Beyond Bliss

by Foster, Delia

  “Oh my God, this is the best birthday gift ever. What did Laura say?” she giggled.

  He still looked irate, but the corners of his lips lifted up. “She went on and got Peter Pan on her right one.”

  She was in hysterics after that, and the time passed quickly as Carter relayed the circumstances under which her father had convinced him to get the tattoo done. Only Laura knew—and now her.

  Even Bernard didn’t know.

  “Can you imagine what he would have said after all the hell I gave him about the arrow on his ass?” Carter shuddered, sending her into a fit of giggles again.

  The car drew to a halt.

  “We’re here,” the driver announced.

  She looked out of the tinted windows, before she looked back at Carter, confused.

  “Why are we in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Sweetheart, after things happened with Zach, there were weeks when I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.”

  What did Zach have to do with any of this?

  He drew in a deep breath. “I promised your dad I’d take care of you, and I’d let this cretin worm his way into your heart. After the wedding, even after I punched his stupid, dumb ass, I still felt like I could have done more, like I should have done more to protect you.”

  “Oh Carter,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your lapse in judgment. Anyway, did Nathan and Nick ever tell you about the time they caught up with him outside of a bar in the city?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head.

  She smirked. “Probably best that you don’t know. Anyway it was around a year after the wedding and I got several picture texts from Zach at three o’clock in the morning.”

  “What did my boys have to do with this?”

  She pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a laugh. “Well, let’s just say that those selfies weren’t exactly his idea. He had a busted lip, a black eye, and a gash under his cheek. One of the pictures was with Nathan and Nick on each side of him, their arms around his neck, like they were old buddies…except they were the only ones smiling.”

  Carter tried to look disapproving, but he failed miserably.

  He cleared his throat. “ Anyway, my boys love you as much as Laura and I do. You’re family. But back to the guilt, it was your mother who told me to get over myself.”

  “Huh?”

  “Jeannie had flown up to New York to check on you, and you weren’t feeling up to going out, so Laura and I took her out to dinner after a show. I had a couple of whiskeys, and by the end of the night, you were all we talked about.

  She was devastated for you, sweetheart. She knew I was just as devastated, but she told me something I hadn’t thought of before. She pointed out that even if your dad was alive, no one could have stopped you from getting together with Zach. You’ve got a heart of gold, doll, but you’re stubborn as a fucking mule sometimes.”

  She laughed at that, but sobered quickly. “Carter, I hate that you felt guilty. And you’re right. That was a lesson I had to learn on my own, and if you guys—even if Daddy was alive, and he wasn’t supportive, it probably would have made me that much more drawn to Zach,” she smiled ruefully.

  “And then this Lucas character, and that debacle—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Lucas Sinclair,” she said quickly, interrupting him before he could go any further.

  He examined her face so carefully, she felt like an insect under a magnifying glass. “What?”

  Her tone wasn’t defensive.

  It was not.

  The shake of his head was slight, but his expression was gentle. “You, Sophie—my dear, you are going to be just fine. Just wonderful, in fact. Here is where we’ll part ways for now.”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “You have some decisions to make, sweetheart. I have some reading material that I’ll leave with you.”

  He handed her an envelope, and soundlessly, she took it.

  What the hell was going on?

  “I already have a letter from Dad for today,” she said, confused.

  “Read it. I know you’ll make the right decision.”

  Huh?

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before patting her face. “Ok sweetheart, my part is done. You’ll be fine, you’ll be amazing, don’t worry.”

  Panic flared when he reached for his car handle to open the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He just winked at her. “I don’t think you’ll want me around for later. After you’re done reading, just let the driver know where you want to go.”

  With that, he slipped out of the car and shut the door.

  Bewildered, she was helpless to do anything else but stare at the envelope in her hand as he vanished. It was blank – no number or witty phrase or code. The paper heavy cream vellum unlike the plain envelopes her father normally used in his letters.

  She sighed heavily and used a fingernail to ease the flap of the top envelope open.

  And when she saw her name greeted in bold scrawl, she stopped breathing.

  My dear Sophie…my love,

  I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am about the scene that happened at the hotel. I know it’s been some time, but I needed to give it to you. I know what you think, and I can’t blame you…

  The first time I saw you wasn’t at that bar. I know you think it was, and if you’d known the truth, you’d maybe have thrown something more substantial than a vibrator at my head.

  Just kidding…

  Yes, I was with Zach’s sister, Monica. We were together for far too long, but it was on and off. The connection I had with you, I never experienced with her. Monica was convenient and fit easily into my lifestyle.

  But she didn’t want me, and somewhere deep down, I knew that too. It’s why I couldn’t give myself completely over to her.

  I met Zach in college, and shortly after, I met his sister. I always felt like he was a snake, but before too long, Monica and I were dating seriously, and he was a part of her life that I chose to accept.

  After she cheated on me the first time, I broke things off. She came back to me, crying and remorseful, and I took her back, but things had changed too much to ever be the same.

  We were constantly on and off. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but it was more physical than anything else.

  And even the physicality was empty.

  I first saw your face; your laughing, smiling, beautiful face after you and Zach had gotten engaged. He had a picture of you in his office, and I’d stopped by for lunch.

  You were smiling at the camera, laughing at something Zach had probably said. I guess it was windy because the wind blew the strands of your hair in different directions, but you seemed to not care—unlike all the other women I’d met, except my sister and my mother, who needed to be perfect all the time.

  You lived in the moment.

  It’s burned in my memory, the way your beautiful lips stretched into a smile. Your eyes were dark, but they shined like diamonds all the same.

  You were happiness, goodness, and beauty in one irresistible package.

  I never forgot that image.

  After I saw your image, it was seared in my brain. For the last four years, you’ve been the first thing I’ve seen in the morning, even before I open my eyes. I don’t think I need to tell you you’re the last thought in my mind when I shut them at night.

  You never met me, because shortly afterwards, Monica and I broke up.

  When I realized it was you in the bar that night, I couldn’t believe my luck.

  My dream girl.

  That’s what you are.

  You were my dream girl, ready and ripe for the taking.

  But how could I even begin to explain?

  Four months before we met, I’d had an encounter with Monica. We always used protection, but she claimed a pregnancy resulted. I thought I was doing the right thing when I asked her to
marry me. We’d known each other for so long, and I never suspected that she would lie to me.

  I trusted her, but I was wrong.

  Monica felt desperate to nail me down. She confessed this to Sean one evening while they were both in London. They were at a bar, both drinking.

  When Sean came back and told me what had happened, I knew she’d lied…and I’d fallen easily for it.

  By then, we’d met, but I promise you, we hadn’t done anything yet. That was why I went back to London – to break things off with her. She confessed the pregnancy was made up, and Sophie, my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

  I was free to be with you.

  I swear to you, when we were together for the first time, I belonged to no one else but you.

  I belonged to you years before.

  But that first time, that night you came apart and alive in my arms – I was there as myself. A man consumed with need for one woman.

  An unattached man.

  You have to believe that.

  But how would I even begin to explain that we were connected from before? At the risk of sounding like a creep or a stalker, I kept it to myself, naively thinking that the right time would present itself.

  When Zach showed up, it was to transfer assets I had loaned to him as collateral four years ago back to me. Any claims he had about businesses that I took over was a result of the money he owed me.

  And I didn’t take them back out of spite, Sophie. I did it to save jobs of the people that would be unemployed when those businesses went under, which they inevitably would have.

  I have so much more to explain to you.

  I know that.

  I wish I could freeze the time we were happy and live in those moments forever. I wish I could stop the world from turning on its axis, and just stay with you. I remember everything. Every laugh, every moan, every gasp, every look.

  Every single moment I spent inside your beautiful body was a gift. Each time you touched me, I burned brighter. Every time I heard the sound of your laughter, I could swear I heard an angel sing.

  You are my everything.

  I would rather be paralyzed in time, motionless, with you than move on to a future with someone else.

  If only it were as simple as tearing the hands off a clock.

  Nothing worth having is every an easy journey. My father always tells me that, but you know what—even if it had been easy with us, you’re worth ten of me. You, my beautiful, amazing Sophie, are a part of my heart.

  Quite simply, my love, you fucking own me.

  I’m waiting for you. If you want to come to me, all you have to do is let Harry know.

  Love,

  Lucas

  She’d stopped breathing by the time she finished reading the letter, certain that she was about to pass out.

  “Harry?” she whispered weakly.

  The window between the passenger seats and the driver rolled down.

  “Yes, Miss Harlow?”

  She wanted to laugh at his formality, this man who was dating her mother, but it was impossible in that moment.

  “Take me to Lucas, please.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He missed her so goddamned much, it physically ached.

  Would she come?

  He glanced at his watch again, and shut his eyes, hoping and praying that she would give him—give them another chance.

  “Another drink?”

  He looked down at his glass, noting that the amber colored whiskey had dwindled to where it barely covered the bottom of the glass. He’d never needed liquid courage before, but he was tempted.

  It probably wasn’t a good idea to get wasted right now. He needed all his wits about him.

  He needed to close the biggest deal of his life.

  He shook his head no, giving the bartender a small smile.

  At least he thought it was a smile. Any facial expressions he made these days just felt like facial contortions with little or no emotion behind them.

  He checked his watch again. Only a few minutes had ticked by, but it felt like an eternity.

  He would wait forever for her, but if she didn’t show up within the next few hours, he’d tell the bartender to just give him the whole fucking bottle.

  What if she didn’t show up?

  Or worse, what if she came and told him to shove his intentions where the sun didn’t shine?

  Similar thoughts kept repeating in his brain, on a continuous loop. It could have been ten minutes or an hour that passed, so lost he was in his mind.

  He bent his head to check his watch once more, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Then several things happened all at once.

  A rush of cold air swept into the empty bar, and he stilled. Barely breathing, he remained frozen, unable to raise his head and look. He couldn’t bear to look.

  Although the low from finding out he was wrong would be nothing compared to the gaping hole in his heart if he lost her completely.

  Footsteps sounded, nearing closer to him. The click-clack of heels across the hardwood floors.

  Her scent drifted over him, light and clean with a touch of honeysuckle.

  He’d enjoyed tasting it on her skin, on those days when she’d stay in bed with him. Long, lazy days where he could spend time at his leisure, running his lips over each plane of her smooth, supple body.

  “Lucas.”

  At the sound of her voice, sweet and soft with a touch of uncertainty, he looked up finally.

  And he fell in love all over again.

  It happened each time he looked at her without fail. He’d fall a little deeper, a little harder.

  Except he hadn’t seen her in what felt like eternity, so this time as he soaked up the sight of her beautiful face, he fell so hard it felt like he’d jumped off a building and crashed into concrete, heart-first.

  “You came.” His voice sounded gritty and harsh. Hoarse and thirsty.

  The empty vacancy he’d felt the moment she’d walked out vanished the instant he saw her. He studied every pixel of her beloved face, searching for answers.

  “The bar is empty.” She looked around, nervously, as though it made her uneasy to be around him alone.

  “I rented it for the day.”

  “I was surprised Harry brought me here,” she said, looking down at her hands.

  He slipped off the bar stool and pulled the one closest to him out, gesturing for her. “Will you have a seat?” he croaked.

  Shit, he hadn’t even sounded like that when he was going through puberty.

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip, but she nodded, shrugging her coat off and folding it in half in her arms, before she settled herself on the stool.

  The bartender appeared from nowhere. “Would you like a drink?”

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She looked like she’d happily down a bottle of tequila, but she requested a glass of shiraz. A few moments later, the bartender slid a generous glass in front of her before disappearing once more.

  Even though he’d been specific about his expectations, he was nonetheless thankful for the discretion.

  If this was the worst moment of his life, he wanted no witnesses to his pain and suffering.

  And if it was the best, then he selfishly wanted it all to himself.

  She sipped at her wine, not meeting his eyes.

  Okay. He could deal with that. He deserved it, after all. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to start the conversation.

  But then she spoke, her voice soft and sweet. It felt like being coated in honey, listening to her. “How’ve you been?”

  He looked at her.

  Small talk or the ugly truth?

  “Truthfully?”

  He paused, taking in a deep breath before going all or nothing.

  “I’ve been a fucking disaster.”

  She inhaled sharply at his words, and she jerked her head up so she could meet his eyes so fast, she was sure she’d g
otten whiplash.

  It was hard, sitting here next to him.

  Not being able to touch him.

  Not feeling his touch on her.

  When she’d asked Harry to take her to him, she hadn’t known what to expect.

  From him or from her.

  During the drive, she weaved in and out of possible outcomes.

  Maybe she’d see him and tell him to go take a friendly jump off a cliff or maybe she would run straight into his arms, and they’d ride off into the sunset. Even though she hadn’t looked at the letter since she’d finished reading it, bits and pieces floated in her consciousness.

  I couldn’t believe my luck…My dream girl.

  I would rather be paralyzed in time, motionless, with you than move on to a future with someone else.

  Quite simply, my love, you fucking own me.

  When they were together, she’d guessed at his affection because she could see it in his eyes.

  The way he handled her body with reverence and care, even while he was roughly fucking her senseless.

  But he’d lied—whether by omission or directly, she knew from experience that once trust was damaged, it was difficult to repair.

  But after reading his words, it would be difficult to walk away from him.

  To walk away from them.

  She’d had yet another shock when she stepped out of the car after Harry opened the door. Only one foot was on the sidewalk when she looked up and her mouth dropped open.

  It was the bar where she’d met him for the first time.

  Harry coughed into his hand, and she finally closed her mouth, turning to look at him.

  It should have been strange. This man could quite possibly become her stepfather, and the fact that he had Jeannie Harlow tittering and blushing like a schoolgirl and moving halfway across the country, the air between them should have been forced, cautious.

  But his bright eyes smiled at her, and he spoke for the second time since he’d rolled down the window.

  “He’s a good man, Miss Harlow. Give him a chance.” He nodded at her before he shut the door behind her.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to call her Sophie again, but she knew she was stalling.