Casual Affair (Timid Souls Book 2)

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Casual Affair (Timid Souls Book 2) Page 9

by Melanie Munton


  Everything was over for us. Without needing to hear the words or the reason for them, I knew that he had called me here to end it. If his expression hadn’t said it, the impending feeling of doom that had suddenly slammed into me would have. That impeccable high that I had been riding only seconds before evaporated in an instant, sending me crashing back to earth and shattering every hope and positive feeling I had coursing through me.

  “Hey, Bea,” he said softly, his voice already breaking.

  I wasn’t sure I could hear this. I wanted to leave him there before he could say the words that I knew I would never forget but I couldn’t. I had to know the reason he didn’t want this. What I had done wrong. Why he didn’t want me.

  “What—” I croaked and had to clear my throat and force the words to come out. “What’s goin’ on?”

  He sighed and looked at me. I almost broke out into sobs at seeing the overwhelming sadness in his eyes. “I needed to talk to you.” He looked down at the ground, staring at it for a few seconds. Irrationally, I prayed that maybe he would change his mind about whatever he came to tell me, but I knew that was useless. He finally raised his head with a devastated expression. “I have to go back to London. Now.”

  The words were like a slap in the face. “But I thought you weren’t supposed to leave until December.”

  “There’s an emergency with our biggest client. My boss needs me back now. We could lose the client and others if we don’t handle it right away.”

  So many questions flitted through my mind. I asked the biggest one first, unsure of whether or not I could ask the others once I heard the answer. “How soon is right away?”

  Our eyes were locked together, an invisible hold between them that wouldn’t allow us to break the connection. His were now full of pain and anguish, looking like his words were gutting him as much as they were me.

  “Tomorrow.”

  The breath I didn’t even realize I was holding whooshed out of me. I felt light-headed as I processed his answer. Tomorrow? He’s just now telling me about this? What did this mean? With every question, I felt closer and closer to either passing out or throwing up. I wasn’t sure which would eventually win out: the shock or the sickness.

  As painful as it was, I had to ask the next question and it was the big one. The only one that seemed to even matter now. “Will you be comin’ back?”

  His spine stiffened and his jaw hardened. I knew he didn’t want to answer, probably didn’t want to hurt me, but I saw the determination in his eyes. He was forcing himself to get through this as much as I was forcing myself to stand there and listen.

  “There were never any plans to, no. This was only a temporary situation. To manage the branches here while we introduced the new system. Then, I would go back to London in December and resume my regular position there.”

  My heart had officially plummeted to the ground.

  That was it, then.

  We really were over.

  He had a life there to get back to and I had a business here that I couldn’t leave.

  Against my better judgment, I had gotten involved with a man, developed feelings for him, and had gotten my hopes up that there was a future for us. This was why I normally kept all of my relationships with men casual. Because once you started falling for a guy, you would eventually get disappointed and then unbearable pain would inevitably follow.

  But this was a different kind of pain than I’d felt before. Already, this was so much worse. This made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

  That was when my self-preservation kicked in.

  The shield of detachment that I’d always worn was put back into place, the walls going up around my crushed heart.

  Everything else just shut down.

  I didn’t know how else to handle this. It was the only way I knew that I could get through it, if I acted like I just didn’t care. Because maybe if I could convince him, I could convince myself of it, too. It was the only way I thought that I could survive Zane leaving me. His sudden appearance into my life, subsequent overhaul of everything I considered to be normal, and his sudden departure was too much to deal with on top of the heartbreak itself.

  I slowly nodded my head, readying myself for the finest acting performance of my life. “Okay. Well, it sucks that I won’t get to show you how to lose at paintball, but I don’t blame you for wantin’ to avoid another beating.” I attempted a small smile but there was really no point so I kept my frown in place.

  There was initial shock on Zane’s face at my crass statement, but then his eyes narrowed in both question and suspicion. “Is that all there was here?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Paintball, football, darts, sex. Was this just casual fun between us?”

  Everything inside wanted to scream no! But how could I do that? How could I admit to feeling something more when he was about to leave? He was going to be gone tomorrow no matter what I said, and I would like to have a small dose of dignity after he left me drowning in his absence. If I gave him everything now, knowing that I wouldn’t get anything in return, what would there be left?

  There would be too many broken pieces to pick up afterwards if I did that.

  “What do you want me to say, Zane? We knew what this was goin’ into it. You knew that I wasn’t lookin’ for a relationship, and I knew that you were leavin’ in December. We both got what we wanted out of it, right?”

  I wanted to suck every word back into my mouth when I saw the look on his face. He looked like a puppy that I had just kicked and it took every ounce of self-control in me to not break down in front of him and beg him to stay with me. To tell him that he meant more to me than he realized and that I couldn’t handle it if I never saw him again.

  Oh, God.

  I would probably never see Zane again.

  That was something that I couldn’t comprehend in that moment. I would shove it away until I was home, alone in my room with a gallon of ice cream, and could cry my sorrow away until the reserve was completely empty.

  He stared at me for the longest time. A part of me hoped he would call me on my bullshit and refuse to go anywhere without me but I knew it wouldn’t happen. Eventually, he slowly nodded, a blankness overtaking his features that felt like another knife to my heart.

  “Right. We got what we wanted.” His voice was even, his tone flat.

  He was closing himself off to me, and although it hurt like the mother of all bitches, I knew it was for the best. Because even if he had any feelings for me, he had no plans to return to the States, so anything that happened between us was best forgotten about. The timing, the location, the circumstances, they were all bad.

  Clearly, it just wasn’t meant to be for us.

  Zane cleared his throat and shuffled around on his feet. Then, he took a step forward and plastered a fake smile on his face. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

  The words were torture to my ears and I couldn’t stand to hear them. He started to walk past me and briefly laid his hand on my arm, causing me to look up at him. His eyes pierced mine, his expression intense, not the blank mask he had on seconds before. It looked as if he wanted to lean in and kiss me but he restrained himself. Again, it was probably for the best because I wasn’t sure if I could let him go if he touched me further.

  “Goodbye, Bea,” he whispered.

  And then he walked away.

  A tear slid down my cheek as I said, “Goodbye, Zane.”

  My voice cracked on his name as I let out the first of many quiet sobs. I wasn’t sure if he heard it or not.

  But I didn’t turn around to see if he had, nor to watch him walk away.

  And he didn’t come back.

  ##

  Chapter Eleven

  Bea

  My feet slammed onto the pavement as I pushed my legs harder, faster, down the street, my mind fighting to stay clear and my body fighting for oxygen. It seemed like I added another half mile to my routine every day, forcing my body to accept the punishment, hoping
that it would keep me from dwelling on how screwed up my life had become.

  A month had passed since Zane left.

  A whole month.

  And I hadn’t heard from him once.

  Not that I expected to, but I had secretly hoped that he would realize what a mistake he’d made and come running back to me.

  I’m such an idiot.

  I’d basically told him there was nothing but sex between us, so why would he want to come back? What did he have to come back to?

  I had never felt this miserable—this hopeless—in my life. Like there was just nothing there for me anymore. It was almost laughable at how different this was than when I’d had my falling out with Evan. That wasn’t even a blip on the pain radar compared to what Zane’s leaving had done to me.

  At least before Zane I had been content with casual sex and no relationships because I had been sure there wasn’t anyone out there who would make giving all of that up well worth it. Who would make all of that seem empty and less than satisfying.

  But now that I knew what I was missing, now that I knew the kind of better that was out there, everything I did before Zane seemed completely meaningless. Like I was starving for food and without Zane, the only thing available to eat was tofu.

  I didn’t care about any of it anymore.

  What was the point in even putting in the effort if what I wanted—what I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt would make me happy—was halfway across the world?

  I had become a shell of my former self and I knew that Felicity noticed. I’d felt her wanting to say something for weeks, but she had kept quiet. Perhaps gauging the severity of the situation and the possible causes for my abrupt change in behavior, seeing as how I still hadn’t explained how deep I got in it with Zane. She had no clue about any of it.

  But I knew that when I entered our hotel room after I finished my run, I wouldn’t be so lucky today. My sister was sitting at the window seat and turned in my direction at my entrance, looking as if she’d been waiting for me to get back.

  It was early November and we were in Atlanta at the four-day design convention. We were in the second day of our trip and everything had been going extremely well at the convention. I was doing my job but it was more than obvious that my heart wasn’t in it. It looked as if Felicity had had enough of it, too.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on, Bea?” she asked, her tone brooking no argument, her face demanding answers.

  “What do you mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t deflect. You’ve never been able to keep secrets from me. Besides, we live together so I know how little you’ve left your room when you get home from work. I know how mopey you’ve been and how you haven’t been goin’ out at all like you used to. I also know how little you’ve been eatin’ and how often you’ve been workin’ out. You’ve lost weight, Bea, and you’re startin’ to scare me. So, I’ll ask again. What the hell is goin’ on?”

  I shrugged. “Work’s just had me a little stressed. That’s all.”

  I wanted so badly to tell her everything. But at the same time, I didn’t want to dredge everything up again. I had cried so much and the past month had well and truly exhausted me, both mentally and physically.

  “Bullshit,” Felicity spat. “We’ve had a lot more goin’ on in the past and you’ve never once balked at the workload. I know it’s because of him. Whoever you were seein’ that you wouldn’t tell me about. Whatever happened, you’re not handlin’ it well and I’ve never seen you like this. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  I felt my walls crumbling down with every word she spoke. In that moment, I had no idea why I had shut her out of everything with Zane, why I hadn’t opened up. It made no sense to me and I suddenly wanted to unburden everything to my sister.

  So I did.

  My legs gave out from under me and I collapsed onto the bed. “He’s gone,” I whispered as silent tears fell down my cheeks. “He left me.”

  Felicity rushed over to me when she heard me crying, wrapping her arms around me and waiting for me to calm down enough to talk. After I sucked in several breaths, I told her the whole story. About first meeting Zane at the club that night with her and Gwen, about how we hung out some more and decided to keep things in a strictly casual, sexual zone. Then, about realizing that I felt more than that, that he had come to mean way more to me than just convenient sex. And finally, about how he got called back to England and left me, without any emotional revelations on either of our parts.

  Although it hurt to repeat everything aloud, it was also a small relief to talk to someone about it. I had always been the your feelings will always be there inside your head, so why not wait and deal with them tomorrow type. But I knew that I would either explode or go insane if I didn’t confide in someone, and Felicity had always been the most understanding person when it came to how I handled my emotions. She knew what Evan had done to me and why I started closing myself off from people.

  So, she also knew the significance of what a man affecting me like this meant.

  “And you haven’t heard from him since he left?” she asked after I finished regurgitating the events of the last few months.

  I shook my head. “No, and I don’t blame him. I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  My sister took my hand and squeezed, offering more comfort in that one small gesture than I’m sure she realized. “Bea, if he loves you too, he’s probably just as miserable as you are. You should call him and tell him everything you just told me. That you made a mistake but that he deserves to know how you feel.”

  “But then what?” I asked her, incredulous at how she was making it sound so easy. “He’s still over there. That’s where his life is, where his father is. What’s the point in sayin’ everything now if it’s just goin’ to make the pain worse?”

  “You love him, though.”

  I stood up and started pacing around the room, needing to do something, needing to move and exert more energy. Exercising always worked. It always cleared my head and forced me to not think about anything.

  But maybe you need to actually start thinking about all of it.

  Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m just fine on my own, just like I was before. I just need a little more time to get back into the swing of things.

  Or maybe you’re being a coward and avoiding the truth because you’re just afraid of getting your heart broken again.

  He left. My heart already is broken. It’s over.

  No, it’s not. Because you know deep down that you didn’t try hard enough.

  Oh, that inner monologue can be a snarky bitch.

  “What if love isn’t everything?” I turned to ask her, momentarily halting my frantic pacing. This was the question I had mulled over the most, the one I was most afraid of. “You can love more than one person in your lifetime. Not all couples are meant to be together for the rest of their lives. Not all love is meant to last forever. What if Zane and I are one of those couples? We might love each other, yeah. And we had fun together, sure. But what if that’s all it is? Maybe there’s a reason that he lives there and I live here. Maybe we’re just two sh—”

  “If you say that you’re just two ships passin’ in the night, I might have to throw somethin’ at you. Beatrice Paxton does not speak in clichés like that. You’ve got to snap out of this funk.”

  I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Well, what would you call it? If it was truly meant to be, it wouldn’t be this hard, would it?”

  Felicity’s expression turned pensive as she considered my question. “Sometimes it is. It’s never supposed to be easy, Bea. Because if it was, how would you know what’s worth keepin’? How would you know how much he really meant to you? The struggles and the fights…they make you realize whether or not it’s worth it in the end. So, what you have to ask yourself now is would you rather wade through the struggles and fight for this man, or would you rather just let him go altogether?”

  I thought about the question and it did
n’t take me long to determine my answer. I thought about the last few months with Zane and realized that I had never been happier any other time in my life. When I painted everything in black and white, the answer was obvious.

  Zane was fun. He loved sports and was competitive like me and we always had a blast together.

  Zane was smart and successful. He worked for an international company and although we’d never discussed salaries, I could tell that he was not only good at his job, but he raked in the money as well.

  Zane was funny. He totally got my dry, sarcastic humor and he had me in constant stitches when I was around him.

  Zane was sexy. He had picked up on what I needed from him within the first ten seconds of touching me the night we met and hadn’t stop pleasuring me until my body was completely sated. His dominant side balanced out my overactive controlling side perfectly, letting me know when it was okay to give someone else the reins.

  Zane was thoughtful and caring. He was unselfish in all aspects of his life, not just in bed. He helped his father, fiercely loved and missed his mother, and had always put me first in whatever situation we were in. I honestly don’t think he had the capacity to be cruel.

  I almost always lived in a gray world.

  But sometimes, black and white just made sense.

  So, screw the distance.

  Screw the Atlantic Ocean.

  It was time to put on my big girl pants and call the man I was in love with.

  ##

  Chapter Twelve

  Zane

  I missed her call.

  I’d been building up the courage to call her myself, but I couldn’t believe that she had beat me to it.

  And I’d missed it.

  The anger I’d felt when I saw her name pop up on my phone, showing that she had called over three hours prior, was still coursing through me because now I wasn’t sure what to do.

  I’d been over at Peter’s house at the time, eating dinner with him, his wife and baby girl, and had left my phone on silent in my coat pocket. We’d been so immersed in conversation—Peter had been right; I had wanted to talk about Bea, desperate for some wisdom on the situation which he gloated about, so I’d told him everything—and then the football game on television that I hadn’t thought about my phone. Since returning to London and having to deal with the near-catastrophe at work, I hadn’t been able to escape the constant phone calls, texts, and emails. So, one night of not having to worry about it was a welcome reprieve.

 

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