We completed lunch together and were soon settled down to eat. Benjamin took my dad’s place at the head of the table and David rose from his seat to offer it to me so I could seat by Benjamin’s side.
At my other side was Xander and the level of discomfort that it induced made me worry if I would be able to eat properly.
Small talk ensued amongst us, as Benjamin introduced his profession of a lawyer. Everyone contributed except Xander and me. His hands loomed dangerously close to mine as they handled his cutlery, however, I avoided them as though I would be set on fire if we touched.
His being here made me incredibly sad and reminded me more than anything of the life that I had chosen to leave behind.
“Your father?” David asked more than halfway through dinner. “How is he doing?”
As if on cue, the door opened then and in came my father in his wheelchair, my brother walking behind him. They both stopped at the sight of the full table and looked around in puzzlement. I smiled at the settling of his bunched eyebrows the moment his eyes landed on Bethany’s familiar face.
She immediately rose and headed over to give him a hug. “Harold,” she sang.
“Could you pass me the salad?” Xander asked and momentarily distracted, I did as I was asked without a second thought. When his hand touched mine the heat that burned me made me jump.
The glass salad bowl fell to the ground and shattered, spilling greens and sweetcorn mixed in with mayonnaise everywhere.
I looked at Xander accusingly. He had touched me on purpose. He had purposely covered my hand with his when I offered the bowl to him.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I am,” I answered furiously and bent down to pick up the bowl and he did the same thing. “You did that on purpose,” I swore underneath my breath.
He stopped and looked at me. “Did what?”
I seethed as I stared into his green eyes, my gaze involuntarily slithering down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Upset, I tore my gaze from his and it landed on my father.
Fear instantly seized my chest. I told myself to calm down and then slowly my lips stretched into a smile. I puckered my lips into a kiss and sent it to him and then rose to head into the kitchen so I could get a broom.
♡
XANDER
I watched her leave and then stood with a sigh to take the pieces of the broken bowl into the kitchen, however just before I could, her father spoke.
“What’s your name?”
For a moment everyone at the table wondered who he was referring to, but it soon became clear. I turned fully to him and gave a slight bow of my head. “Xander Cage.”
“Haven’t we met before?”
“We have, sir,” I replied.
“Come see me when you’re done eating,” he said, and I nodded in acceptance. Carson’s mother came into the room and took over from the man behind her husband, who I assumed was her son. She took his hat off his head and rolled him away.
Carson returned then with a broom which her fiancé immediately took form her. “Let me do it,” he said, and she smiled lovingly at him. She took the broken pieces from me, not even bothering to meet my eyes and exited to the kitchen.
She didn’t return to her seat beside me. Soon we were finished with the meal and I was directed to her father’s study, on the second floor.
When I arrived, I met him seated in the wheelchair, a warm blanket across his lap and the hat that his wife had previously removed now back on his head.
The room was small but distinct enough, with dark furniture and the unexpected smell of jasmine. Carson’s mom was probably responsible for that one.
“Take a seat,” he said to me and I wondered why he had specifically asked for me. I had a good guess the moment he began to speak. “You are not still in a relationship with my daughter, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head in response.
“Then why are you here?”
“We have mutual friends,” I responded. “I thought it would be a great opportunity to pay you a visit. Even though we are not properly acquainted, you are her father.”
“Are you interested in my daughter?” he asked, and my eyes narrowed at the question.
“She’s engaged, sir,” I said.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, I am not,” I replied. “We had our run together and parted ways amicably. We remain good friends.”
He kept studying me without saying anything else, so uncomfortable, I rose and bowed slightly so that I could take my leave. “I’m glad to see that you’re doing so much better, sir.”
“What do you do for a living?” he asked, and for a moment I was stumped. I wasn’t sure how to introduce myself. “I used to work with Carson in a coffee shop.”
“Your sales assistant salary can afford those clothes on your back?”
I glanced down at my cream sweater with burnt orange, navy blue and grey stripes encircling the sleeves. I didn't know how to respond to him.
“So, what do you do now?”
I didn't want to lie to him. “Hustle, sir.”
“Hustle?” He smiled and let out a light laugh and for a few moments, I was taken aback at how much the smile changed his entire face. For the first time, I could see a resemblance to Carson. I bowed slightly to him and exited the room, feeling as though I had just exited an interview.
I was surprised when I almost bumped into Carson at the door.
She seemed startled but quickly recovered, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I was heading to my room,” she explained. “W-what did he ask you?”
I released a deep breath as I stared at her. “You never responded to the last text message I sent to you.”
She lowered her gaze then almost making me believe that she was somewhat apologetic. “Oh, um… I had a lot going on then.”
She turned around to leave then but I caught her hand. She gaze down at it and then back up at me. “What is it?”
“Let’s talk,” I said to her.
She reached forward to push my hand away but when I wouldn’t budge my hold she frowned at me. “What do we have to talk about?”
Frustrated at her constant dismissal, I began to pull her along and opened the first door I saw. It was a small bathroom with a shower stall.
I placed myself between her and the door to prevent her exit, and her eyes widened in alarm.
“What are you doing?” She tried to reach behind me for the knob, but I prevented it.
I studied her properly for the first time since I had come into the house. For the concern of other eyes, I had only given her glances here and there, but not a full study of the changes to her features. I realized then how utterly exhausted she looked. “Why do you look so tired?” I asked.
“Because I am,” she replied, “Please open the door. This is inappropriate.”
“We’re just having a conversation.”
“In a closed bathroom in my parent’s house. With my fiancé just downstairs and my father just a few steps away. This isn't funny, Xander.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, I just have one question for you. Why are you getting married to him?”
She boldly met my gaze. “It’s none of your business.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But I want to know anyway.”
“I’m marrying him because my father wants me to.”
I was confused. She, on the other hand, was impatient perhaps because she was uncomfortable. She shifted her weight to her other leg and folded her arms across her chest. Countless questions flashed through my brain in that moment, but I finally settled on one.
“Do you want to marry him?”
“I don’t care about marrying anybody,” she said. “I just want to write. So if getting married will allow me the stability to be able to do that and grant my father peace of mind, then I don't think it’s too much of a problem.”
I watched her closely. “What about the responsibility that it c
arries? It’s a life-long one. Does that not concern you?”
“I’ve always been concerned,” she said. “About everything and anything. Where has that gotten me so far? I’ll make my father happy, and I’ll keep my dream alive. That’s all I have asked from this life and I will hold on to it no matter what. Can I leave please?”
I stepped away from the door and she walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.
Chapter 10
CARSON
I walked straight to my room the moment I exited the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I leaned against it not even prescient of where I was, but with all my focus on why I had just so easily spit out all that I just said to Xander.
Perhaps it was because he would only be in my life for a short period of time, but whenever I was with him, I never held back and shared what would have been quite difficult if I were with anyone else. Being alone with him again, and in such a confined space took me back to our night together in the bathroom stall, and the regret I continued to nurse at not having the opportunity for one more time with him, rose up.
Somehow, I needed to get myself together, and his presence in my house out of my mind.
When evening arrived, I headed to my dad’s study with a cup of coffee in hand.
I found him watching the news, as usual, and placed the coffee on the table by his side. “Why don’t you watch a movie?” I asked him. “They’re much more engaging than the news and it will help relieve you of some stress.”
“I prefer this,” was all he said, so I pressed a kiss to his forehead. I was about to take my leave when he stopped me.
“Are your friends still around?”
“Yes, they are,” I replied.
“What of Xander Cage? Why did you end your relationship?”
I was surprised at the question, but I knew that he wasn't going to let it go so I thought up a risk-free answer. “Irreconcilable differences,”
“What do you mean?”
I opened my mouth but no words would come out, so I just shut it and gazed blankly at my father.
“Do you still care for him?” he asked.
“I do not,” I sternly replied. “He is just amongst the sphere of my friends.” I ended the conversation before it could go any further and headed downstairs to the living room where they all were preparing to leave.
“I’ll take Ida home to my parents,” Bethany announced. “They’ll love to see her.”
Ida smiled at her and then turned to me. “Can Xander and David stay here?”
“We’ll just get a hotel,” David answered. “We would hate to impose.”
I was immensely relieved at his suggestion, however, Xander spoke up. “I would be much more comfortable here, instead of a hotel.”
The room went quiet for a few moments and then I cleared my throat. “Sure, you and David can use Brian’s old room.”
♡
XANDER
I laid in bed later that night and thought deeply about what I was to do. Any decision I would take had to be immediate as we would be leaving the next day. I thought back to what Carson had told me and allowed myself to consider the direction that my heart had already begun to head toward from the moment I decided to come here.
I picked up my phone then and sent Carson a text.
Will you marry me? I asked. I will provide you with the stability that you want.
It seemed as though I waited forever, but soon there was a response. I almost couldn't breathe as I picked up the phone to read her response.
How dare you! it read. You fucking bastard.
I was confused. Why are you so upset? I asked. I waited for almost half an hour after that without a response, and then suddenly I heard her door click open. I instantly rose and exited the room.
I found her moving around in the kitchen. She had a kettle with her, but at my appearance in the shadows, she jumped from being frightened. I saw the water splash out from the spout, and at her shriek, I hurried up to her.
She was inspecting the reddening burn on her hand but at my attempt to do the same, she flinched away from me, and send me a furious glare. “Don’t touch me,” she spat. I watched quietly as she retrieved a mug from the rack by the corner and then began to pour the hot water into the cup.
“What exactly are you offended about?” I asked.
For the longest time, she didn't respond, but then eventually she straightened and turned to me. "Why do you think so highly of yourself?” she asked.
“In what way have I done that?”
“I can give you the stability you want? Because I told you the reason for my engagement with Benjamin doesn't mean that you can throw it in my face. Do I just marry anyone now because of stability?”
“I’m not just anyone,” I said, and she broke out in dry laughter.
Her eyes were twinkling. “Exactly. This is exactly what I am talking about. Why do you think so highly of yourself?”
“I’m not thinking highly of myself,” I replied. “I just have something that I can give to you in exchange for what you want.”
She stared at me. “Stability? You’re going to take care of me with your coffee shop salary?”
“I make more than enough to allow you the time to work on your writing without any concerns. Let’s be married for six months,” I said. “Or a year, whatever you want. You get the financial support that you need from me and in return, we’ll share a purely physical relationship.”
She gave an incredulous snicker. “And how does that separate me from a prostitute?”
“That is an insecurity for you to deal with, not me. Offering to make you my wife in in exchange for the proposed relationship is the utmost way I can show you my respect. Sentiments aside, if you are as attracted to me now as you were before, I don't see why you should give away to another what I can afford.”
“How much money do you have?” she asked.
“Enough,” I responded.
“Then why do you work in a coffee shop if you have enough to keep me stable?”
“That’s my choice.”
She glared at me and then proceeded to make herself a cup of hot chocolate.
“I need your answer,” I said to her. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied, “and that’s my choice.”
My hand shot out to grab her arm, and she tried to wrench it from my hold.
“Xander,” she called out, but I stared into her eyes, feeling despair engulf my chest. Don't walk away, my heart whispered, but I couldn't allow the words to fall from my mouth. So, I pulled her to me and crushed my lips to hers.
I was instantly hypnotized. Her taste was like a drug that woke up everything inside of me. My brain was running but I couldn't decipher a single reasonable thought, unadulterated lust weakening my very bones.
I held her tighter in my arms, unaware of her pounding against my chest as she tried to get me away from me. I bent with her, unwilling to let go of her lips until she bit down into mine. I drew briefly away at the sharp pain and tasted blood. Soothing the wound with the tip of my tongue, I gazed at her disheveled hair, panting chest, and swollen lips and took another step toward her.
“Don’t you dare!” she yelled as much as she could, without drawing her parent’s attention. She held a finger to me and lowered her gaze from mine to regain her breathing.
I took another step towards her, unable to control myself. She was driving me crazy and this time words fell from my lips. “You’re driving me crazy. Don't you feel this? It cannot be just me. How can you be so calm?”
“I have to be fucking calm!” she almost yelled, the fury bursting through her. “How else am I supposed to be? Every goddamn thing is on the line.”
“I will take care of you,” I swore to her. “Say yes.”
She stared at me as the tears fell from her eyes. She walked toward me and to my surprise struck a painful slap across my face. She did it again, and again, and each time I just watched her. By the
fourth time, however, I held her wrist and stopped her in mid-air.
“You might as well just kiss me,” I said. “Because it’s more painful than this.”
She grabbed me by the collar. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Just one more kiss,” I pleaded, as my gazed lowered down to her lips. I was unable to recognize myself.
“I’m getting married,” she said. “I belong to someone else. How dare you kiss me? How dare you make me…”
“Marry me,” I said, and took a step closer to her, “If you don't feel for him what you do for me then marry me. I have all the money in the world. More than you could ever need…”
“What money?” she shouted.
“Xander,” came heard a firm voice and we both turned around to see her father in the shadows. He was seated in his wheelchair and had been watching us and we hadn't even realized it. Carson immediately turned her face away, shame filling her, and she refused to turn back to either of us.
“Please return to your room,” he said. “I’d like to speak to my daughter alone.”
With a sigh, I took one look at her, gave a slight bow to her father and turned around to head back up the stairs.
♡
CARSON
After Xander left, the kitchen remained quiet. I could do nothing but stare at the linoleum tiles, and when there was still no sound I turned around to see my father still watching me.
I couldn't stand it anymore.
“I-I want to go to bed,” I said to him and he quietly rolled his wheelchair toward. I looked down at the three scarred and battered fingers that he used to control the chair and felt the tears fall from my eyes again. I was so ashamed of myself, in every single way.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, and I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes. In all my years while growing up, never had any of the reasons I had given him for shedding tears ever been acknowledged by him.
Damaged Love Page 50
