Unworthy Of You (The Spring Rose Bay Series Book 2)

by K. L. Jessop

  “I hope you rot in hell!” I spit.

  “No, darling, the only one going to hell is you. Chloe must turn in her grave every time you screw her husband.”

  Venom and nauseous swirl my stomach as I leave her office in a hurry, racing down the stairs in need for air as my limbs struggle to take my weight with my body wanting to collapse. Once I hit the hot air of the city it does nothing to ease the foul discomfort as perspiration clings to my skin. My stomach rolls, and I hold back my hair to empty the acid from my stomach. I can’t stop shaking. I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry, but it’s only tears that now fall. I want to go home. I want to be in Andrew’s arms so he can give me that protection he’s always provided. Everything he said about her is right, not that I’ve ever doubted him.

  Guilt soon rips me apart as the reality of what I’ve done sets in. He can’t know of today, but at the same time, I can’t lie to him; he deserves more than that. My guilt washes with fear and panic takes over. Scrambling in my bag for my phone, I dial the one guy I can always turn to when I’m in deep. “Lucas,” I sob. “I’ve done something stupid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Andrew

  The smell of lasagne filters around the house as I wait for Megan to return home from her business course. Christ knows why she went on the damn thing—her work is fantastic and improves all the time—but when she gets an idea in her head, she won’t stop until it’s ticked off her list.

  I decided to finish work at six to come home and cook a little dinner. It’s nothing fancy, but is something that will go nice with a good wine while I talk a few things over with her. I’ve had the same thing on my mind for days, and I’ve finally made my mind up. I want to call what we have a relationship. I want to make it official so I can refer to her as my girlfriend—my partner—now that my brain has settled and I’ve finally realised the difference in my feelings. She’s hit me like a freight train; she’s showed me how to be the person I’ve longed for and I can’t come back from that.

  Is it a big challenge for me? Yes, long term is a bigger commitment than a few weeks, but I feel ready, and I know Megan is committed. She wouldn’t have stuck around to begin with if she didn’t have it in her.

  Buttoning up my clean shirt, I give myself the once over. Nerves unexpectedly hit my stomach when I hear the door close and her shoes clip across the kitchen. This is clearly a bigger deal for me now than it was at the start of the day. What if she doesn’t want this? What if she says no? What if it’s too soon for the both of us?

  Jesus, man, get a grip.

  I head out of the bedroom to find Megan with her back to me at the kitchen island. She’s kicked off her heels and she pops out her hip as she stands texting a message on her phone. My hands are itching to have her ass in them. Shall I ask her before or after I’ve made love to her?

  “Hey, gorgeous,” I say, snaking my arms around her waist as her upper body falls into mine. She is my home—my security. “How was your day? Did you learn anything different?”

  “Nothing I didn’t already know,” she says softly. “What are you cooking?”

  “Lasagne.” I kiss her hair and she turns in my arms. Before I can look at her she lays her head against me and holds me tighter. “You ok?”

  “You smell good,” she whispers, avoiding my question. I pull away from our embrace and find her eyes. She looks pale, her eyes are red and a little blood shot. I frown. Has she been crying? She has that look in them that she gets when something is bothering her.

  “I’m just tired. I’m going for a shower. Have I got time?”

  “The food should be ready in fifteen.”

  I dish up the food while Megan pours the drinks and we sit across from each other. It’s times like this where I hate the house even more. I want a dining table with high back chairs and a sea view for when we have guests come over. Sitting at the marble breakfast bar with low lighting doesn’t really give the romantic feel I’m trying to generate.

  “This looks good. You’ve gone to so much trouble,” Megan says kindly. She’s twisted her hair up, removed her makeup and is wearing one of my shirts that hangs off her shoulder. She couldn’t look any more beautiful. I still kick myself at times for not having her in my life sooner.

  “It’s no trouble, Megan. It’s just food,” I smile.

  We continue eating in silence. I can’t work out if this atmosphere I’m identifying is coming from her or me because of what I’m about to ask her. I wipe my mouth on the napkin as I notice Megan push her food around her plate. She’s hardly said a word since she got in. This whole ‘I’m just tried’ business is bullshit. Maybe she’s thinking about going home like I have been and is apprehensive about what this will mean for us. I meant what I said the other day, that it wouldn’t change a thing, but I couldn’t help but notice the flash of doubt in her eye. She needs to know I’m serious.

  I push my plate aside and gulp down my wine to try and kill the anxiety. I lean across and take her hand. It’s now or never. “Megan, I—”

  “I went to see your mother today.”

  My blood runs cold. Everything I planned to say erases from my mind with her words—the words I’m hoping I’ve heard wrong. I pull away from her hand. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I lied. I didn’t go on the business course. I went to the city to see Violet.”

  I do nothing but stare at her. I’m dumbfounded, waiting for the moment where she tells me she’s just fucking with my head and that she hasn’t gone behind my back and done the one thing I never wanted her too. But the more my eyes burn into her, the more uncomfortable she gets.

  “This is some sick joke, right?”

  She shakes her head.

  My ears pound with the sudden rush in blood pressure. My mouth is dry. I can’t breathe. Pushing out of my seat, I leave her sitting. I need space. For the first time in so long, that heavy suffocation is once again pressing on my chest. It’s become so unfamiliar of late that I’m struggling to get a hold of it. My chest is practically convulsing as I try to breathe. Why would she do that? After everything I’ve told her, why would she do that? I make myself a whiskey and focus on the dusk sky to try and calm myself. They last thing I want to do is start screaming at her.

  “Why?” I growl.

  “I don’t know.”

  Her voice is weak and tearful. I shake my head at her ridiculous answer and turn back to her. “You don’t know? You lied about where you were going, took a two-hour journey into the city and met a woman that destroys peoples live because you don’t… fucking… know?”

  “Yes. At the time, it felt like it was the right thing to do, but when I got there I realised it was too late.”

  “So, what was the right thing, Megan? Before you realised you’d fuck up what did you think was the right thing?”

  “I wanted to protect you.”

  “From what?”

  “Everything. You’ve never had it and I want to be the one that provides it.”

  “So, you pity me because of my upbringing is that what you’re saying?”

  “No!” She comes to me and I step away. The look on her face from my rejection guts me, but I have to push that aside. I know of the spell her touch can create on me and I can’t have that right now. I need to try and get my head together and work out what the fuck is the right thing to do in this situation that’s flipped my world in seconds. I sit down on the sofa, gripping the glass in my hand to control the hot rage that’s bubbling through me.

  I was prepared to wash my hands of my mother, I should have made that decision and cut all ties with her years ago, but I stuck by what I promised Annie. Now that she’s gone, I don’t have to anymore. Megan is the one person that I can’t see my life without and, I wanted to protect her from the world—from Violet. How can I do that now that? she has the ability to contaminate and destroy even more.

  Tonight, was meant to be a turning point in my life, one that I’ve grown to realise I do deserve and that I am worthy of,
only now that’s been washed out with the tide like everything else.

  Megan silently sits on her knees in front of me. I’m yet to look at her but I know she’s crying.

  “I found myself searching her website the other day, and the moment I saw the photos of her and Chloe and the statement she made about loving her family it angered me. There was no mention of you, and I just saw red. I wanted answers to the questions I didn’t know how to ask. I wanted to tell her how wrong she is about you because I don’t see the things she sees, and I’ve never felt the things you thought I should’ve in the beginning. I had to prove that she is wrong.”

  I remain silent. My heart pounds and I want to escape her proximity, but I know I have to hear this because I know she’s speaking the truth. Having fire in her belly has always awoken that sassy attitude in her any opportunity she got. Now it’s been stripped back, and her vulnerability is exposed, so for that I know I have to listen. “The same photo was on her desk. She spoke of her with such love and kindness. Chloe was a beautiful woman but I was angry at the pair of them for everything that they individually put you through. She wouldn’t stop talking about her and when I mentioned you, I saw the change in her face.”

  I know the look she’s referring to: that look of disgust and hatred that kills me every time I witness it because I’ve never been what she wanted—a look that makes it hard for you to remain happy because it has the power to make you feel dead inside.

  “She said some horrible things, unforgivable things. She was rude and nasty and is everything you said she is.”

  I look down at her, and I wish I hadn’t when I see her tear stained face, but irritation kicked in from her words. “What, so now you believe me because you’ve witnessed how vile she is for yourself?”

  “I believed you before. I wanted to tell her what you mean to me and that she’s missed out on a life with a good man and his huge heart. I went there to fight for you, Andrew. I only ever had you in mind, not because I doubted you but because I’m on your side. You mean so much to me and I believe you feel it too. I did it for us. I wanted to know what I was up against.”

  “You weren’t up against anything, Megan, because I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, but now you’ve just thrown yourself into the one part of my world I never wanted you involved in.”

  My anger of her admission has calmed. Only now, it’s transformed into disappointment. I understand why Megan did what she did: it’s in her nature to want the best in people, but that doesn't mean I can forgive her that easily. She’s now seen the evidence of my upbringing, and witnessed the monster who destroyed my childhood and made me a man with haunts and trustworthy issues. She’s kicked me in the guts in one of the worst ways she could possibly think of: she’s exposed herself and put her vulnerability on the line and contacted the devil. In the process, has made me look even more weak and pathetic in front of my mother than I already do because she’s fought my battle, and Violet will no doubt be loving every second.

  “Andrew, I know you’re angry but—”

  “I’m not angry, Megan. I’m disappointed and hurt. I thought better of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she cries. “Please forgive me.”

  Having brought my mother into our relationship, she’s jeopardised everything. I can protect myself from my mother, and I will do everything within my power to protect Megan, but I can’t do that all the time. I can’t go through with Megan what I went through with Chloe because it will kill me. The only way I can protect her fully and know that she won’t be a victim of Violet’s evilness is to do the one thing I should have done before this even started.

  I look at her. Her eyes are full of anguish and sorrow: her cheeks are puffy and red and all I want to do is take her in my arms. “I don’t think I can forgive you.”

  “You don’t mean that. We can work through this.”

  “We wouldn't have to if you’d just stayed away. I wanted to forget everything in my past and start anew. You were my fresh start, Megan. Now you’ve contaminated it with the poison of my mother.”

  “No. No, Andrew. We can do this.” She starts to panic and is up on her knees, begging me with her hands as her tears fall. I have to do everything within my power not to crumble with her. “We can work this out.”

  She’s so precious. I can’t have her put at risk. I won’t allow it. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her, so even though it will destroy me I know the decision I’m about to make is the right one. “It’s too late, Megan. You’ve broken my trust and we can’t go back from that. It’s over.”

  Her sharp inhale is gut-wrenching and the blood drains from her face. Her features have gone from emotional panic to heartbroken is seconds. I hate myself. The dead weight in my stomach and the tight squeeze in my heart make it hard to breathe.

  “It’s not over. You need me. We need each other. We make each other feel alive. Please, Andrew, please don’t do this. I can’t be without you,” she sobs, pulling at my arms and chest in a desperation to hold on. This is harder than I thought and in my heart, it’s not what I want at all, because I love her. The thought of pushing her away is killing me, but I know it’s the right thing to do in order to protect her.

  “I’m sorry, Megan.” I whisper, not knowing what else to say. I rise from the chair in a desperate need to find space and air when she grabs my hands.

  “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  My heart stops. She’s just torn it out and stolen my breath all at once. She has no idea what she’s just done to me. Those words have so much power and meaning behind them. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamt and craved to hear them slip from the lips of the woman that’s claimed my heart. But this is me—this is my reality and that reality cannot consist of a woman’s love that I’m no longer worthy of. So, I answer in the only way I can.

  “Which is why you need to go.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Megan

  I grip hold of the railings and try to breathe through the pain as I reach the bottom of the hill. People stare as they pass, but their faces remain a blur. The sea air stings my wet cheeks from my tears and the ache in my heart is agonising from being ripped out and shredded into a million pieces. My chest compresses. I’m cold, weak and on the point of collapse. I left the house with nothing but the clothes I’m wearing: no phone, no purse and just the shirt of Andrew’s, my bed shorts and a broken heart. That little bit of hope I clung onto when I gave him my declaration of love meant nothing to him. After everything we’ve been through, he just crumpled it up and threw it away like some old paper bag for the sake of a poisonous bitch that doesn’t care. I thought we had something—something special, something worth fighting for—but I guess I’ve only got myself to blame. I hurt him. I’m no different to the other women in his life. I went and tore what we have apart with my stupidity and now I have to face the consequences that I know will destroy me for eternity.

  I’ve got no idea where I’m going. I just let my feet take me as I fall into a world of none existence. I’ve walked these dark roads many a time before, but tonight this is a different walk of shame to the ones I’ve been used to. Everything hurts: my limbs, the roar of the waves against my ears, the cool breeze on my skin and the emptiness. All of it. Everything in, on or around me penetrates through to slice me further apart.

  I’ve ruined everything.

  If only I’d stayed away, never followed my line of curiosity and determination to know of the woman that I already knew was evil, and stayed with the man I love, none of this would have happen and I’d still be in his arms where I long to be.

  Once I see the large glass windows up ahead and the car on the drive, I rest against the wall to steady myself. If I’m supposed to feel relief at the site of the familiar property and the man it belongs to, I don’t. All I feel is that dead weight pulling me down harder because the reality of not spending the night with Andrew guts me. Failing to fight back the tears, I knock on the door. I’m
broken and fragile and I hate myself more than you can ever imagine.

  “He doesn’t want me, Lucas,” I sob when he opens the door.

  Strong arms swim around my back as he pulls me against his chest. Tucking my face into the crook of his neck, I let my uncontrolled tears leave my body as he strokes my hair. Usually Lucas is the one person that makes every shitty situation tolerable, only this time I don’t think it’s going to be that easy and I don’t think even he can mend this.

  “Here drink this,” Lucas says, handing me a whiskey. Just the sight of it makes me think of Andrew. After crying all over my brother, I exhausted myself to the point that I passed out on his sofa. Today has been a day full of mixed emotions and my body physically can’t take much more: it feels as though it’s been battered, and my head pounds.

  “So, what happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper. Talking about it will be too painful. Lucas picked me up after seeing Violet, so he knows the majority of what happened and why I did what I did, but telling him what happened with Andrew will be like sticking the knife into the raw wound.

  “Well I do. Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not ready to talk!” I snap at him. Irritation grips my chest. I’m not ready to talk. I’m not ready to relive what happened.

  “You arrive on my door step in tears and wear hardly anything, Megan. You can’t just turn up like that and expect me to not ask questions.” He bends his head to look at me and I look away. “Jesus, enough already. Just tell me.”

  “I told him I love him!” I yell. “I told him I’ve fallen in love with him and the look on his face was as though I said the worst thing in the world. Then he walked out of the room and left me. So, there. Are you happy now? Stupid me for thinking that I might actually be able to keep a guy for more than just sex.”