With my hands gripping the edges of the doorframe, I take in the contents of the closet and realize that I never could have done anything but cry in this space. Over half of the belongings in here are Mark’s, left utterly untouched since the last time he was here. I wander inside, brushing my fingers over the fabric of his clothing, the silk of his ties, and the leather of his belts. How can I move on when I’m constantly submerged in the past? I step back and take in the rest of my bedroom and see it as if I’m looking at it for the first time. It’s exactly the same as when I shared it with Mark.
“It’s time,” I say to myself.
I head back downstairs with renewed purpose, ignoring my sore muscles. After digging through the basement I find a handful of unused boxes and grab a bunch of garbage bags before heading back upstairs. I find a 90’s R&B station on Pandora, blast the music and gather my thoughts on where to start. I decide that most of the clothes, aside from a few memorable pieces, can be donated to Goodwill.
One by one, I carefully pull Mark’s shirts and slacks from the hangers, allowing myself to indulge in memories associated with each item, and fold them neatly in a pile. Although I promised myself that there’d be no more crying in this room, the tears being shed now are a different kind. They feel good, cathartic even.
Before long, what used to be Mark’s half of the closet is empty and I’ve filled six bags for donation. I load the bags in my car, and then grab a glass of water and head back upstairs to finish what I’ve started. I head over to his side of the bed and focus on a pile of Mark’s things that haven’t been touched since the last morning he was home. I pick up his watch, the one I gave him for our 5th wedding anniversary, and gently place it in a box after wrapping it with tissue paper, thinking how nice it will look on Colin when he’s bigger. I wrap several more items from his nightstand and place them in the same box. When I’m satisfied that I’ve saved the important pieces of memorabilia, I take a garbage bag and get started on the things I can throw away. Such as the supersized container of TUMS, a few cigars that never made it to the humidor and the stack of magazines he hadn’t even begun to read.
Knowing that there are more items like these, I head into the bathroom and toss his toothbrush, shaving gel, razor and every other toiletry that I saved, into the garbage bag.
When I’ve finished the bedroom, bathroom and closet I stare at all the insignificant things I’ve accumulated and bagged. Why the hell did I save all of this stuff? Did I think that by keeping momentums of him it would undo what had happened, make it less real? My inability to let go has been so unhealthy for far too long, and I’m both amazed and disappointed that I didn’t realize it until now.
No wonder I felt guilty.
I tie the last bag and toss it into the hallway and head back inside, taking in all the space. Purging Mark’s belongings was hard, but it feels right. I can breathe.
As if it’s second nature, my hand automatically reaches for the gem of my necklace. Instead of twirling it between my fingers, I undo the clasp and walk into the closet. I find the silver jewelry box, place it inside next to my wedding ring and then set the box snuggly in a drawer. Now, this room is complete. I almost feel as if I’ve made room for the important memories to remain, while creating a space for new ones to begin.
Satisfied with my efforts, I link my hands together overhead and stretch. Good lord, I need a shower, or better yet, a bath.
I grab a fresh towel and walk towards the bathroom just as a song by one of my favorite groups starts playing. I listen to the words and laugh at how perfect the gist of the song fits my situation with Drew. He may not know this song, and he may not listen to it if he had a choice, but I decide it can’t hurt to give him the option. I quickly download the song, ‘Crazy’ by K-Ci and JoJo, and type out a text with some of the lyrics. It’s by no means as romantic as the CD he made me, but at least he’ll know that I’m thinking about him, and if I’m really lucky, even laugh.
I fill the tub and overload it with bubble bath. I check my phone to see if Drew’s texted me back, and then I remember that he’s on a flight across the country and likely won’t see it until later. I exit my texts and notice the time as I place my phone on the counter. It’s been two hours since Drew’s flight took off. Two hours would put him right over Ohio in approximately the same location where our flight went down. My heart rate spikes and I quickly try to bring Google up on my phone. When it doesn’t load immediately, I remember that if anything had happened, I would have heard about it by now due to the alerts I subscribe to.
Be strong and stop worrying. Just let it go, Breanne.
Feeling somewhat less anxious, I turn off the water, grab a gel eye masks and sink into the bubbles. I descend as far into the tub as physically possible and close my eyes, letting myself imagine a world in which Drew and I are together and blissfully happy. Without meaning to, I recall our brief kiss this morning and brush my fingertips across my lips, swearing it left an imprint. A lone tear rolls down my face and all I can think is—I really hope that wasn’t our last kiss.
A knock at the door pulls me from my silent prayer. Realizing Sarah is back and will be curious about what transpired at the airport, I pull the shower curtain shut and tell her it’s ok to come in.
“How was your visit with the attorney?” I ask.
“Probably what you’d expect,” she groans. “Hopefully your morning was better.”
“Probably not,” I mutter.
“I see you’ve done some cleaning.”
“It was time,” I admit. “So do you want to talk about your day?”
“I’d rather hear about yours,” she laughs. “We can wait until you’re done in here if you’d like some privacy. I just wanted to let you know that Vivian dropped of a package for you right after you left with the kids this morning, and something else came for you a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, ok. Thanks,” I reply. “Actually, do you mind hanging out for a few minutes? I do want to talk. I need to come up with a plan for what I’m going to do about Drew.”
“Oh?” she asks.
“Yeah, this morning didn’t go so well.”
I give Sarah a high-level overview of what transpired at the airport. When I’ve finished, I ask her what she’d do in my situation and she seems as stumped as I am.
“No bright ideas? I could really use your wisdom.”
“If I were you, I would start thinking about what you’ll do the next time you come face-to-face with him.”
“If that ever happens,” I drone.
“Breanne,” she says, her tone encouraging me to have some faith.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. The thing is, if I want to see him again and prove to him that I’m serious about how I feel, I may have to fly to California because he apparently won’t be coming back.”
“Is that something you’re prepared to do?” she asks.
“Without a doubt.”
Sarah starts to say something but pauses.
“I know you think I’m crazy, Sarah. You probably think getting on a plane in an attempt to win him back is stupid, but I have to do something.” Sarah’s loudly exhales, followed by the sound of her taking a seat on the edge of the tub, making me think she does think I’m being irrational.
“Alright so maybe I am crazy. If you have a better idea let me know…I’ve got nothing. I’ve texted, called, written, shown up unannounced. I’ve tried and failed. I need him to listen to me. Although it doesn’t excuse the way I treated him, I need him to understand why I reacted the way I did. I just want him to listen so I can tell him how sorry I am; I need a chance to show him that I am ready to move on and that he’s the only person I want to do that with.
“I want to go to every single one of his home games and cheer him on. I want to spend holidays with him because he’s already a part of this family. I want to wake up next to him and fall asleep in his arms…I want to be his future. I want to make him as happy as he’s made me, and to take care of him.” I star
t getting choked up and groan in frustration. “Ugh! I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore because I have no one to blame but myself. I just…I need to figure out the best way to prove to him that trusting me with his heart won’t result in me breaking him. And it would be helpful if he wasn’t so freaking stubborn! I apologized as much as I could, but I doubt anything I said sunk in. What the hell am I going to, Sarah? I love him so much.”
A metallic dragging noise overhead, followed by a rush of cool air, catches me off guard. “Sarah?” I gasp, pulling my knees up and folding my arms across my chest, as it registers that the shower curtain has been pulled open. “What the—”.
While one hand attempts to cover my exposed breasts, the other hand flies to lift the mask from my eyes, but is caught mid-air. I feel my body being pulled slightly forward and then my hijacked hand is pressed against strong pectoral muscles that can’t possibly belong to Sarah. My breath catches as I make sense of what’s going on. With my free hand I tentatively uncover my eyes and choke out a weird sound that is a combination of a cry and a squeal.
“You’re here,” I say quietly, to which Drew nods.
“And I heard everything.”
“You were listening,” I say in disbelief.
“Every word,” he winks. He brings my hand to his lips and gently kisses it before placing it over his heart. “All yours.”
Though my entire body is shaking, I can’t fight the need to touch him. I fist his shirt for leverage to pull myself out of the tub. He’s here. He really here. I’m so insanely excited. My balance is off causing me to slip and Drew to fall into the tub with me. We’re facing each other on our sides. Half of his body is soaked and covered with bubbles, while the other half awkwardly hangs partway out of the tub. I throw my head back and erupt with laughter, feeling happy for the first time in days.
“You think this is funny?” Drew asks, failing to downplay his own humor.
Resting my forehead against his when I’m able to contain myself, I tighten my hold around his neck and shake my head no. “No, this isn’t funny. It’s amazing.”
“My clothes are soaked.”
“I have a dryer.”
“I’ll have to walk around naked in the meantime,” he says as if I’d find the idea appalling.
Smirking, I toss my leg over his hip and shift my weight so that I’m straddling him. Drew runs his lip across his lower lip, the intensity behind his hooded gaze turning my stomach in knots. He shifts his body so that he’s fully submerged and grabs my hips. His eyes slowly run down my body, and I swear I can feel the heat of his stare igniting every inch of my flesh.
“I can think of worse things.”
I quickly find the hemline of his drenched shirt and inch it up his body, lift it over his head and toss it on the floor. I giggle at the ‘thwack’ sound it makes upon hitting the ground, but don’t allow it to distract me from the magnificent specimen below me. Drew’s hands purposefully push up from my hips, slowly traveling up my torso until they land at their destination. He cups my breasts, massaging them more aggressively. Leaning forward, I press my palms into his chiseled abs, giving him better access, and thank my lucky stars that this man came back.
My head instinctively falls back on a moan, followed by a gasp, as Drew repositions himself and takes one of my nipples in his mouth. The sensation is electrifying, increasing my need to feel every inch of him. I lift my hips, breaking Drew’s suction, and yank down the top of his warm-up pants, freeing his erection in the process. I take a moment to appreciate him in his entirety before slamming my mouth against his.
Grasping both sides of his face with my hands I lower myself back onto him, dragging my sex up and down his length.
“I don’t have a condom. Please tell me you’re on the pill,” he pants, breaking our kiss. We’ve had sex a handful of times, though all in one night, but we probably should have covered this topic before now.
“I have an IUD.”
“A what?” he pulls back, and I can’t tell if he’s confused or concerned.
“It’s a form of birth control.” Drew smirks as if he’s just won the lottery.
Knowing it’s what we both want, I tilt my hips back so that he’s positioned at my entrance and without warning, I slowly sink onto him. Holy shit my imagination did not do him justice. He forcefully grips my hips, and I nearly climax from the sexy sound he makes when he growls, literally growls, into my mouth.
Drew pulls and pushes against my hips, setting a leisurely pace as my body tries to accommodate his size. When he’s filled me completely, our mutual need takes over, and we frantically pick up speed. Water sloshes against the walls of the tub, spilling over the edge and I couldn’t care less. I love this man and no one else could ever make me feel this good. I continue to thrust against him as his hand travels between my legs, rubbing my clit. It’s not long before I’m being pushed over the edge, my orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave. As the sweet sensation of my release subsides, Drew climaxes, triggering an aftershock so strong that it can only be described as torturous pleasure.
Depleted of all of my energy, I collapse on Drew’s chest, panting like a wild animal. He gives me a weak squeeze, his breathing just as erratic as mine. I raise my head marginally until our eyes lock.
“I love you so much. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never doubt that again.”
“Me too,” he replies, shifting some fallen strands of hair out of my face. “Me too.”
My head drops to his chest and I kiss the area over his heart. We lie there, quietly wrapped up in each other for a long while, the only sounds being the involuntarily purring I make as Drew’s hands lightly stroke my lower back.
“If your hands weren’t moving I’d think you were asleep.”
“Mmmm,” he moans, as if he can’t be bothered to speak.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That you sound like a cat.”
Laughing, I playfully bite his nipple. Drew yelps and digs his fingers into my sides. “What was that for?”
“Cats creep you out.”
“Not if they sound like that,” he replies. What seems like a full minute passes by and I’m nearly asleep when Drew lets out a heavy sigh and admits, “I’m definitely a bath man.”
FOUR
Just a Number
“You’re shivering,” I say, running my hands up and down Breanne’s arms in an attempt to warm her up, as she lazily draws circles on my skin. “Are you sure you don’t want to get out?”
“Very sure.”
“At least add more hot water. I don’t want you getting sick.”
She groans, pushing off my chest like it’s the biggest burden in the world, and reaches for the faucet. Hating the loss of her body heat and the sensation of her skin against mine, I sit up as well so that her back is flush with my chest, and grab the hot water handle before she has the chance. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I’m half expecting her to make some smart comment about her being too slow for my liking, but to my surprise, she leans into me and tilts her head to the side, giving me access to her neck. I trail soft kisses from the hairline behind her ear to the center of her shoulder blade, cherishing the taste and smell of her skin, which is an intoxicating combination of vanilla and something all her own. I can’t believe I almost walked away from this for good.
Breanne’s phone pings five or six times, bringing my thoughts back to the present. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get ahold of you. Do you need to get that?”
“No, it’s just a notification.”
“Like an update for your phone?”
“Umm,” she pauses. “It’s not exactly that kind of update.”
Noticing how her body has tensed, I pull at her shoulder and shift her sideways. Her face is red and she’s avoiding making eye contact. Taking my finger to her chin, I force her to face me. When she finally meets my gaze, I raise my eyebrow and cock my head to the side. She shifts her weight a few t
imes and chews on her lip, making it impossible not to smile. What the hell has she been up to?
“When you wouldn’t return my calls or texts, I signed up for Google Alerts so that I’d be notified of any stories linked to you. It was the only thing I could think of at the time to figure out what you were doing and where you were.”
“Seriously?” I ask, amused. She covers her face and nods as a nervous laugh escapes her beautiful lips. She really did try.
Before seeing her today, I knew I’d never be the same without her in my life, but at the same time I didn’t think I had an option other than starting over somewhere new and very far away from her. I would have existed, but barely, and being here with her now confirms it. Somehow, knowing that she was in as much pain as I was, justifies what I felt.
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re stalking me.”
“I wouldn’t have had to do that if you would have just answered your phone,” she replies, not even bothering to deny what I’ve said.
“Good point, and I’m flattered. You know what they say; ‘you’re not somebody until you’ve been stalked’.”
“That’s not a saying.”
“Should be. I feel very important right now.”
“You should feel important―you’re my ‘somebody’.”
I breathe happily into her hair and squeeze her tightly. I will never take any time with her for granted. She’s it for me.
“Are you going to tell me what you read?”
I’m curious…and slightly worried.
Rundown (Curveball Book 2) Page 4
