,” Jessica said, voice choking with the tears she couldn’t stop. “I loved him. I truly loved him.”

  “Of course you did,” Will said quietly, holding her as she cried and grieved.

  Unfortunately, the heartfelt declaration of love wasn’t something Will had been expecting to hear her say about any other man but him. Jessica had told Will she had never loved any man since her husband, but it was still damn hard to hear how easily Jessica had said those words about Nathan Daniels. Having insisted on the conversation, Will had no one to blame but himself for how disappointed it made him feel.

  Jessica cried hersel
f softly to sleep while Will held her close in the dark. He wondered what his chances for a future were with a woman who was still very much another man’s wife in her heart.

  ***

  They went for a long bike ride through the horse farms on the way to eat breakfast Sunday morning. Will enjoyed having Jessica pressed intimately along the back of him, so he let his sense of contentment override his other concerns.

  He had awakened to a fully dressed Jessica kissing his jaw line and teasing him about sleeping his life away. Seeing her smiling but still anxious expression, he’d quickly decided to put aside what happened in the night, telling himself he would think about it later. Jessica looked and acted mostly okay, and that was the most important thing, even if she still wasn’t her typical carefree and happy self.

  Until the anxiety left her, he wasn’t going to discuss what had been said in the dark. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear how Jessica felt about her dead husband, especially if she still longed for him. Instead, Will decided to focus only on enjoying the bike ride and just being with her.

  They pulled into a local organic restaurant in Midway known for its great food and fun atmosphere. When Will turned off the bike, Jessica climbed off and removed her helmet, shaking her hair loose. She bent to the mirror to check her appearance and grimaced at what she saw. Will grinned and pulled the ink pen from his pocket that she had used before to secure her hair. The beaming smile Jessica gave him was all the reward he could have asked for.

  “My hero,” Jessica said, taking the ink pen from Will and grinning.

  “It hasn’t been out of my pocket since you gave it back. I hope you know it was really hard to ride away from you that day knowing you were upset with me,” Will told her.

  She twirled her hair up and leaned into Will for a thank-you kiss as she slid the ink pen into her hair.

  “Resourceful men on sexy black bikes are impossible to resist for long,” she told him, clutching his shirt front for a moment. “Especially tall, handsome ones offering to pay for breakfast.”