Full Circle

by Lynne, Donya

  “That’s Antonio,” Rob said under his breath.

  Antonio . . . Antonio? So familiar. Where had she heard—? Oooohhh! Carol’s Antonio. The man who’d helped send Mark into the pit of Hell eight years ago. The man who’d taken Carol from him.

  But what had Mark meant when he’d said he wasn’t supposed to be there?

  What was going on? Why did she suddenly feel like an outsider?

  * * *

  “I’m fine, Rob. Ease up.” Mark pushed Rob away and straightened his tux as best as he could in the thick sea of humanity. He hadn’t been expecting to see Antonio here tonight. Nor Carol. And if Antonio was here, Carol was sure to be nearby. “He just caught me off guard is all. I’m fine.” He took Karma’s hand again and tugged her toward the door. “Let’s go. We need to leave.”

  He continued scanning the crowd. He didn’t want to see Carol, and yet, he couldn’t not look for her. She was like a fatal car accident you couldn’t not look at, and he was rubbernecking like he couldn’t get enough of the bloody gore, even though he couldn’t see her yet.

  But his panic was about more than that. This week, he’d come to the realization he needed to see her again. To talk about what had happened between them once and for all. And the way his heart was racing this very second felt like a sign he was finally on the right track. This wasn’t so much panic in his chest as it was anticipation. Anticipation that he was on the verge of letting go so he and Karma could move forward.

  And yet there was still too much mental shit getting in the way. Like a rush of sewage from a busted pipe, he wanted to spill all. Right now. This second. That’s what seeing Antonio had unwittingly done to him.

  But that’s not how he’d planned this trip. Tonight was for Karma. Tomorrow was for Carol. And all the days after would be freedom. Except if he saw Carol right now, he might not be able to wait. Such was his eagerness to finally purge her from his system.

  He had to get out before he saw her.

  Without looking, he turned for the door, plowing into a woman carrying two glasses of champagne, her head turned toward a second woman gliding along beside her as if they were in deep conversation.

  Mark let go of Karma’s hand and captured the woman’s arms to keep her from falling, righting her so forcefully that he pulled her against his body.

  Champagne spilled down the front of her dress and his tuxedo, but that wasn’t what caused every hair on his body to stand on end.

  “Mark!”

  He stared down into Carol’s unmistakable blue eyes, unable to breathe, unable to think, completely stripped of the ability to speak.

  She’d cut her hair since the last time he’d seen her. She’d always had long hair. It barely hit her shoulders now. Why did he even notice that? Strange how the mind notices the oddest things when under tremendous duress.

  Finally, he found his voice. “Carol.”

  Karma gasped behind him. “Carol? This is Carol?”

  He was still holding her arms, their bodies closer than they’d been in eight years, touching. Her breasts crushed against his chest.

  He felt nothing. Not a hint of attraction. Not a glimmer of the affection he’d once felt for her. She was still beautiful, but he no longer loved her. His heart belonged to another now.

  Antonio burst through the crowd and shoved him away. “What are you doing, Mark? Leave her alone! Jesus!” He tore Mark’s hands from her arms.

  He stumbled back, confused, unable to decipher the battle of emotions raging inside him. How could someone he no longer loved still hold such power over him? He could fall in love with another woman and even ask her to marry him, but he couldn’t even talk about the wedding or set a goddamn date for the fear Carol had planted inside his heart. He wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t. And he wanted to hate Antonio, too, and yet, that emotion simply wasn’t there. What was there was a horrible, sinking dread that crawled through his veins, making his skin itch, making him want to scream for the fucking torment it caused.

  “Back off, Antonio,” Rob said, holding his arm out to keep Antonio away. “It was an accident. He ran into her and simply kept her from falling, that’s all.”

  “Mark?” Karma’s timid voice came from beside him, and he felt her hands wrap around his.

  He was scaring her. He didn’t mean to scare her. But what kind of man could he be for her when he was so fucked up in the head like this?

  “I’m sorry.” He glanced toward Antonio then at Carol. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t, uh . . .” He frowned, not sure what he intended to say. No words came. “I’m sorry,” he said again as he took Karma’s hand and headed for the door without another word.

  Chapter 28

  Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know.

  -Pema Chodron

  Karma had a death grip on Mark’s back.

  He surged over her like a man on a mission. His right arm extended past her face, his hand gripping the headboard for leverage as he pounded into her like he had something to prove.

  This wasn’t making love. And it wasn’t sex. It wasn’t even fucking.

  This was an exorcism.

  What he was doing to her wasn’t about pleasure. It wasn’t about sharing or indulging a fantasy. She was a vessel and nothing more. Right now, she sensed that Mark simply needed the physical exertion. The physical contact with someone he trusted. The emotional release that communing with her would bring.

  He whispered no tender words. He wouldn’t look her in the eye. In fact, he kept his eyes closed. Was he seeing his demons? Was he commanding them to leave his body with every robust thrust? Channeling them so that when he finally spent himself, and his muscles released, they would be cast out?

  Slamming his other hand into the pillow, a mangled groan broke from his throat as his pace quickened, becoming more brutal.

  All she could was hold him and let him use her. Some women might think that diminished their power. But not her. Whatever had happened tonight, Mark was hurting, but he had turned to her. Before he’d shut her out by closing his eyes, she’d seen his anguish and his plea. It was as if he hoped she could help him. But she hadn’t known how except to give him her body.

  And she was happy to do so. If this was what he needed, she would gladly give it.

  He growled, his body falling into orgasmic tremors even as he continued driving into her, grunting hard, his arms taut as he held himself away from her rather than collapse into her grasp.

  She was ready to welcome him against her, to feel him come back into himself and tuck his face against the side of her neck as he always did and wrap his arms around her and hold her like he would never let go. That was the Mark she knew. The one she expected to come back to her now that he was finished.

  But this Mark? She didn’t know him.

  As soon as his orgasm was over, he pulled out of her and left the bed. Before she could gather her wits, the bathroom door closed with an abrupt click. A moment later, the shower turned on.

  She sat up and stared numbly into the dark emptiness. What had just happened here?

  * * *

  Mark huddled on the floor of the shower, his hands over his face, silent sobs wracking his body.

  How could he have used Karma like that? He had never had sex with her without giving her an orgasm. Her pleasure was always first and foremost, but tonight, after returning to the room, he’d ripped that dress off her as if it had been a poisonous sheath.

  Then he’d pushed her onto the bed and fucked her like an animal. No passion. No tenderness. Just feral instinct.

  And he’d seen the way she’d looked at him. As if she didn’t recognize him. Like he was a stranger. And yet even that hadn’t stopped him. He’d closed his eyes and turned away. He couldn’t take her looking at him like that. Like she was on the verge of fear.

  He dropped his hands and tilted his head back against the cold tile, eyes closed.

  He was supposed to protect Karma.

  To love and prote
ct, wasn’t that how the vows went? See, he couldn’t even honor her the way a man should honor his woman. Even though they weren’t yet married, he should be able to at least cherish her in the way a wife deserved to be cherished, shouldn’t he? If he couldn’t, what was the point?

  This was the problem with marriage. Too many men couldn’t honor their vows. Maybe Carol had somehow known he wouldn’t be able to honor his, which was why she left. Why she ran off and found a man who would treat her better than he could. A man like Antonio.

  Antonio had come to Carol’s rescue tonight in a matter of seconds. He’d seen Mark too close to her, and he’d come to protect her the way Mark should have protected Karma.

  Antonio was a better man. He was the kind of man Carol deserved. The kind of man Karma deserved.

  His stomach churned with self-loathing the way it did every time he bumped into Carol. Seeing her always opened old wounds. Always made him see his failings. Reminded him of the life he’d once had but lost. And now it felt like he would never get it back.

  But the worst was what he’d done to Karma.

  Karma.

  She was out there, probably wondering what she’d done wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all him. All his fault.

  His stomach roiled.

  Damn it.

  He didn’t want . . . not this time . . . please . . .

  He lurched from the shower and fell in front of the toilet, clutching his stomach as he threw up what was left of his dinner.

  “Mark?” Karma knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

  He swallowed a gag and cleared his throat. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He scrunched his eyes closed and covered his mouth so she wouldn’t hear him sob.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded and took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes, just . . . dinner didn’t agree with me.”

  Silence.

  Of course, she wouldn’t believe him. She was a smart woman. She could see through his lie and knew why he was sick.

  He needed to pull himself together. Or at least as together as he could.

  After flushing the toilet, he finished his shower, brushed his teeth, then returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.

  The TV was on, turned to the local news. The newscaster was blathering about a double homicide on the Southside. Nothing new for Chicago.

  He felt Karma’s eyes on him as he pulled a pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt from his bag. He couldn’t even look at her. He couldn’t meet her eyes after what he’d done.

  “Are you okay?” She spoke cautiously, as if she feared his reaction.

  “Fine.” He tossed the towel aside, pulled on his pants, then sat on the bed as he put on the shirt.

  “I got you a Sprite from the vending machine. For your stomach.”

  He saw the bottle of soda on the table on his side of the bed, and guilt flooded him again. No way did she believe his stomach was upset from dinner, and yet she played along, allowing him to think she believed him. “Thanks.”

  Awkward silence stretched between them as he kept his back to her, unmoving, his mind racing down a dozen terrible paths.

  “Want to watch a movie?” Her voice betrayed her eagerness to right their ship so they could sail blissfully onward once more.

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “No.” This was one time the ship would remain capsized.

  “Okay,” she said quietly, obviously disappointed.

  He should apologize. He should turn around and look at her. Hold her. Tell her everything was okay.

  But he couldn’t. Right now, he couldn’t bear to see the scared, wary look in her eyes. The same look Carol had given him when he’d found her fucking Antonio when she was supposed to be marrying him. The same look she’d given him tonight when he’d grabbed her arms to keep her from falling. He didn’t want to see that look in Karma’s eyes, because that would make everything far too real.

  Instead, he lifted the covers and climbed underneath, on his side, facing away from her.

  “I’m going to cancel my visit with Holly tomorrow,” she said quietly. “So we can head home early.”

  “That’s fine.”

  He couldn’t see Carol, anyway. Not after what had just happened. He wasn’t ready. His reaction tonight proved that.

  The TV clicked off, and Karma lay down behind him. A moment later, her hand pressed against his back. Warm and compassionate. Loving.

  And all wrong, because he didn’t deserve her love.

  “Karma, don’t . . .”

  “Mark . . . ?”

  He stiffened as her palm caressed up to his shoulder. “I don’t want to be touched right now, Karma. Please.” The sad part was, he did want to be touched, but he couldn’t stand the thought that the poison flowing through his veins might be contagious. Karma didn’t need to absorb any of that. He’d already done enough damage.

  Her hand abruptly stopped, and a moment later she removed it as she sighed. “I’m sorry. I just . . .”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “I know, I—”

  “Karma, please.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Okay.” Her voice sounded choked. As choked as his heart felt.

  But what she did next nearly undid him. Nearly made him break all the way down to his marrow.

  She leaned toward him and pressed her lips to the back of his shoulder. Warm and pure and sweet. Such a simple kiss, but overflowing with love. Love he hadn’t earned.

  “I love you,” she whispered. Then she rolled away from him and settled herself under the covers on her side of the bed.

  Mark’s silent tears fell to his pillow.

  He was blowing it. He was losing everything he ever wanted all over again.

  Chapter 29

  Some steps need to be taken alone. It’s the only way to really figure out where you need to be.

  -Mandy Hale

  Karma pulled her damp hair into a ponytail and gathered her things from the bathroom. In the bedroom, Mark still sat in the chair by the window where she’d left him to take her shower. His head was back, eyes closed.

  She had barely slept last night, but she might have gotten at least an hour or two. Mark was lucky if he’d slept at all. Every time she woke up, he was either sitting on the edge of the bed, standing by the window, staring out at the lights of Chicago, shoulders shaking as he silently cried, or in the bathroom throwing up. He’d vomited at least three times.

  Whatever memories Carol and Antonio had stirred to life, they were eating him alive.

  The only other time she’d seen Mark like this was when his assignment at Solar ended and their affair was over. But whatever was happening now was ten times worse, and she didn’t want to think about why.

  She also didn’t know what to say to make it better. She knew that seeing Carol and Antonio was the reason for his breakdown, but from everything he’d told her about how seeing her used to affect him, it had never been this bad. The night they’d met, for example. Hadn’t Mark told her he’d seen Carol that night? That he’d gone to his room, thrown up, and then returned to the party relatively unscathed? Then he’d made his move on her at the blackjack table, and the rest was history.

  So, why this severe breakdown? What was it about this time that made seeing Carol so intensely distressing?

  “I got you some peanut butter crackers and another Sprite.” She set them on the table beside him.

  His head jerked away from the back cushion, his bloodshot eyes opening a sliver. “What? Oh . . . thanks.” He sat forward and twisted off the cap, and the spitting hiss of carbonation broke the air.

  He sipped his soda and nibbled a cracker while she finished packing. Then she sat down across from him, ignoring the much-too-cheerful newscasters.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He averted his gaze, glancing out the window instead of at her.

  The wall was going up around him again. The wall she’d
broken through two summers ago. That damn thing was back, all because of one ill-timed run-in with Carol.

  “I was worried last night.”

  He plunked the soda bottle on the table. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Worry about me.”

  “But . . .”

  “Karma, I’m not worth it.” He got up and marched to his bags on the bed.

  Anger straightened her back. “Excuse me?” She stood and faced him. “You’re not worth it? What the hell, Mark?”

  He fisted the fabric of his bag. “What I did . . . last night . . .” For the first time since they left the benefit, he looked her in the eye. The pain radiating from his gaze stole her breath. “To you, Karma. What I did to you last night never should have happened. How can you stand to be near me right now?”

  So that’s what this was about? Last night.

  The exorcism.

  What did he think? That he’d hurt her? That she hadn’t wanted to give herself to him when he needed her? That was what people who loved each other did. It didn’t always have to be perfect. Sometimes love was ugly, and that was okay, as long as love was still at the heart of everything they did.

  She found her voice as he looked away again. “That was my choice, Mark.”

  “What? To be used and tossed aside like you meant nothing?” He slammed his bag against the mattress. “You didn’t choose that. I took it from you.”

  “You didn’t take anything from me! I willingly gave it!”

  His head whipped around. “Why? Why would you do something like that for someone like me?”

  He was talking to her as if they were more like strangers than an engaged couple, which was really starting to piss her off. The fact she hadn’t gotten much sleep didn’t help.

  “For someone like you?” she said with irritation, planting her hands on her hips. “First of all, someone like you is the man I’m in love with, and I think he deserves everything I can give him, especially when he’s been through hell. So quit insulting him, because it’s kind of like insulting me.” She crossed her arms. “Second of all, I gave myself to you willingly because I love you. Because last night you needed something different. And sometimes I simply want to be here for you to give you what you need for a change instead of you always giving me what I need.” She dropped her hands to her sides, the sleepless night messing with her brain, mixing everything up. “Ever since Christmas, you keep telling me you’re not good enough, and I keep telling you that you are. It’s like you don’t want to believe me.”