Stay With Me

by E. R. Wade

  From the moment I had her, I knew I was screwed. Once was not going to be enough. I wanted more. And the more I took, the more I wanted. Then I started thinking of us beyond the bedroom. It seemed like the more I fought my feelings for her, the more I wanted her. Not just physically, I want her in every way.

  She’s the only person who has made me feel alive in years. Work helps to distract me but it’s not nearly enough. She’s filled the void where my heart used to be, and I feel like there’s hope. But once she hears what I have to say, she may not want to have anything to do with me again.

  Would she able to forgive me when I tell her the truth? I’ve been so unfair to her. I’m not proud of the way I’ve handled the situation so far.

  Nadya is right. I have to tell her and give her the chance to decide what she wants, and the longer I keep the truth from her, the more difficult it’ll be to explain.

  I can only hope that she’ll hear me out and if I’m really lucky she’ll give us a chance to explore what we have. I know I don’t deserve it. I should let her go, but I can’t. The mere thought of being without her makes me feel like my heart is being ripped out from my chest slowly.

  Tomorrow. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. That’s when I’ll find out if I’ll continue walking towards the brilliant lights with her or go back to the grayness that was my life.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Sofia

  I wake up the next morning and I turn to see my phone on my nightstand. The LED indicator is blinking red, alerting me that I have a message. It’s a text from Julian. It was sent at dawn, three hours ago.

  Him: Can I see you today? We need to talk.

  We need to talk.

  A feeling of foreboding settles over me. Does he want to end want we have? I hope not. Last night’s conversation with Matt plays on my mind. I might as well stop shying away from the truth. I’ve completely fallen for him and I don’t want to ever let him go.

  Me: Sure

  He responds immediately.

  Him: Does 6pm work for you?

  Me: Yeah

  Him: I’ll come over

  If he wants to break things off, would he bother coming to see me? I don’t think men operate that way. Maybe the exception is if they’re in long-term relationships. I read his texts again. I can’t make out anything from it. Dropping my phone back on the nightstand, I tell myself that there’s no point worrying. I’ll find out what he wants to talk about soon enough.

  Later that evening, I open the door to my apartment and Julian steps inside. He's wearing a plain grey T-shirt and dark jeans. His hair is mussed like he just ran his hands through it. He looks sinfully sexy.

  “Hey,” he says softly, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.

  Straightening, he looks at me with warmth in his eyes. My heart flutters in reaction. Every time I see him, he looks more attractive than ever, and I fall a little bit more for him. Being with him and getting to know him sucks me in deeper.

  “Hi,” I respond, smiling up at him. So it's obvious he isn't here to end our arrangement, which makes me more curious about what he wants to talk about. Looking at him closely, I notice that he seems nervous but he’s trying not to let it show.

  Maybe a drink will help. “Would you like something to drink?”

  He smiles at me. “No. Thank you.” Taking my hand in his, he leads me to the loveseat. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  We both sit, facing each other but he lets go of my hand. I miss his familiar touch.

  “There’s something I need to tell you and I need you to hear me out. Will you do that for me, please?”

  He does look nervous. I don’t know if I should be worried or scared or both. I nod in acquiescence, looking encouragingly at him.

  He looks away from me briefly and I notice that his hands are clenched on his thighs, and then he unclenches them and takes a deep breath. Whatever it is he wants to say is obviously hard for him. I still don’t know if I’m supposed to be worried or scared, but what I’m feeling right now is concern. I hope he’s not sick. Oh god, please let him not be sick. No, I don’t think that’s it. I shouldn’t jump to improbable conclusions. Julian looks healthy and fit. He is not sick. He can’t be sick.

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he says. Okaaay. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “I want you to know that I didn’t set out to deceive you or lie to you, and it is not my intention to hurt you.” My level of concern has just gone up by a few notches. Now I am definitely worried and anxious. Whatever he is about to say won’t be pleasant. I mentally brace myself to listen.

  “I’m married,” he says bluntly. He’s looking at me regretfully, uneasily watching my reaction.

  Shock pervades my entire body. I feel the color leaving my face. Married? How? When? That’s impossible. But somehow it is, if I heard him correctly. This is not what I thought he had come here to say. No, this is so much worse. Julian has a wife?

  “What?” I whisper uncertainly. There must be a sensible explanation for this. There just has to be. “That’s not possible.” I realize I am shaking my head as if that would erase what he has just said.

  Looking remorseful and uncomfortable, he goes on. “She is in a coma. She’s been in a coma for two years. She was involved in a car accident after telling me that she was leaving me and the child she was carrying wasn’t mine. She was three months pregnant.” An awful beat of silence hangs in the air between us. “She asked me for a divorce.”

  A myriad of emotions rush through me from hurt to anger to dismay and back to shock. I feel them all deeply. I’m struggling to grasp what he’s saying, what it all means.

  “I know this must come as a shock to you, and I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you in the beginning.”

  I can’t utter a word. I don’t bother to conceal the disappointment and shock that must be visible on my face, not to mention the intense hurt. I feel betrayed, extremely betrayed. I know we didn’t make promises to each other but I can’t help it. I feel thoroughly let down. I feel ill.

  I can’t believe that I’ve been sleeping with another woman’s husband all this time and I had no idea. His betrayal cuts me deep. I can’t bear to look at him.

  Suddenly three words pierce through my shock and hurt – coma, divorce and pregnant. His wife is in a coma. They were getting a divorce. She was pregnant. She was going to have his baby. I feel light-headed. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and another, willing the feeling to pass. I wonder if the pain I’m feeling in my heart is worse than the pain of heartbreak. If he had ended our relationship, is it possible that the pain would be as bad as this?

  “Sofia?” The sound of his voice makes my eyes snap open. I’m relieved he hasn’t come nearer or made a move to touch me. All of a sudden, his words come back to me: the child she was carrying wasn’t mine. His wife was pregnant with another man’s child.

  Why am I thinking about that? This is information overload.

  His wife cheated on him and she’s in a coma. Why is this banging in my head?

  “The child?” My voice sounds strained and like it’s coming from someone else who’s far away. I didn’t mean to ask. The question just slipped out of my lips.

  “She lost the baby,” he responds in a flat tone, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Oh no. I grip the arm of the chair tight. I’m starting to feel light-headed again. I focus on breathing. I feel like I am about to have my first panic attack but it doesn’t come.

  “Sofia?” Julian sounds concerned but I don’t care. I can’t believe that he would deliberately deceive me. How could he withhold this crucial piece of information and start a sexual relationship with me? I knew there must be a serious reason why he has avoided having a relationship for two years, and I had naively assumed that an ex-girlfriend broke his heart. I could never have imagined this. And here I was thinking that I was special, that he was probably feeling something for me no matter how hard he tried to fight it, and he was finally starting to let me in.<
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  I feel his hand lightly touch my arm and I instinctively jerk back. I can’t have him touching me. I stand up, refusing to look at him.

  “Please leave.” I can’t bear to be in the same room with him anymore. I need time to think, to process what he’s just told me and I can’t do that with him here.

  “No,” he says, standing up too.

  “Julian, I want you to go,” I say, firmly, yet tonelessly.

  “Sofia,” he says quickly, “You agreed to hear me out. If you can do that, I’ll leave immediately after.”

  I can’t guarantee that I won’t completely lose it if he drops any more bombshells tonight. Something in my expression must have given away the fact that I am about to refuse.

  “Sofia, please. I’m asking for just a few minutes, and then I’ll leave.” His tone is pleading, and there’s an unmistakable note of desperation in his voice.

  I shouldn’t have looked at him. I really shouldn’t have looked into his beseeching blue gaze. I hear myself saying, “You have two minutes.”

  The relief is evident in his expression. “Thank you.” He takes a step towards me, and I instinctively take a step back. He stops. “Sofia,” he says softly, “I know you must be in shock. Please know I never meant to hurt you.”

  “What am I? Some sort of stop-gap until she wakes up?” I hate the anger, bitterness and hurt I hear in my voice. It’s a struggle to hold it all in. I’m usually quite even-tempered but I’m not sure I can remain calm much longer.

  “No,” he answers, his brows furrowing in concern. “Of course not. How can you even think that? My marriage is over.”

  I don’t know what to think. I wish I didn’t have to ask but I have to know, if not I’ll lose my mind wondering about it. “Do you love her?”

  His eyes search my face. “No, I don’t,” he says slowly. I’m relieved, which makes me feel like shit. I don’t feel very good about myself.

  “Sofia.” He takes a step towards me. I take a step back.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I tell him, aware that I don’t have much space to step back to.

  He takes another step closer. “Why?” And then another. I take a couple of steps back and my back hits the wall. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You’ve been lying to me for weeks!” I say angrily.

  “Sofia . . .”

  “You should have told me!”

  “Yes, I should have,” he accedes quietly.

  “Then why didn’t you?” Surely he must have known that telling me any time after we got together would hurt me, and even more so after finding out that he’s been hiding it for weeks.

  “The truth. I just wanted to be with you. Only you.” He’s standing so close, right in front of me. “Tell me you forgive me.”

  “I can’t.” To my utter dismay, I find that in spite of his revelations, I am affected by his nearness.

  Some dark emotion flashes across his face. “But you will eventually, right?”

  “I need to think about it, and I can’t do that with you here.”

  He nods slowly, like he understands. “Can we talk about this when you’re ready?”

  “Yes.” Will I ever be ready?

  “Can I call you?” I start to shake my head from side to side in refusal, but he continues speaking, “Just to see how you’re doing.”

  “Julian, I need some time.” I need him gone. I can’t bear to be near him right now.

  He stares at me with an unreadable look in his beautiful blue eyes. “Okay. I’ll go. I really am sorry,” he says softly. With that, he steps away from me and walks out the door.

  I slump down in agony, rubbing my chest where my heart used to be before Julian brutally ripped it out.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Julian - Two years ago

  “Julian Scott?”

  Turning towards the direction of the voice, I see two police officers looking at me with less than friendly expressions as they approach me. They already know who I am. I can’t say I haven’t been expecting them. I am standing right outside the hospital’s waiting room with Addison’s parents, Victor and Samantha Walker. We’ve just finished talking to the surgeon in charge of Addison’s care, and I think we’re all still in a bit of shock from what he has just told us about Addison’s condition.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t care less whatever happens to me. Sean is very lucky he’s still breathing.

  “We have a warrant for your arrest. Please raise your hands and turn around.” I do as they say, and they pat me down. They pull my hands to the back, none too gently, and cuff me while reading me my Miranda Rights.

  My father-in-law, looking incredulous, asks, “What is the meaning of this? What’s this about?” His authoritative tone demands an answer from the officers. Victor is an imposing man who exudes success and confidence, and commands respect from others. At almost sixty years old, he’s in remarkably good shape, tall and broad-shouldered with thick brown hair peppered with grey. His wife of thirty years, Samantha, is a petite, blue-eyed and blond-haired woman with a quiet and friendly disposition whose life revolves around her husband and her two daughters. Victor worships the ground she walks on.

  “Sir, Mr. Scott has been accused by Sean Connors of criminal battery with the intention to cause serious bodily injury.” Victor aims his gaze at me, his light gray eyes filled with questions. I can see that he doesn’t want to believe them but my lack of denial is giving him pause.

  “You got into a fight with Sean?” Addie’s mother asks, looking shocked and then disappointed. I’m not particularly concerned how she feels about it, and Sean should count himself fortunate that he’s still alive to press charges. “When did this happen?”

  “Last night, ma’am,” the younger officer answers. “Mr. Connors suffered a concussion. He was discharged from hospital today.”

  I know what she’s thinking. I should have been at her daughter’s bedside instead of getting into a fight with Sean. Well, it wasn’t really a fight since the only parts of my body that were bruised are my hands. I should have made sure he stayed in the hospital for much longer. Addie is in a coma with broken bones and a severe head injury, and I hold him solely responsible.

  “Is this true?” Victor finally asks me.

  “He got your daughter pregnant,” I tell him bluntly. Victor visibly stiffens and Samantha’s face turns deathly white. I don’t think they’ll miss the fact that I called Addie their daughter and not my wife. The cops lead me away from the hospital and into the back of their squad car. All I can think about as we make our way to the station in this incredibly sunny day are the events of last night. I can still hear the satisfying crack of my fist on his jaw. As far as I’m concerned, I could have gone a lot longer beating the shit out of him. The asshole collapsed way too easily for my liking.

  After finding several explicit and incriminating messages and pictures between Addie and Sean on her cell phone, I drove like a crazed man to his condo not caring that I was going above the speed limit. As soon as he opened the door, I flew at him with a level of rage I’d never experienced in my life. I wanted to kill him. The traitor had been my best friend since we were kids. I had never, ever hit him. I should have known the fucker would eventually betray me. I didn’t give him a chance to explain. Why the hell would I be interested in listening to anything he had to say? White-hot rage was flowing through my veins, spurring me on. For every punch I landed on him, I felt a little satisfaction. Nothing I do to him would come close to the devastation he has wrecked in my life and the pain he has caused for Addison. Before I left, I let him know that he’s a piece of shit who’s not worth killing, and warned him to stay away from me and Addie. I left him moaning like the weak fucker he is on the floor of his apartment.

  A couple of hours later, my lawyer bails me out and the charges are dismissed that afternoon. I find out from my lawyer that Victor paid Sean a visit, and let him know if he doesn’t drop the charges, he’d take time out of his busy life and destroy him. Sean didn’
t have to think about it. He knows Victor isn’t the kind of man you take lightly.

  I don’t go back to the hospital, choosing to go home instead even though my house is the second to the last place I want to be. The last place being the hospital. I’m not ready to face my in-laws and the inquisitive faces of the hospital staff I’d undoubtedly see. This house reminds me of the fraud that is my marriage. The memories we created are nothing but lies, as impalpable as a nightmare and dissipating like ashes in the wind. Everything around me that felt so familiar now feels foreign.

  The sun stars to set on the horizon but I make no move to switch on the lights. I just sit there and think of my past, my present and my future. My phone rings a few times but I don’t bother getting up to grab it from the table where I dropped it. I know I should call my parents and sister. They’ll be worried about me but I still make no effort to stand up. Victor will certainly have called me. I’ll have to call him to thank him for getting the charges dropped, and also to check on Addie.

  Addie.

  Addison.

  It’s hard to fully grasp the direction our lives have taken. Everything I thought I knew has gone up in flames. There are so many things I would do differently if I could, and maybe I wouldn’t be sitting down in this empty house trying hard to control the anger and the bitterness eating at me. Anger that makes me want to drive back to Sean’s condo to finish what I started yesterday. Anger that makes me hate the woman who is now critically injured and fighting for her life.

  Knowing I need to rid myself of these dark emotions, I sit still and focus hard on all the good memories of Addison I can muster, and also remind myself that Sean Connors isn’t worth going to prison for. Even though I wouldn’t mind Sean being wiped off the face of the earth and despite Addison’s incomprehensible actions, I want her awake, happy and healthy. I don’t just want her to be, I need her to be.

  There is no doubt in my mind that all our lives have been irrevocably changed.

  Later that night as I sit alone in my dark house brooding, I take off my wedding ring, and I know without a doubt that today would be the last day I would ever wear it. I am done. Completely done.