Never Again

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Why would you do that to me?” I wailed, pushing my fists against his chest, still wanting to get away while also craving the strength of those arms wrapped around me. “Why?” It was more than I could bear. I can’t…

  He pulled me closer, held me tighter, rocking me until I started to calm down. Then he placed his hands on either side of my face and lifted my head so I met his eyes. “The idea of you with any other man makes me insane. And seeing you with that guy tonight”—he shook his head—“it felt like someone shot an arrow of fire into my heart. I don’t know what’s going on between us, Cora, but I know it’s something I can’t walk away from. Judging by your reaction just now, I’m guessing it’s the same for you too.”

  Closing my eyes, I felt tears splash down my cheeks and onto my chest. But I nodded, because he was right. Fuck him. He was a bastard. But he was right. I couldn’t walk away, couldn’t even run. I was his. God, help me.

  17

  The cab ride to my place was silent. I couldn’t speak to him. Perhaps he couldn’t speak to me either. We’d both done things over the past few days that we couldn’t be proud of. The push and pull had become so intense that it detonated appallingly in a strip club’s private room. Now we somehow had to deal with that reality on top of the insanity of our bodies calling to each other. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.

  With a sigh that felt more like pain than breath, I rested my head on his shoulder. I needed to be close to him despite all the crazy. Why couldn’t I be more like Olivia? Or even Jack? It seemed they could take bed partners without it turning into something more. And it seemed neither of them ever had any regrets. How did one manage to live life like that? Was I incapable of being anything but a monogamous one-man, long-term relationship girl?

  Maybe I had an obsessive personality. That would make sense, would even explain the reason behind me waiting around for Jack all those years. But then, I’d never felt the way around him that I did with Brandon. If Jack had pulled the shit Brandon pulled tonight, I probably would have attacked him and run the other way. But with Bran, our connection was…more than I could explain.

  “We’re here.” Bran’s voice was gentle as he roused me from my thoughts and paid the driver. “Wait there.”

  Too tired to argue, I stayed put as he got out of the cab and walked around to open my door. The moment my feet hit concrete, he scooped me up into his arms and climbed the steps of my building.

  “You really don’t need to carry me,” I told him, little fight to my voice as my head rested against his chest.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, using my key fob to get through the main entry, heading straight for the lifts. “I’ve got a lot to make up for.”

  My hand tightened, holding on to the fabric against his chest as I buried my face deeper, tears falling as I inhaled that scent so indescribably his.

  “Who was she?” I whispered, the images of the smiling girl and the familiar way she touched him assaulting my mind.

  “She’s no one.”

  I lifted my head to watch his expression. “Did you date her?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck her?”

  It took a beat for him to answer, but I knew it would be in the affirmative based on the flicker of his eyes and the tension in his jaw. “Once.”

  “When?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t handle the way I was feeling. I felt broken and repaired with a meagre paste of flour and water. At any moment, I could fall apart and shatter completely. But the only thing stopping that from happening were his hands holding me together while I dried. I needed him to reassure me and tell me he wasn’t going to let go, drop me, destroy me. My heart couldn’t take it if it turned out he was lying to me too. I’d had enough of that with Jack.

  “A couple of months ago when I came back from Queensland.”

  “Did you pay her?”

  “No.”

  “Then why only once?”

  “She wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “What exactly do you want?”

  He stared at me for a long time. “You.”

  The intensity of his eyes and that single word brought tears to my eyes. “Then why did you do that to me?” My chest ached an impossible hurt. I’d been so angry with Jack when I found out he’d cheated, but even then, I hadn’t felt like this. This level of pain was something much deeper, like my soul had been torn and was bleeding pain.

  “Because I’m an arsehole who was losing his mind at the thought of not having you.”

  I dropped my head so it was once again resting against his chest while he opened my apartment door. “The idea of us is completely crazy. We’re crazy.”

  He carried me to my room and set me on my feet. “I’m not sorry for wanting you, Cora. But I am sorry for the way I treated you tonight.” His fingers worked down the zipper at my back, undressing me slowly. “Forgive me.” He laid me on the bed, climbing on top of me while teasing my body ever so gently. “I lost my mind.”

  “I hated you touching her.” My voice broke.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as his lips brushed along my jaw, kissing away my tears.

  “I hated that you let her.”

  “I’m sorry.” His hands slid over my curves, and I kept crying, clinging to him, begging him to make it up to me. To heal me.

  “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, when he slipped his fingers between my legs and brought me to climax. I cried while it happened, wanting him and hating him at the same time. It was a mess, a seriously fucked-up mess. I barely recognised myself.

  “Forgive me, baby,” he whispered when he pushed inside me, kissing me gently, his tongue making sweeping strokes as he moved his hips torturously slow. I clung to him, my emotions intensifying with each languid stroke. He played my body like a finely tuned instrument, bringing me to the brink again, coming with me when I shuddered around him. “Don’t turn me away.”

  His words hit me in the chest—vulnerability I hadn’t caught before. He seemed so sure of himself, so in control. But at the core of it, he was just like the rest of us—scared to be alone. Afraid of rejection.

  “Bran.” My hands lifted and ran through his hair, fingertips tracing over his features as he looked down at me, his eyes questioning and unsure while our bodies remained joined. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  “I’m sorry too,” I whispered, because I was. I was sorry for trying to ghost him. I was sorry for my lack of control. I was sorry for listening to the advice of others. I was sorry for existing within an obviously shitty marriage. I was glad it was over, but I was now sorry that Bran was left with such a mess because of it. The only thing I wasn’t sorry for was going home with him that night. Despite the complications it had caused, being with him was the only thing that felt right. He felt right.

  “I’ve been cheated on before,” I said into the dark, our bodies wrapped together in a tight cocoon after making love more than a couple of times. “I came home from work and they were fucking in my bed.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, the theme word of the night, as he pressed his lips against my bare shoulder.

  “At the time, I thought I’d never get over it. Then you happened and I experienced something so powerful that I stopped being sad. I stopped being angry. But now, with everything that’s happened in such a short time and the risks involved…I’m scared. Not only do you have the power to hurt me, somehow, you also have the power to completely destroy me.”

  He wrapped me tighter in his arms, releasing a long, pained sigh. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  Baby. I liked it when he called me that. It made me feel cared for, protected…

  “Would you have gone through with it? If I hadn’t yelled enough? Would you have let her—” I choked back a sob, unable to say the words.

  “No,” he whispered, his lips against my hair. “I couldn’t. She wasn’t you.” He rolled with me, cover
ing me with his body as he buried his face into my neck. “The way I feel about you, need you; it’s an insanity. It’s no excuse, I know, but it’s how I feel around you. I need you to forgive me.”

  With my arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers digging in hair, I drew a stuttered breath. “I can forgive you, Bran. Just promise me you’ll never do something like that again. I’m not blameless here. I treated you badly this past few days too. But no more using people against each other. No more getting mad and acting recklessly. Just because this feels crazy, doesn’t mean we have to be.”

  Pulling his head up from its resting place, he looked down at me. “I can promise not to use other people, Cora. But I can’t promise not to act crazy. I mean, this thing between us, it’s not normal, right? Nothing about this is normal.”

  I reached up and brushed my fingers through his silky hair. “Maybe we should both be committed?”

  He rolled off me, landing on his back with a soft thud, one arm still around me. “What happens if this feeling gets worse instead of better? How do we even begin to control something like that?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. But all relationships lose their intensity eventually. I suppose we just wait it out.”

  “And what happens if it never dies down?”

  “Then I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  I looked at him for a long time. Could I see this man becoming a part of my future? Could I handle feeling this sick with need long-term? And what would happen when I got old before him? Would he turn into every other man and start looking for the next pretty young thing? There were so many questions, none of which I had an answer to.

  “I don’t know, Bran. Maybe we’ll get better at handling it. Maybe we’ll just end up destroying each other. Either way, you scare the fuck out of me.”

  Lying beside me in the dark, I heard his breath moving in and out of his body. For a moment, I thought he was asleep. Until he turned to me and kissed me as though his very life depended on it. “For the record, Cora, you scare the shit out of me too.”

  18

  We spent the weekend in bed, spent every night after that too. At work, the archive room was avoided, and we did everything we could to behave normally. But there was a daytime tryst during lunch on Tuesday when a supply closet in a busy eatery offered too good a chance to be missed. Our appetites were insatiable.

  By the time Wednesday rolled around, he was all I could think about, knocking off work early to sneak in an on-campus visit. He’d walked out of his ethics class to find me leaning against the opposite wall, hunger burning in my eyes. I’d never seen a man so happy to see me.

  “Tell me you know of a dark corner somewhere,” I’d said after his mouth had finished his hello. He’d grinned, pushed those epic dimples into his cheeks, then dragged me down the hall and into an empty lecture hall where we fucked against the wall in the back corner.

  By the time we were done, he was late to his next class and I was late to my first marriage counselling appointment. But at least I arrived with a smile on my face.

  “Sorry I’m late. Crazy day,” I said, breezing in, still feeling Bran’s presence between my thighs.

  “I was just about to call,” Jack said, eyeing me carefully.

  “No need.” I smiled. “I’m here now.”

  The counsellor ushered us into his office where we were directed to sit on a mottled-grey couch.

  “As I’m sure you’re both aware, counselling can be a great way for couples to work through their troubles and find a new common ground that they can use to rebuild their relationship.” Our counsellor was a short, stout man, with a rather bulbous nose and squinty eyes. He kind of reminded me of Mr. Magoo. Actually, once I saw that similarity, I couldn’t get past it. A smile stayed glued to my face.

  “You seem happy to be here today, Cora. How about you let us know what you’re hoping to get out of our sessions.”

  That wiped the smile from my face. There was nothing like getting called out by the teacher on the first day to take the fun out of something.

  I looked at Jack, who seemed very serious, and nodded for me to give my answer.

  “Well…I um…I’m hoping to get some clarity.” Clarity. That was the nice way of expressing it. Having spent the last four nights with Bran, I was learning more about myself sexually, but also emotionally. I wanted Bran in so many ways, needed him. I had never needed Jack in that way. We had simply become…comfortable, used to each other. But at the time, I had no idea about this other level of feeling. When I was with Jack, I believed that was how long-term relationships were supposed to feel. It hurt that he hadn’t been fulfilled enough by me and what we had to stay true. Why wasn’t I enough for him? At what point did his respect for me decline to a point that he was comfortable bringing another woman into my bed? I felt overwhelmed and took a deep breath, ready to attempt putting my thoughts into words. “I suppose I want to understand what it was about me that wasn’t good enough for Jack. I also want to know exactly how long it had been going on for and how many affairs he had. Was he using protection with them? Or was he recklessly fucking them and me without a thought of spreading disease?” I knew I hadn’t caught any STDs from him—Olivia had made sure I got tested as soon as I found out he’d strayed—but I still wanted to know if he’d thought to protect me, or if he’d just been focused on pleasuring himself.

  “That’s quite a list.” Mr Magoo smiled, showing no teeth. Did he have any teeth? Odd. “I think we’ll also take the time to explore your anger issues. It’s my understanding that you have an intervention order in place with a proviso added to allow you to attend these sessions without penalty.”

  Whatever was left of my composure dropped completely as his words sunk in.

  “Excuse me?” I looked at Jack, my eyes wide in question. He lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck.

  “My attorney didn’t think it was a good idea to revoke it completely. Not until we knew if this was going to work out.”

  “You have an attorney?

  He had the decency to look sheepish as he nodded.

  “And the intervention order still stands?”

  He nodded slowly.

  I stood and shook my head, my anger levels rising. “You,” I blustered, searching for the word. “You arsehole!”

  “Now, calm down, Cora,” Mr. Magoo started, holding his hands up pleadingly.

  I turned my anger on him. “I will not calm down. This man lured me here with the promise that that order would be revoked. If he’s keeping it over my head, then I have no reason to be here.” Turning on my heel, I headed for the door.

  “These sessions are court ordered, Mrs Knowles. As an officer of the court, I’d have thought you understood that.”

  Stopping with my hand resting on the handle, I turned back around. “Former officer of the court. That intervention order has prohibited me from practising.”

  Mr. Magoo gestured for me to take a seat. “Then you have even more reason to be here. I’m not saying that you and your husband need to reconcile, but you need to attend and participate in these therapy sessions for me to make a recommendation to the court to get that order revoked early. You walk out that door and you’ll have to wait the entire twelve months.”

  Holding my chin up—tamping down the rage bristling beneath the surface—I returned to the couch and sat. Mr. Magoo smiled. “Perhaps we can continue by having you turn to your husband and tell him how you feel towards him right now.”

  That wasn’t going to be a problem. “Right now,” I said, looking Jack dead in the eye. “All I want from you is a divorce and to never have to see you again.”

  Jack’s mouth dropped open and Mr. Magoo jotted something down on his notepad. “And Jack, what about you?”

  “A divorce?” Jack ran after me when I stormed out of the office as soon as the hour was up. I’d barely spoken the whole time, feeling furious that once again, Jack was g
etting his way.

  “You’re the one with a lawyer, Jack.”

  “You don’t?”

  I spun around and faced him, my finger pointing in his face. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”

  “Come on,” he scoffed. “Your best friend is a barrister.”

  “She’s a Crown Prosecutor. Not a divorce attorney.” I took a few steps then stopped and turned back to face him. “I cannot believe I was stupid enough to fall for this, that I thought you would actually do something to help me.” I turned away again and growled. “I can’t even look at you right now.” Pacing back and forth, my fists tight by my sides, I tried to get a handle on my emotions.

  “Cor,” he started, using that tone of voice he always used when he belittled my feelings and told me I was acting crazy—that I didn’t understand a situation. I’d been so stupid for so long. Allowed him to pull the wool over my eyes and dazzle me with his charm. No more.

  “Don’t speak to me. I don’t want to hear your lies and bullshit. You can’t even answer a simple question without some sort of guarantee that you’ll get something out of it. How dare you treat me this way? You know how hard I worked to get where I was. You took that order out to purposely spite me for leaving you, and now you’re using it to manipulate me into giving you another chance. Here’s a newsflash for you, Jack. I will never give you another chance. You disgust me. I want a divorce. I want a divorce. I want a divorce!”

  Spinning on my heel, I stomped down the street, ignoring him calling my name. I’d wasted eleven years of my life on that man. I was done listening to him.

  19

  Sitting forward in the warm bath, I closed my eyes and hummed pleasurably as Bran’s nimble fingers massaged shampoo in my hair. He’d arrived not long after I got home from the counselling session, and helped me work out a lot of the frustration when I jumped him at the door. Still, I couldn’t stop the anger simmering under the surface. Jack was such a fucking bastard.

  I sighed, running my hands over the long legs that extended out either side of me. Never was I gladder of the fact my apartment had a large spa bath that could fit two people.