by Gia Riley
As scary as ruining a friendship may be, it’s not enough to stop us. We keep going because nothing feels more right in this moment than being together—consequences be damned.
Garrett’s the perfect combination of rough and gentle. Every sting of pain is followed by even more pleasure. And when I think I can’t take another second of the sweet torture, he makes me crave what’s coming next.
“Shit, Megs. You taste so good,” he says, as he fights to catch his breath.
His words give me more confidence, and before I can think too much about it, I’m tugging on his drawstring, loosening his pajama bottoms until they fall away from his hips. If he was standing, they’d be on the floor around his feet.
Garrett’s hands slide under my sleep shirt, and he only stops to palm my breasts, one in each hand, before pulling my top up and over my head.
A quick toss on the floor and he’s back on me, this time his hands on my ass, squeezing until my back arches off the bed. He’s challenging my senses to decide if I like it or not. But I don’t like it, I love it.
“Tell me I can have you, Megan.”
I nod, giving him permission before he even finishes his sentence. I’ve never begged before, but I’d do it for Garrett. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this wanted—this needed. Like if I don’t have him right now, I won’t be able to find my next breath.
And I never want this feeling to disappear.
But Garrett needs more than body language, when he tells me, “I need to hear you say the words.”
“You can have me, Garrett. I can’t promise you forever, but tonight, you can have as much of me as you want.” His body tenses, like he’s happy he’s getting what he wants, but he’s conflicted because he wants more than I’m able to give.
“We’ll work on the forever part,” he says as he kisses me gently on my forehead, and then on the tip of my nose.
The antique grandfather clock at the end of the hallway chimes along with the beating of his heart. It’s midnight. “Merry Christmas, Megs,” he says, as he slides inside of me. “This body is the best damn gift I’ve ever been given.”
With his sweet words and gentle touches, we easily find our rhythm and savor our connection. “Merry Christmas, Garrett.”
We don’t have tomorrow figured out let alone the future, but with this amazing man by my side, I have a fighting chance. And I’ve never been more excited to stay awhile.
Megan
EVEN THOUGH I BARELY SLEPT, I’m more content than I’ve been in months. After dozing off in Garrett’s arms and waking up with my face pressed against his chest, I realize how much I miss this connection and being wrapped up in a man’s arms.
I should have known better than to let myself get too comfortable. Because as soon as I unlock my phone, I wish I had never touched it. My heart skips a beat when I see several missed calls from Connor, along with a slew of unread texts.
Sitting up in bed, my hands shake when I open the first one.
Connor: Where are you?
It’s simple enough and not at all threatening, so I move on to the next one.
Sent exactly an hour after the first, I’m okay with this one, too.
Connor: I want to see Laney.
Does he deserve to see his daughter after what he did? No. And I have no intention of letting him near her unless the court forces me to.
The next text is a repeat of the first, but the fourth one makes me pause.
Connor: You can’t hide from me, Megan. I will hunt you down if I have to.
I read the words like he’s speaking to me, his voice in my ears and his tone not at all pleasant. If he was standing in front of me, he’d be clenching his fists and raising his voice, making sure I understood how angry he was with me.
If he knew where we were, he’d have come here by now, and that’s the only reason I’m still breathing. But the thought of him breaking into Garrett’s house in the middle of the night, and taking Laney from me, that’s enough to make me panic.
I glance at Garrett lying next to me and wrap the sheet around my body. With as little movement as possible, I slide out of his bed, careful not to wake him.
Up until now, I had plans to wake him with a special Christmas breakfast, and hopefully some more kisses, too. But as I rush down the hall toward Laney’s room, I say a silent prayer she’ll still be in her bed when I get there.
I almost slip and lose my balance on the hardwood floor in the hallway, and even though her door squeaks, I push it open. Laney’s still passed out in her bed, right where she belongs.
The reality of what could have happened slams into me, and I hurry into the bathroom in case I need to cry.
If Connor’s out of jail, this is going to be my new reality. I won’t have the protection of him being locked away, and I won’t have any peace of mind that he’ll leave us alone. The fantasy world Garrett created for us no longer exists.
I think back to last night and how Garrett made me feel like he was the only man who existed—and like I was the only woman in the world for him. While it was never my intention to start something new with Garrett so soon, it happened. But now that I know Connor was trying to call me while I was making love to Garrett, it suddenly feels dirty. Like Connor knew what we were doing, and he was trying to stop us.
With Garrett still on my skin and Connor’s messages forcing their way into my mind at the same time, all I can do is turn the shower on as hot as I can stand it, wishing Connor and his mistakes would go away. Because at some point, I’ll have to reply to him, and I’m terrified of what he’ll say let alone what he’ll do when he finds out we’re not coming home.
I’ve never not been his before.
My wrinkled fingers and reddened skin are the only indication I’ve been standing under the spray for too long. If it was summer, people would think I was sunburned, that’s how red I am.
Before it can get any worse, the water shuts off and a warm towel wraps around my shoulders. Garrett picks me up and sets me on the shaggy carpet in front of the shower, my toes nestling in the softness.
He kisses a water droplet off my cheek and another from my forehead. He’s taking care of me, and back to being the sweet version of the man who dominated me in bed last night, making me feel cherished and wanted in ways I never knew I’d like.
“Thank you,” I whisper, silently hoping he’ll replace my worries with his mouth.
Instead of trying to take more of me, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Suddenly, I feel completely naked, like the towel wrapped around me doesn’t exist.
With defeat written all over his face, he assumes the worst of me, and I hate it. “You regret me, don’t you?” he asks.
Regret is such a strong word, one I would never use to describe Garrett.
Now Connor, that’s a different story. I regret putting so much faith in a man who was destined to hurt me. Someone who so easily played me and went to great lengths to make sure I never found out. But I do know the truth now, and I hate that he saw me as the kind of girl he could run around on. That’s why it’s easy for me to tell Garrett, “I don’t regret you at all.”
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that, Megan. When I woke up and the bed was empty, I thought you got scared and left.”
The reason I was scared had nothing to do with Garrett. He’s the one I wanted to stay with. He’s the one who makes me believe I deserve more. “I trust you, Garrett. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”
“I do believe you, Megs. I’m just scared you’ll change your mind or feel like you have to go back to the way things were because it’s easier for Laney.”
“I’m not going back. Whether you and I work out or not, I’ll never go back to Connor.”
He leans his forehead against mine and breathes me in. “If you’re staying, then why did you get up so early? Why were you in such a hurry to get away from me?”
“It wasn’t like that at all, Garrett.”
/>
“What was it like then? Because all I wanted was to wake up next to you. Then we would have showered together and I would have pressed you against the wall and shown you how hard it is for me to go without you now that I’ve had you.”
Instead of trying to explain myself with words, I hand Garrett my phone, showing him exactly what I woke up to this morning, and why I couldn’t stay in bed with him.
“It’s happening,” I tell him.
As he connects the dots and reads each text message, he makes sense of it all. “Connor’s back.”
“He’s back.”
Garrett keeps scrolling through the texts, his expression hardening with each idle threat he reads. “Is he serious? This is how he’s going to try to talk to you after all the shit he’s done?”
“The only reason I got out of bed so early was because I thought Laney was gone. I don’t know why my mind went there, because Connor has no idea where we are. I guess I didn’t realize how scared I was until he messaged me.”
All business, Garrett hands my phone back to me and says, “I want you to show me every text he sends you. I want your sister to see them, too. You’re not doing anything without a lawyer present. Let Connor think you’re at a hotel, because the less he knows the better.”
Before I can tell Garrett I agree, my phone vibrates with another text from Connor. This one is the worst of them all, and the open ended threat scares me the most.
Connor: You have an hour to get here.
Garrett reads it over my shoulder the same time I do, and I can hear him grinding his teeth together.
“I can’t believe he’s really trying to ruin Laney’s morning. It’s Christmas for fucks sake. He’s delusional if he thinks I’m going to come running the second he decides to speak to me.” Garrett takes the phone out of my hand and picks me up, setting me on the counter next to the sink. He grabs a washcloth from the cabinet, and soaks it under the warm water.
Running the soft fabric under each of my eyes, it only makes them well up with tears faster. “Just breathe, Megs. I know you’re scared, but I’m never going to let anything happen to you.”
I swallow over and over until the burn in the back of my throat stops choking me. It doesn’t completely go away, but I don’t expect it to.
“What do you need?” Garrett asks like it’s killing him that he can’t make all my problems disappear.
He’s not going to like this, especially because I just said I wasn’t going to run to Connor, but I have no choice. “Can you watch Laney for me? I have to go—in case he does know where we are.”
“What good will it do?”
“It’ll keep him from searching for us. And maybe if I talk to him, he’ll see where my head is at and back off a little bit.”
Garrett flattens his palms on either side of my thighs and looks me straight in the eyes. “Of course I’ll stay with Laney, but you’re not going into that house by yourself.”
“I’m not going to. Not after the messages he sent. I’ll call Vanessa and tell her to pick me up.”
“I don’t like this, Megan. Nothing about this is safe or smart.”
“Garrett, I have to. The sooner I can get this over with, the sooner we can try to salvage this day. I can’t let him ruin Christmas.”
He must like the sound of that, because he nods his head, accepting my decision. “You two show up together and you leave together. I don’t care if he wants to talk to you alone or not. Vanessa stays. Don’t let him back you into a corner.”
Connor’s never laid a hand on me, and I don’t think he would. But if he does find out where I am and who I’m with, I feel like he’s capable of anything. I just pray he hasn’t already figured it out, because if he has, I’m walking into the lion’s den without any protection.
Megan
“ARE YOU READY TO DO this?” Vanessa asks as we drive across town.
Even though the heat’s on full blast, pointed directly at me, I’m still freezing. “I’ll never be ready to face him,” I tell her. “Not after what he’s done.”
Most normal people are at home, waking up with their families and watching their kids’ faces light up as they tear open presents. Here I am, going to face a complete asshole, wondering if I should even bother to ask him why he did it. Because does it really matter why if it still hurts just as much in the end? I don’t think so.
Vanessa pulls in front of my house, the place I’ve called home for most of my adult life. It taunts me from the sidewalk.
The bushes are frosty like Connor’s heart, and the welcome sign on the door mocks me, especially after Connor welcomed another woman inside.
I debate knocking, but the door flies open before I have a chance. Connor’s dress shirt is only half buttoned, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jeans are hanging from his hips like he may have lost some weight since I last saw him. And the whites of his eyes are a little red, probably from the lack of sleep.
But when my eyes land on the cuts around his eye and the stitched up gash on his forehead, I almost feel sorry for him.
“Where the fuck is Laney?” he bellows loud enough for the whole block to hear even though I’m standing right in front of him.
Vanessa pushes past me, not the least bit intimated by his tone. “She’s asleep, Connor. Like the rest of the world.”
I follow her inside, looking around at my things like they belong to someone else.
Before my weekend away, Laney and Connor helped me paint the walls in the living room a color that matched the new couches. It was a labor of love that we stayed up way past Laney’s bedtime to complete, just so it would be finished by Christmas.
I cared about every detail, every accent pillow, every trinket, and every picture hung on the wall. I figured if the house looked the part, then I’d feel like everything was okay—and all of our problems would get better.
Now, all the time and attention I put into each special touch makes me cringe. I’ve been sleepwalking in a fantasy world, using objects to cover up the missing pieces in our relationship. All I’m left with are a bunch of meaningless things I never want to see again, including him.
Connor comes up behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders. I’m too afraid to turn around and look at him, so I don’t move.
“You’re mad at me,” he says. “I deserve it, but I can explain everything, Megan. It was an accident. You have to believe me.”
Maybe it’s the way he says accident, but it rubs me the wrong way. You don’t accidently make plans with another woman, and you don’t accidentally drink too much and get behind the wheel. They’re both decisions you make—things you choose.
When I can’t take the silence or him breathing on the back of my neck anymore, I finally turn around, ready to go to battle.
He could be sorry for driving drunk and for hurting our daughter, but when it comes to the other woman, I get the impression he’s only sorry he got caught.
It’s killing him that he can’t figure out how much I already know and which of his secrets are still safe.
“Megan,” he says again, waiting for me to say something.
I used to love the way he would draw out the syllables of my name when he was inside me. The way his voice would get stuck on the pleasure and then start again like he was saying two separate words, punctuating each with a thrust of his hips. It made me want him even more—because I felt so powerful.
I don’t feel that way anymore.
When I glance at his eyes, I expect to see the anger I heard when he opened the door. It’s been replaced with a softer expression, and his eyes are practically begging me to listen to him—to believe him. But I’m not about to be fooled or played again.
He glances at my ring finger, and his whole body stiffens when he sees the ring he gave me is gone.
Did he really expect me to keep it on?
Probably.
I help him out when I reach for his left hand. He gives it to me, assuming I want to hold it, but I wrap my fing
ers around his wedding band, and slide it off before placing it in his open palm.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a shaky breath.
“Ending a lie,” I tell him, as my throat starts to burn again.
It hurts so much to touch him, and for the first time I realize how little I know about the man he’s become. The teenager, I knew him well. But time passed us by and somewhere between now and then, Connor veered off course, taking me with him when he made stupid choice after stupid choice.
“We’re still married, Megan,” he pleads. “Removing a ring doesn’t change that.”
The fact he’s going to keep up this ridiculous charade, even after I took off his ring, makes something inside me snap. “We were never fucking married,” I scream at him. “You’re a liar, Connor! A liar!”
He flinches when my fists pound against his chest, but he doesn’t back up—not even when the spit from my mouth lands on his cheek.
With his chest rising and falling faster, he grips my wrists and holds them still. “Baby, stop it.”
I try to rip my arms from his grasp before he says something that will only make me angrier, but he won’t let go of me. “You do know, Connor. You know everything, and you have for years. I’m the only one who has been in the dark. But I see it all now. I see you, Connor. And you make me so fucking sick.”
His eyes close slowly and he drops my wrists from his grasp. He runs his hands through his hair, clasping them behind his head.
I let him pace in circles, hoping he’s absorbing my words so they’re finally sinking in to his thick skull. He has to understand what he’s done isn’t okay. It will never be okay to treat me the way he has. And he has to see my heart is breaking.
But that’s the problem with keeping secrets, they’ll eventually catch up to you, and they’ll ruin any chance you thought you had at happiness.
Finally, he stops pacing and lets his arms hang by his sides in defeat. “I didn’t do it to hurt you, Meg. I was trying to protect you. To protect us.”
