by K. L. Kreig
I see the daughter I’ve kept from him for all these years, because of my anger, hurt, shame, and fear.
I see my entire world falling apart if he ever finds out what the hell I’ve done. There isn’t even an “if” anymore. There’s just “when.” It’s only a matter of time now. The sands of the hourglass are falling faster and faster, gravity tugging hard at the tiny grains that will lead to my demise when the last one hits bottom.
He thinks he loves me; but he will be full of nothing but hatred when the truth comes out. I’ve been racking my brain for the past two weeks on how to come clean because I know I have to. It’s time. It’s past time.
I justified my actions early on by convincing myself I wasn’t even sure she was his. But when it couldn’t be denied any longer, I came up with new excuses. He didn’t want me to begin with, so why would he want her. Hell, he didn’t even want children. That I knew for a fact. I’ve told myself I couldn’t possibly stomach his rejection again and I’d never put my daughter through his rebuff either. I’ve used his commitment issues and womanizing as rationalization to keep him away from us.
But after spending two solid days with him, all I feel now is guilt.
Profound, gut-twisting, soul-tearing, unforgivable guilt.
Guilt for my mistakes.
Guilt for sleeping with another man the night I was betrayed out of hurt, despair, and spite.
Guilt for letting pride and fear keep me from doing the right thing when it stares me in the face every single day.
Mostly, though, I feel guilt that maybe, just maybe, I’ve misjudged everything, depriving not only Connelly of his daughter but my daughter of her father.
I know it won’t matter to him once this comes out, but I actually decided to tell him. Twice before. But both times it was as if the world was working against us in the cruelest of ways again, so I left well enough alone, thinking our lives were meant to be without him.
But now. Now…
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, Nora.”
Could I have been wrong all this time? Would Connelly have wanted us? Would he have absolved my transgressions? Could I have forgiven his? Would we be the perfect happy family now had I just shown up with his daughter in tow, begging for his forgiveness?
I don’t know. I guess I never will.
A part of me has always held on to the fantasy of Connelly Colloway. That we would one day reunite. That one day he’d be mine and that maybe we’d be happy, living the life together I’d always daydreamed about.
The small part of me that still hopes for such things is the young and foolish one, the teenager who fell madly in love with an unattainable ideal of life and happiness and the man she thought was utter perfection in every way except the one that really counts.
Fidelity.
The woman in me is still irrefutably in love with Connelly, regardless of his commitment issues. I’ve never stopped, even through the hurt, pain, and cheating. My heart beats only for him. I have no hope of erasing any part of him from me without erasing a part of me, too.
But the pragmatist in me knows a life with him is not reality. All our future holds is anger, bitterness, and resentment.
As I stand here watching Zel, the one person I love more than life itself, genuine fear coils deep in my gut. Connelly will hate me once this comes to light, but I’ve never thought about the rest of the fallout. How will Zel take this news? That I’ve perhaps unfairly kept her father from her and it was all my doing. Not his. I’ve never once thought about the fact that she may not forgive me and I may lose my daughter, too.
It’s true what they say about hindsight. It slaps you square in the face with the sting of undeniable clarity. You wonder how you couldn’t have seen the answers plain as day before. And what I see right now makes me utterly sick with regret.
What have you done, Nora? What the hell have you done?
Chapter 12
Conn
I hear footsteps straining behind me on the dock, but I don’t turn. I don’t move. I take another swallow of the drink in my hand and watch my bare feet ripple the lake water with each swirl.
I love spending time at my mother’s house. Sometimes, when things get too hectic at work in the city, I just come here for a Saturday and unwind. Spend it with her. We shop the farmers market. Go to a matinee. Sit on the patio, listen to the crickets, and talk about Dad and how much we both miss him.
My childhood home is quiet and peaceful. Serene. Filled with happy memories. And this weekend it’s bursting with family since we’re having our annual “end of summer” Labor Day celebration. Even though my brothers and I all live in the same city, Gray, Asher, and I in the same downtown building even, I cherish getting together with my entire family here. Especially more now that it’s expanded with fun, spunky women who keep my brothers on their toes. I love seeing my mom interact with her daughters-in-law and coddle her new twin grandbabies, Gray’s kids.
Barb Colloway is the greatest human being on planet earth. Selfless, loving. The most forgiving person I know. I like to think I inherited a few of my good qualities from her.
The wood creaks beside me. When another pair of male feet quietly joins mine, I still don’t look. Instead, I enjoy the sun setting behind the trees and the way it makes the almost black water look like glass. It makes me ache, reminding me of Nora’s secret-filled dark eyes and how fucking much I miss them. And her.
Nora loved our lake. We spent many a night at the end of this dock hanging our feet in the water. Talking. Laughing. Flirting.
It was here she showed me the mole on the inside of her upper thigh, almost right where it meets her honeyed center. Fuck, I was achingly hard that night.
It was here she told me how she wished she wasn’t an only child. It pained me I had built-in best friends and she had no one.
It was here she told me she wanted a minivan full of kids and donated a penny to the bottom of the lake for good luck. I secretly wished I would be the one to give them to her as the copper sank out of sight.
It was here she confessed she’d always felt like a part of her was missing…until she met me. I twined our fingers together and told her I felt the same.
And as the sun set one warm evening, casting her in a golden glow that I swear to God made her look as though she’d just been dipped in light and sent down from heaven as a gift to me from The Man himself, it was here that I almost confessed I was so madly in love with her I couldn’t see straight. Instead, I kissed the shit out of her until we were breathless and lost to lust.
Jesus, she is one stubborn woman. When we first met, she wouldn’t give me the time of day. I wore her down, but it took months to move past the friend zone. She denied she felt more when I knew she did. From the word go, though, I wanted it all. I was patient when maybe I should have pushed instead. I have to wonder—if I’d pressed harder, faster, tied her heart and her body to me sooner, would she be sitting beside me now instead of my brother? And I have to wonder if it’s too late.
It’s been two weeks since the incident at SER’s welcome party. Two long, endless, torturous weeks without her face, her touch, her smart mouth. Because of the new assignment I gave her, we’ve talked on the phone a couple of times and through e-mail briefly. But she’s short, closed off. All business. It’s pissing me off for so many reasons, not the least of which are the ulcer-inducing, unfamiliar feelings I have rolling around inside of me.
Now that I’ve seen her again, tasted her again, felt her underneath me again, I’m in absolute and utter agony without her. I ache all over. But this is far more than just a fucking horrific case of blue balls. God knows I had those for the rest of the night after she fled until I could make it back to my condo and jerk off to the musky scent of her still on my hand.
No, being without her now is more than just plain old discomfort. It’s downright malaise. I feel weak, almost ill. I’m anxious and in a constant piss-poor mood. I’m miserable and, in turn, I’m making everyone around me mis
erable. Or trying my fucking hardest to.
I’m totally out of sorts. I am usually easygoing. I make people laugh. I’m the voice of reason. I’m the fucking life of the party.
But I have turned into something I swore I wouldn’t.
Pussy whipped. Just like my brothers.
And I fucking hate it.
“Beer?” Gray finally asks, handing over a frosty bottle of Sprecher’s Black Bavarian.
“Nah.” I pick up my peach Snapple and finish it off, setting the empty beside me.
“Wow, you have it pretty fucking bad, Conn. Tea leaves instead of hops or malt?”
I have no comeback, so I just shrug. It’s not often I turn down a cold brew, but I haven’t touched a lick of anything in two solid weeks that will fuck my head up any more than it already is.
I can’t. I already feel so close to the edge of desperation, the last thing I need is something to exacerbate it. So instead, I’ve been hitting the gym daily, sometimes more than once, trying to put the brakes on my fucking pity party and get my game back on track.
Nora moves to Chicago this coming week. I need to be ready, because if I feel like this now, I cannot imagine how I’ll feel if she continues to reject me. I can’t even stomach that thought. There is no world I can live in without Nora as part of it.
Getting her in my bed is proving to be a harder feat than I originally thought.
“So…the redhead is back, huh?”
I snort. “Why are you down here, Gray? I thought the fact that I bit Ash’s head off earlier when he asked me to be his errand boy would have clued you all in. I’m feeling kinda antisocial about now.”
“Drew the short end of the stick,” he deadpans.
At last, I give in and turn to see he’s smirking, casually waiting for my reaction. I chuckle, scrubbing a hand over my stubble.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick for the past couple of weeks.”
“Weeks? Try months. Like six.”
“It hasn’t been that long, asshole.”
“Pretty damn close, brother. Red have something to do with it?”
“Not something.” Grabbing the tea bottle, I begin to pick at the label, feeling slight relief at the chance to get this hefty weight off my chest. Ash has prodded but, not ready to talk about it yet, I’ve told him to fuck off. “Everything.”
“How come I never knew how you felt about this girl?”
Gray was in college by the time I started hanging out with Nora, and after…let’s just say I didn’t really talk to anyone about her crushing blow to my heart or ego.
“Heartbreak is best buried deep, rather than staining your sleeve.”
“Yeah. I know that better than most.”
I nod, not knowing how to respond. I watched Gray go through years of heartbreak and loneliness without his now wife, Livia, by his side. It was hard to witness. The entire time I empathized. I’d silently walked ten miles in his shoes, but it wasn’t until I saw Nora again that I realized just how bad the hell I was ghosting through all these years truly was.
“I’ve never been able to forget her and I can’t figure out why,” I finally confess.
Gray laughs, deep and loud, as if he has a secret I’m not privy to. “And you won’t. One of life’s unsolved mysteries, Conn. But does it matter why anyway? Shouldn’t all that matters is…you can’t?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
Silence wraps me in her memories...
Her head tilts to the clear blue sky and her nose crinkles slightly before she sneezes loudly.
“Why do you do that?” I ask, genuinely curious. She does it all the time.
“Do what?”
“Look at the sun and sneeze?”
“Because it makes me.”
“The sun makes you sneeze?” I laugh. “You’re making that up. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
With a broad smile on her lips, she faces me. My breath catches with how beautiful the reflection of the lake is in her bright green eyes.
“It is a thing. It’s called photic sneeze reflex and up to thirty-five percent of people have it.”
“Really? That’s weird.” The random facts she knows about so many things always blow me away.
“You’re weird.” She’s laughing now, pushing on my chest playfully. She has no idea how much I love it when she touches me, even in play.
…before Gray tugs me back to the present, damn him. “She’s the one, then.”
I nod, feeling immense relief to admit it out loud. “There’s not room for anyone else. There never has been.”
“What does she want?”
“I wish I knew. She wants me…that much she can’t hide. But she’s running. I just can’t figure out what or who from,” I reply quietly. I hope it’s not me, but my fear is it is.
“Are you sure you want to know?” says the man with firsthand experience.
I don’t know. Do I? Is it possible to move ahead without knowing? Do I want to unearth the type of secrets that Livia kept from Gray? Ones that may destroy me? Destroy us? “I guess I don’t know.”
“Do you love her, Conn? I mean…truly love her? Or is she just another challenge to you? A revenge fuck perhaps?”
My head snaps to Gray, ready to chew him a new asshole, but I stop short of my verbal lashing because as much as it pains me to admit it, I deserve it. Regardless of my “honorable” intentions in all of my sexual escapades over the years, the simple fact of the matter is I have used women all of my adult life. It wasn’t with malicious intent; it was self-preservation. But the reasons don’t matter, I guess. They don’t change facts.
“She is the ultimate challenge, Gray. She always has been. But this is not about revenge or winning. I want her. Period. I am so fucking in love with her I don’t know what to do about it. I’m feeling a whole shitload of emotions I’m just not used to, that I’ve tried so hard not to feel for too many years. It’s hard to process it all, you know?”
He nods. “Love makes men crazy. Possessive. Animalistic, really. The truest form of my base self is how I feel around Livvy. It’s like she strips me down to my primal level with one bat of her eyelashes and I would do anything for her. Be anything she needs. The one thing I would never do is let her go.”
How right he is. Honestly, if I could get away with tying Nora to my bed and keeping her there for the rest of my life, I’d do it. At least until she agreed to be my wife.
My wife.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Am.
I.
Thinking?
That you are nothing without her. Less than nothing.
“What happened between you two?” Gray asks. He picks up a pebble lying next to us and throws it into the water where it lands with a plop. I watch the waves ripple from the center outward, getting wider and slower the further they stray from the epicenter of the disturbance.
That’s exactly how I feel. The ripples from loving Nora were always present, softly lapping my insides, no matter how much time passed from that day, no matter how far away I got from the epicenter. But now I’m right smack inside the hotbed again. The waves are choppy and unforgiving and I think her rebuff may be my punishment for the way I’ve lived my life over the past decade without her.
“She dumped me just weeks after she moved to Baltimore with her family. Gave me some bullshit about meeting another guy. That we’d never work long-distance. I didn’t buy it but she refused to talk to me again. I never understood it. Still don’t.”
After a few beats, Gray says, “She wouldn’t have found out about that girl at your birthday party, would she?”
Color me fucking stunned.
“What did you say?”
Gray shrugs. “Listen, Ash swore me to secrecy, so don’t tell him I said anything.”
“That fucking traitor,” I breathe, unable to drum up true anger.
Regardless of how hurt I was that Nora just up and left me, I know I’m not blame
less here. In fact, I think karma may have bit me and bit me good. I made one horrible mistake, one night long ago. But that’s all it takes to reshape your future. Just one single moment of weakness. Just one lapse in judgment. Just one.
I drift back to that all-day party Alan threw for me for my nineteenth birthday just two weeks after Nora left. His dad was at a conference. His mom had taken off for the weekend with one of her torrid lovers, which was her norm, so he had the run of his parents’ million-dollar home. There must have been more than a hundred underage kids there. I still don’t know how the cops didn’t bust us. Alan told me he went through ten kegs and countless bottles of liquor. Whatever your poison, it was available at that party, including pot, X, coke even.
I was depressed, lonely, and miserable without Nora. I begged her to come back and celebrate with me. All I wanted was to spend the day with her. But she said her mom hadn’t been well and she needed to stay home, so as the day went on and turned into night, the more shitfaced I got. I don’t remember much about anything after seven o’clock in the evening.
What I do remember, however, was waking up the next morning in one of Alan’s four guest bedrooms with the worst hangover I have ever had and an unknown naked girl draped over my equally naked form. A couple used condoms strewn on the carpeted floor were like blinking neon signs advertising our indiscretions from the night before.
As much as I wanted to deny otherwise, it was obvious they were mine. My skin was sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. But I didn’t remember a fucking thing. The night was a total blank. Still is to this day.
I’ll never forget sitting there on the edge of the bed gripping the mattress until my knuckles screamed, staring my crimes right in the face. Panic ran rampant through my blood. I was sick with shame and disappointment in myself. Even though I couldn’t scrape a memory together, I wanted to call Nora to confess and hoped she’d find it within herself to forgive me. Instead, I called Ash to come pick me up, hoping like hell I would wake from that fucking nightmare.
