All the Wrong Choices

by C. A. Harms

  "It was what he wanted, what he needed, and since that was the life I'd lived with my mother, I didn't see the wrong in it. I forced myself to believe I was happy, that I had a good relationship, and I was meant to be with him. I was blind, and I spent our entire relationship blind." Now looking back, I can honestly say I was oblivious, gullible, and ridiculous.

  "After the disaster of a wedding, and before I met you, I guess I got a taste of my freedom for the first time in a long time. I refused to go back to living a life where I had to be something or someone I wasn't. I liked having opinions and needs I could express."

  "I'd never expect you to be anything you're not."

  "I know," cupping his jaw, I lean in and place a soft, brief kiss on his lips. "I'd convinced myself giving in and being in a relationship not just with you but with anyone meant I'd be forced to become that person again. After what I went through, I never wanted to go back to that place in my life, go back to being that person."

  "I fell in love with the crazy, sassy, bossy, and sexy girl I met at the restaurant."

  "Like I said," shrugging, knowing I have no other way to explain my actions, "I was an idiot."

  "Not an idiot, just stubborn," Jonah smirks, and I don't attempt to argue. Instead, I laugh because it's true. "And let me just add, I love all the dresses you wear." I know he does; he'd told me often.

  "I ruined what we could be."

  "What do you mean, what we could be?" He narrows his eyes at me playfully. "We will be because I don't care how hard you try to get away from me this time. I'm never letting you go again."

  "I don't want to run away," I want to hit the gas and speed ahead. I want it all with Jonah, the delirious love, the house, the kids, the laughs, and even the arguments, as long as they are with him. I will plant my feet firmly and fight like hell. As long as at the end of the day, I'm in his arms where I feel safe.

  "Then this time, things should be a whole hell of a lot less messy for us." He adds before turning his body to mine and hooking my waist, pulling me around him and onto his lap.

  With his face mere inches from mine, I move in and press my lips to his—a soft, gentle kiss. Feeling his tongue trace along the seam of my lips triggers the desire in me. Parting my own, I accept his tongue, and suddenly a heat fills me I haven't felt in weeks. I was moving around on his lap, so I am now straddling him. I honestly feel like I can't get close enough. I need desperately to be surrounded by him, to be consumed by him fully.

  "I've missed you so much," he confesses. "Even when I tried to stop thinking about you, you were always there. You filled my mind, my dreams. At the worst times, you'd reappear, and each time I'd feel like I was right back in that foyer where you were walking away from me."

  He tried to forget me. His words are repeatedly ringing in my head, and the heaviness it triggers causes me to withdraw from him. I don't have the right to feel the things I'm feeling.

  "What's wrong?" He asks, cupping my face and holding me close. "What did I say?"

  "Nothing," it's more of what his words made me think. Another woman in his arms, at his side, kissing his lips. The intimate way he'd feel her. And, in turn, allow her to touch him. It all makes my stomach coil and my throat grow tight.

  "Baby, talk to me."

  "It's none of my business," I have no right to feel this way; I left him.

  When I attempt to move off of him, he grips my hips and holds me in place. "You have every right," he declares with fierceness, "what is it?"

  I hang my head, trying to hide the uncertainty and jealousy I now feel. When I lift my chin once again, and he sees me, he knows.

  "We dated, but it was never more than that."

  I try to look away, feeling nothing but shame I've even let this come up. Jonah doesn't owe me an explanation or an excuse. I have no right to feel jealous. I left, I walked away. If he'd slept with her, it was his business and not my own.

  "Heather and I were more friends than anything," placing his forehead to my own. He closes his eyes and cups the back of my neck firmly. "A few kisses, and that was it. I couldn't sleep with her Dani, every time I touched her, it felt wrong."

  Tears spring to my eyes, and I close them quickly, trying to hide them from him. The idea of him touching anyone other than me or vice versa is hard to imagine.

  "I love you, baby. I didn't stop because we weren't together."

  I nod my head, and even when he takes my lips once more in a settling kiss, I can't look at him. The jealous feelings I'm having are not warranted; they aren't my right. But even those thoughts don't make them go away.

  For the past couple of days, things have felt off between Jonah and I. He's hovering, and I catch him staring at me often as if he thinks I might fall apart at any moment. I wouldn't say I like the way he's been tiptoeing around. It's unnerving, and part of me wants to go back to my apartment to gain some much-needed distance, but leaving him is also equally unsettling, so instead, I've stayed.

  I pick at the food on my plate, not because it isn't amazing but because my appetite is pretty much nonexistent. I hadn't eaten a good meal in days, weeks even. My daily diet consisted of wine, wine, and more wine, with the occasional cracker or a few pieces of cheese. Once in a while, I'd tossed in a bit of toast if I was feeling adventurous.

  Since the beginning of the trouble with Jonah and I, I'd lost over fifteen pounds. I know it doesn't seem like a lot, but when you're five-four and around one hundred and thirty pounds on an average day, it's very noticeable. I look sickly. I'm well aware.

  "Did you want something else?" I look up to find Jonah looking at me from across the table. He'd ordered one of everything from my favorite Italian restaurant already, so it's not like I don't have a variety. I have gotten so full so fast the idea of another bite makes me feel nauseous.

  "No, this is great," I lowered my fork to the plate, the clicking noise it creates sounding much louder than I anticipated. I'm so jumpy, and I hate feeling this way. I don't like being some frail girl in his eyes. I want him to be Jonah, the hungry man who has no problem touching me or devouring me. I miss the desire in his eyes when he'd see me. I miss the heat between us and the way he used to stare at me. You could almost see the shift from calm to hungry before he'd react. I want to feel beautiful again, feel like he can't get enough of me. But instead, all I see is pity and sadness.

  "I'm stuffed," I confess.

  He nods, looking away from me and back to his plate like he thinks I'm lying but doesn't want to argue.

  "Jonah," he doesn't look at me right away, which seems to trigger an irritation inside me I didn't know was there. "I've barely eaten lately, and I get full faster. It's not that I'm starving myself or something."

  Again he nods.

  I push back my chair and stand from the table, which finally makes him lift his gaze to meet mine. "You can stop treating me like I'm brittle. Stop waiting for me to fall apart. Like I said, dinner was great, thank you."

  Turning around, I walk toward his bedroom feeling my hands shake at my sides. I don't want to cry, but I can feel the struggle within me to not fall apart.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To shower," once I reach his room, I shut the door quietly and lean my back against it for a few seconds trying to breathe through my heartache and frustration.

  Finding some control, I move into the bathroom, closing that door too. I reach inside the shower to turn it on. Jonah's shower is like a spa, large enough for a group and multiple shower heads surrounding you. It's perfection.

  I lower my shorts, lift my shirt off and remove my bra and panties. Placing them into a small pile on the corner seat near the vanity, I turn and begin walking to the shower. Catching my reflection in the tall mirror, I pause and stare at myself.

  Hip bones peek out on my sides, my stomach though flat before now, appears more sunk inward, making my ribs more evident. My shoulders and collarbone stand out more, and my cheek bones are more prominent. The dark circles under my eyes make me look as
though I haven't slept in days. I'm hideous. No wonder Jonah looks at me the way he does.

  Wiping away the tears from my eyes, I step into the shower and close the door behind me.

  I stand under the warm water so long my skin begins to look like a prune. At one point, Jonah pokes his head inside the bathroom, but thankfully, the steam has fogged up the doors, and I'm nothing more than a blur.

  When I finally get out of the shower, he's already in bed, lying flat on his back with his arm laying over his face. Sneaking across the bedroom, I disappear inside his long narrow walk-in closet and begin searching the racks for anything to wear.

  After deciding on a much too large navy hoodie, I find a pair of boxers in his top drawer and hurry to cover myself. The boxer briefs are too big, and I use my hair tie to make a knot to keep them where they should be.

  Entering the room once more, I pull back the blankets and slide beneath them, doing my best not to wake him.

  Curling onto my side, I bring my knees up toward my chest and tuck my hands under the pillow beneath my head. I'm finally beginning to relax, only seconds from falling to sleep when I feel Jonah move behind me. Then his arm comes over my side, hooking me around the waist, and I'm being pulled back to his chest.

  I hold my breath, bracing myself for yet another lecture or round of how worried he is. I can't take it, I'm exhausted, and I want to sleep off the unsettled feeling and hope for a better day tomorrow.

  I feel so raw.

  "It scares me we can't get back to where we were," his confession causes my chest to grow even tighter. "Promise me we'll get there, Dani."

  I take in a slow deep shuddering breath feeling myself caving.

  "Promise me," he asks again, and I want to be able to promise him more than anything, but a part of me is scared that we will never be who we once were.

  Silence fills the room, and together we lay in the same position, neither saying another word. Both of us fall asleep with uncertainty in our hearts.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jonah

  I wake up hearing, we’ll make it, it's nothing more than a whisper, but I hear it clear. I open my eyes to a dark room, the sound of Danielle breathing softly next to me. I turn toward her and freeze when I see she is facing me, her eyes open and using a tissue to wipe her cheeks.

  "What?"

  "I said we'll make it," she repeats, and I slide very carefully toward her, needing to be closer. It's dark, yes, but I can see the uncertainty in her features, the way she worries her lip and looks away from me when my eyes lock with hers.

  "Dani, what's going on? Talk to me, tell me. Do you want this? Me?"

  "Yes," I hear the shuddering sound when she takes in a deep breath. "It hurts me to know you don't look at me the same as you once did."

  I am moving to her, quickly rolling my body over hers partially as she rolls onto her back. Still avoiding looking directly at me, and it bothers me more than I could ever say.

  "I know I disgust you, and you don't want me the way you used to—"

  "Hey," I hold her face in my hands, "no, no, no. Dani, baby, no."

  Again she shudders and, seeing how upset she is, is killing me. "Is that really what you think, that I don't want you?"

  "You can't even look at me."

  "I can't look at you? I can't take my eyes off you."

  "Only because you're afraid I'm about to self-destruct." Lifting her hands, she puts them over mine. "You used to look at me like I was all you saw, and even though I pretended it meant nothing, it meant everything. I loved the way you looked at me. I loved how just one glance from you made me feel so alive."

  "I still see you that way."

  "No, you don't; I know I lost weight, I know I'm a train wreck, but—" I stop her by pressing my lips to hers in a searing kiss. How can she think for a second I'm not attracted to her? She's right about the weight, but she is still the same girl who made me feel like I was burning from the inside out. I have never felt the kind of attraction I feel for Danielle toward anyone else.

  Since this is confession time, and she's managed to tell me what her fears are, I figure now is my time to lay it out there. If we are going to get through this, we have to start somewhere.

  "I'm afraid if I say the wrong thing, you'll run." She opens her eyes and looks directly at me. "I've been all-in with you from the start, but you didn't want that. So I've been conditioned to accept only the little you can give me. I think I'm still playing that role. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

  "I'm not gonna run," I want to believe her. "I need you. I didn't know how much until I no longer had you. But I need you to see me. I need you to be the same guy you were that night in the restaurant. I need you to want me the way you did then, and I need you not to hold back when you want something. I don't want either of us to hold back."

  Dani stares at me, her gaze penetrating every ounce of fear I have.

  "I need you to want me," she repeats slower, refusing to take her eyes off me.

  "I do want you," more than anything.

  "Then show me," I know what she's asking, and I continue to crawl over her, covering her completely. Her legs part, and I slip perfectly between them. My body is already reacting to the feel of her against me, the way it always has.

  "You are all I want," So much it's crippling. I crave Dani. I need her.

  Slipping my hand beneath the heavy sweatshirt she is wearing, she shivers when I slid my palm over her side. Farther and farther, I grip the material and begin to lift it up and over her head.

  Instantly her nipples harden and press against my chest. My heart races, my body hums with adrenaline as it courses through me in a controlling wave.

  Quickly I seek out her mouth, needing to kiss her. "No one has ever made me feel the way you do," and that is the truth. I’d never been consumed to the point of no control, and Danielle does that to me. From the start, I was in over my head with her, knowing resisting her was impossible. The pull I feel towards her when we are together it's uncontrollable, and it has not faded. I think it's magnified to the point of addiction.

  Dani slips her hand between us, gripping my growing erection, and slowly begins to move her hand up and down, taking my breath away. I let her have her feel, my stomach tightening with intense lust as I enjoy the satisfaction on her face.

  Thrusting my hips forward, I push into her hand and watch as she bites her lip and arches into me. Her hips are rising as if to tell me she needs more.

  Hurriedly I grip my boxers, lowering them, and then grab for hers only to pause. Looking down between us and then back to Dani, I find her smiling. "Babe, are you wearing my boxers?"

  "I don't have any clothes here," she giggles, and I fucking love the sound of her happiness. I've never missed anything more than I've missed her laughter and beautiful smile.

  "That's hot," I confess with a smile. My clothes on Danielle provide me with a sense of possessiveness. This woman is mine, mind, body, and soul.

  Moving down her body, I take my boxers off her on the way. Kissing over her thighs, from one hip to the other, then one last one directly below her belly button. I look up to find Dani watching me, practically panting with need.

  Without taking my eyes off hers, I slowly glide my tongue over her. I feel like pounding on my chest when she moans loudly and pushes her wetness against my mouth. She's on fire.

  I take my time tasting her, teasing her, and driving her crazy. But the truth is, I love doing this to her as much as she loves receiving it. When she reaches down and grips the back of my head, thrusting forward as she tugs the ends of my hair, I know she's close.

  It has been far too long since I've had her at my mercy, far too long since my beautiful girl has been in my arms.

  Reaching her peak, I continue to suck on her until she screams my name and her back arched off the bed. Nothing is more satisfying than seeing her in this state. She’s ultimately lost to her pleasure, taking what she needs without shame.

 
; Moving up her body, again, I leave a trail of kisses along the way. I love how soft she is, how silky her body feels to mine. Pausing near her chest to gently suck on one nipple and then the other, she writhes beneath me.

  When I'm hovering above her, the head of my erection pushing against her, she looks up at me, and I pause. Her eyes are glossy, and I start to panic until she speaks.

  "I love you," she whispers, placing one hand on my chest and the other on my hip.

  "Because of what I can do for you," I tease, and she shakes her head.

  "No," suddenly, she is nothing but serious. "I love you because you are the greatest man I know and because you make me feel whole again."

  Pushing inside of her slowly, completely seated, I pause and lower my entire body over hers. I brush back the hair from her face, wanting nothing to obstruct my view of her. With one elbow propping the weight of my body from completely crushing her, I cup her face with the other and lower my lips to hers. Our tongues mingle, our mouths moving in sync. Many things are spoken with just one kiss; there is no need for words.

  Slowly pulling out of her, she moans into our kiss, and I begin to move.

  "I love you too, baby," I whisper near her ear, getting so lost in the way she feels. "You're it for me," these aren't just words spoken in the heat of passion; they are my reality. I'm so incredibly in love with Danielle that time will not weaken that connection. Forgetting her is impossible. This gorgeous girl entering my life changed me. She is part of me, a part I never want to lose.

  I wake to an empty bed and quickly sit up, looking around the room. Hurrying to get up, I practically trip over the covers as they tangle around my body.

  I jog down the hallway toward the kitchen, the smell of something cooking filling the space as I skid to a stop.

  Standing at the stove, wearing my sweatshirt, which falls mid-thigh, is Dani with her back to me. The soft sound of music plays from the surround sound speakers, and she's yet to notice me standing there.