Keeping Her
Page 17
"Everything. The things I do. The things I say. How I act. Who I claim to be friends with. It's all a lie. And it's all I know. I've lied for so long that sometimes I don't even know the truth from a lie. It all blurs together."
I remain quiet because I want him to keep opening up to me. I need to know what got him to this point, why he felt he had to lie.
"I think you already know this but I'm going to say it again because I need you to know how much you mean to me, and how much of an influence you've had on me." He pauses. "I hated my life before you came along. I was a hollow shell of a man. I had work and nothing else. I came home to an empty loft. I had no one in my life who even cared I existed. I, myself, didn't care if I was dead or alive. I felt dead inside, so I might as well have been dead."
I rub his hand. "Pearce, don't say that."
"It's true. I had nothing. I didn't even know who the real Pearce Kensington was. Growing up, I had to be the person my father expected me to be. I tried to overcome that and express myself, be my own person, but he wouldn't allow it. He beat me down to the point that I gave up trying to figure out who I was and just did what he told me to do. I was living a lie. Being someone else, just so my father would leave me alone." He looks at me. "I still do that, Rachel. I pretend to be someone else. Not just because of my father, but because of the world that I'm part of. The part that I tried to keep you out of when we were dating. Everyone in that world lies. Just think about the people you've met so far. Royce. Victoria. My parents. They don't seem genuine, do they?"
I shake my head. "No."
"That's because they're putting on an act. Royce and Victoria pretend they're in love when in reality they don't even like each other. Or consider my parents. My father hates pretty much everyone, but he still goes to parties and acts like those people are his best friends. It's the same way for everyone I know. They all live a lie. And I do the same."
"No, you don't."
"I do. When I'm around those people, living that side of my life, it's all a lie." He takes my hand. "I'm only myself when I'm with you."
"You can be yourself with other people besides me."
"It doesn't work that way." He glances down at our joined hands. "Since meeting you, I feel like I've been living a double life. One is good and the other is bad. And I will always have to live this way." He looks up again, his eyes on mine. "But it's better than what I had before. At least now, because of you, I can spend most of my life on this side. The good side."
After being exposed to his friends and his family, I understand what he means when he said he feels like he's living a double life. His life with me is so different than the side of his life that includes people like Royce and Victoria. And he does seem to become someone else when he's around those people.
"Rachel." Pearce squeezes my hand to get my attention. "I would never intentionally try to hurt you. I told you those things because I thought I was protecting you. And because…I was so afraid of losing you. That's what I fear more than anything." His hand lifts to my face and he cups my cheek. "Please say we can work this out. I love you, Rachel. And I need you in my life. We need each other. So please don't end this."
I need to think about all that he told me tonight. But would thinking about it change how I feel about him? Would I love him any less?
That's something I don't need to think about. I already know the answer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
15
PEARCE
"Rachel?" My heart pounds as I wait for her to respond.
"I'm not ending this, Pearce. I love you, and I want to be married to you."
I exhale and my shoulders relax. "Good. Because I wasn't going to accept any other answer."
She smiles. "Then why did you ask?"
"Because I needed to know how you felt about us. But if you'd answered differently, I wasn't going to let you go. I wasn't going to give up on us, Rachel. I'll always fight for us. And I'm never letting us be separated for this long again. If we're arguing and you need a break from me, I'll stay in the guest room. But we're going to remain under the same roof. You're my wife and I love you and we need to be together, even if you're angry at me."
"I don't like being angry at you. Or being apart from you. But in order for this to work, I have to be able to trust you. Which means you need to stop lying to me. You don't need to protect me from the truth. Even if I don't like it, I'd much rather have the truth than a lie."
I nod, but don't say anything. She wants me to tell her I'll never lie to her again, but saying that would just be another lie. There are so many things I can't tell her. And even if I could, would I really want her to know?
"When I found out you lied to me," she says, "it hurt me. It hurt me a lot, and I don't want to feel that way again."
It nearly kills me to know how much I hurt her. I never wanted that to happen, and yet deep-down, I knew it would. I knew someday, she'd eventually catch me in my lies and this would all come crashing down. I wanted to avoid that, or at least put it off as long as possible, but that didn't happen and now here we are.
This past week has been pure hell. I kept calling her and coming over here, begging her to talk to me, but she wouldn't. After a few days, when she refused to have any kind of contact with me, I thought it was the end. I thought she was telling me that she was done. That our marriage was over.
But I couldn't accept that. I wasn't giving up. I wasn't letting my father win. So I spent all of last week trying to figure out what to do. How to get her back. Flowers wouldn't do it this time. An apology wasn't enough either. The only way to get her back was to be as honest as I could. I know I lied to her tonight, but a lot of what I said was true. I am living a double life and I was taught to lie. Lying comes more naturally to me than telling the truth. When you can't trust people, you can't be honest with them so you become a good liar, and over the years, I've perfected it. And I will use those skills to hide the Dunamis part of my life from Rachel. But those are the only lies I will tell her.
I hold her face in my hands and look her in the eye. "I am so sorry I hurt you." I hold her gaze, letting her see my eyes, because my eyes always tell the truth. They tell how I'm feeling, and she knows that. So when she looks at them, I hope she can see how very sorry I am and how I would do anything to take away the pain I have caused her this past week.
"Just don't do it again." Her lips turn up just slightly. It means she's forgiven me, or at least is starting to.
"I love you." I kiss her forehead. "And I promise you, I will get better at this."
She smiles. "Better at what?"
"Being in a relationship. Knowing what to do. This is the first real relationship I've ever had, and obviously I have a lot to learn."
"I'm not very good at them either. I run at the first sign of trouble."
"No more running. This apartment is off limits." I glance at the peeling paint on the walls. "Actually, it should be condemned."
She laughs. "It's not that bad. But yes, I'm done running. I want to go home."
At least she's finally calling my loft 'home.' I know she feels like it's not really hers, but for now it's her home. Her home is with me.
"Pack your things and let's get out of here." I bring her face to mine and kiss her. "We have a lot of making up to do."
I start to back away, but she pulls me in for a hug. I hug her back, tightly, but not too tight, just like she taught me.
"I've missed this," she whispers.
I kiss her head. "You have no idea how much I've missed this."
We stay in the hug a few moments longer, then she goes to the bedroom to pack her bag. "Pearce?"
I go in the bedroom. "Yes?"
"Right before you got here, Logan came by and told me Shelby's dad died."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. When is the funeral?"
"On Monday. Shelby will be at her mom's house tomorrow and he suggested we stop by and see her. I told him I would. Will you be coming too?"
"Of co
urse I will." I walk over to the dresser where she's standing, and put my arms around her waist. "Rachel, this fight of ours is over. Don't act like we're not a couple."
"I didn't mean it that way. I just wasn't sure if you'd want to go."
"I'm going." I kiss her forehead.
She nods. "I feel so bad for Shelby. It's so hard to lose someone, and she was so close to her dad."
Rachel needs to end this friendship she has with Shelby. She can't be friends with an associate. If anyone from the organization saw the two of them together, it would not be good. I'd probably be punished for it. They would be angry and disgusted that Pearce Kensington's wife is friends with a whore. I shouldn't refer to Shelby that way, but in the eyes of the members, that's what she is, so she is not an appropriate friend for my wife.
"It's good she has Logan," Rachel says. "He's there now, and will probably stay there until after the funeral."
"Are the two of them becoming more serious?"
"I asked Logan that when he was here. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did. He said that he wants to be more serious with her but that she doesn't want that. Shelby really likes him so I don't know why she doesn't want to get more involved with him."
I know why, but I can't tell Rachel. It's yet another secret I have to keep. Shelby needs to break up with Logan and not let this continue. He's already fallen hard for her and it's not fair for her to keep stringing him along, knowing she can't be with him.
Now I sound just like Shelby when she was telling me to stay away from Rachel. But Rachel and I were able to make it work. Shelby and Logan can't. Associates can't have serious relationships while they're actively working for us. There's no rule forbidding it, but it would never work. If an associate falls in love with a man, she won't want to have sex with other men. Even if she was willing to do so, the man she's with would end things once he found out. And my fellow members would make sure he found out. They need the associates to stay committed to the job. They know too much. They're in this for life. So Shelby needs to end her relationship with Logan. The two of them will never be able to be together.
Rachel and I go back to the loft and I finally feel like it's home again. When she wasn't here, it felt like just a big empty space. Rachel is what makes it a home, and I'm never letting her take off like that again. The next time we argue, we'll be doing it here. At home. Together.
"How's the water temperature?" I ask as I join her in the shower. I warmed it up for her before she got in.
"Perfect," she says, closing her eyes as the water cascades over her skin.
I take a moment to look at her. Her long, lean legs. Her hourglass curves. Her soft full breasts. Just the sight of her has me fully aroused.
Her eyes are still closed as I reach around her waist and draw her into me so that her body is pressed against mine.
Her lips curve into a smile. "I'm glad you suggested a shower. This feels really good."
"Turn around," I whisper in her ear. "And keep your eyes shut."
She does as I say, turning away from me as my arms remain around her waist, keeping her close. She leans her head back on my chest, and I watch as the water streams over her body. My hand is at her waist, and I slowly slide it up her ribcage to her breast, cupping it as my thumb skims over her nipple.
She lets out a breathy moan and pushes back into me, circling her hips, rubbing against the length of me.
It nearly sends me over the edge. It's been almost a week since I've been with her and I'm desperate to be inside her, but it's not time yet. I don't want to rush this. I want to look at her, feel her, kiss her, touch her. And then be inside her.
I reach up and get her shampoo and pour some in my hand, then turn her slightly so her head's not directly under the water as I gently massage the shampoo into her scalp.
She smiles, keeping her eyes shut. "That feels good."
After a few minutes, I lead her into the water again, being careful to keep the shampoo out of her eyes as it rinses away. I fill my hand with liquid soap, then tug her back against my chest and run my soapy hands along her slick skin, over her curves, between her legs. She moans again, her head collapsing to the side as I kiss her shoulder.
"I love you," I breathe into her ear.
She shivers from the warmth of my breath. "I love you too."
"I would do anything for you," I tell her, my voice soft.
She slowly nods. "I know you would."
I kiss her wet skin, just below her ear and whisper, "Please forgive me."
She turns to me. "I already have." Her eyes are open now and fixed on mine. She reaches up and puts her hand on my face. "I missed you. In so many ways."
I know what she means. I missed her so much, my body literally ached for her. I ached to hear her voice again. To feel her body against mine as I slept. To feel her presence in the loft, rather than the dark emptiness it is without her.
I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her palm as I look at her. Then I release her hand and hold her face and kiss her. God, it feels good to kiss her. To feel her breath, her lips. It ignites the searing desire that has permeated the air around us since the moment she finally opened the door for me at her apartment. There's this heat, this attraction, this energy between us that was there from the first day we met. And when we're not together, it builds up, and now, it feels ready to explode.
Urgent kisses replace the soft gentle ones I gave her earlier and I lift her up and against the wall. I push inside her and we both breathe out at the feel of it. The relief of being together this way again. I'm convinced we were made for each other. Our bodies fit together perfectly. We both know it because we both feel it. Every single time we do this, we feel it.
"Pearce," she whispers, her arms around my neck, her hand gripping my hair as I move in and out. "Oh, God. Don't stop."
She's close. So close. I thrust into her until she gets her release. Mine hits me soon after. And then I set her down and kiss her, and our mouths remain joined for several minutes as the warm water runs over us.
"Let's go to bed," I say against her lips.
She nods, still kissing me, like she can't get enough.
I shut off the water. After we towel off, I take her to our bed and we lie there under the covers. I inhale a deep breath, filling my lungs with air, noticing the tightness is gone. Holding Rachel in my arms, I finally feel relaxed again. And at peace.
This past week, I realized even more how much I need her. Before she came into my life, I didn't know what I was missing. But then she showed me how much better my life could be, and now I can't go back to how it was before.
That's all because of her. She's the one who makes me feel this way and I can't fathom my life without her. It scares me that she has such an effect on me because it'll destroy me if she ever leaves. So I'll make sure that she never does. That she never wants to.
My father's plan didn't work. Telling Rachel those things was supposed to make her divorce me, but instead I feel like it made our relationship stronger. I told her things about myself that I've never told anyone else. Things I'm embarrassed and ashamed to admit. And she listened without judging me. Without telling me I was wrong or crazy for feeling that way. I felt like she understood me, which only brought us closer, not farther apart.
I haven't spoken to my father about what he did. All last week, I considered calling him or going to his office and having yet another fight. But then I decided against it. Doing so would give him what he wanted, which was to see me angry and panicked that I'd lost Rachel. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me that way.
"Pearce?" Rachel's hand moves over my chest and I close my eyes and breathe, her touch soothing me.
"Yes, sweetheart."
"Are we still leaving for Italy on Monday?"
I open my eyes. "Of course we're leaving. Why wouldn't we?"
"I just thought with everything that went on that maybe you canceled the trip."
"The thought hadn't even crossed my
mind." I lift her hand up and kiss it. "Even if you were still angry with me, I was still taking you to Italy. It's our honeymoon. We couldn't miss our honeymoon."
Her hand returns to my chest, making small circles over my skin. "If we were still fighting, it wouldn't be much of a honeymoon."
"Then I'd have to end the fight. Or at least distract you from it."
She smiles. "And how would you do that?"
I flip her over on her back and put my lips to hers. "Let me show you."
She laughs. "Again? Pearce, we just did it."
"And we will keep doing it until we've made up." I softly kiss her neck, working my way down to her chest.
"We haven't made up yet?" she asks, her hand moving over my back.
"I'm quite certain we'll have to do this several more times just to be sure."
So we do. And then we fall asleep. For the first time in a week, I'm finally able to sleep. Because Rachel is next to me. Where she should be.
The next morning we go to Shelby's house. Logan answers the door when we arrive.
"Come on in." He leads us to the living room. Shelby's on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, her eyes red and puffy.
Rachel goes over and hugs her. "I'm sorry, Shelby."
"He's gone," she says, tears falling down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry." Rachel keeps hold of her, rubbing her back.
Logan nudges me. "Let's give them some time."
We go out the sliding door to the back deck.
"She's not doing so well," I say to Logan.
"No. She's been crying all night. She knew this was coming, but it's still hard."
"How is her mother doing?"
"She's handling it better than Shelby, but I think that's only because she has to focus on getting the funeral planned and relatives called. Once all of that is over, I'm sure she'll be like Shelby is right now."
"It's good you're here for her."
He nods. "I'll be staying here through Monday, after the funeral, and maybe a few days after that if Shelby wants me to."
"So is this serious? You and Shelby?" I know Rachel already asked him this, but I want to see if his answer will be different when talking to me.