by J. L. Berg
Tension and anger rolled off of Clare in waves as we entered the elevator.
“Clare, I...” I stuttered, trying to find the words to explain.
“Don’t. Just don’t. I’m not ready yet.”
The elevator stopped at our floor. We walked in silence to our suite. I unlocked the door and Clare disappeared, taking Maddie to her room, while I collapsed on the sofa, wondering how much my past was going to fuck this up.
Minutes, hours, days went by before she came out of the bedroom door. She was still dressed in the coral strapless gown she had worn to the wedding. She looked like a goddess come to life. Cautiously, she sat down next to me, tucking her feet underneath her as she smoothed out her skirt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Wait, what? Why are you apologizing to me?” I asked, stunned. It hadn’t been her past walking around eye-fucking her in the hotel lobby. And if it had, the asshat would have left with a broken nose.
“When I fell in love with you,” she started, “I accepted all of you, including your past. I refuse to let my jealousy over some hussy doctor or anyone else get in the way of our happiness.”
“You were jealous?” I asked, astonished.
She snorted, saying, “Jesus, Logan. She was practically purring, like she was reliving the entire event right there in the lobby. Damn right I was jealous. I wanted to scratch her eyeballs out.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed, feeling so relieved she’s wasn’t storming out the door.
“You’re vicious, you know that right?”
“Don’t laugh at me,” she pouted, “Besides, if the tables had been reversed and that had been my casual fuck we’d run into, how would you have reacted?”
I instantly saw red. My fists tightened, and my breath grew rapid. Just the thought of seeing another man, knowing he had touched Clare, seen Clare….
“Exactly,” she said. “See? I was quite reserved.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I stated. I was done with talking about our pasts, the many mistakes I made, and a lifetime of regrets. I wanted Clare and Maddie, and nothing else.
“Really?” she grinned,” ‘cause I think I would really like to continue this conversation. It’s titillating”
“Nope, sorry. We’re done talking for the evening.” I announced right before I stood, pulling her from the couch and swinging her up in my arms with my intention set on the bedroom.
“Put me down! Why do you insist on carrying me everywhere?” she laughed, throwing her arms around my neck.
“I thought it would have been obvious by now,” I answered, “I’m not whole without you in my arms.”
Without warning, she pulled my head down, kissing me hard, as I stumbled in the doorway to our room. Struggling to stay upright as we devoured each other, I entered the dimly lit room, setting her down near the middle. We continued our frantic kiss as her body slowly slid down mine.
“You know, I never had a chance to dance with you tonight,” I said, pulling back to whisper in her ear.
“We don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to dancing in a public place,” she laughed softly.
“Ah, but we’re not in public now, are we?”
“No, we’re not. But we don’t have any music,” she pointed out as I wrapped my arms around her and began to move us back and forth.
“Who needs music?”
Our bodies swayed as I led us in an intimate waltz.
Ever so slowly, my hand found the zipper of her strapless dress, pulling it down inch by inch until the fabric pooled to the floor in a billowing heap. Clare was left wearing nothing but coral panties and a matching strapless bra. She looked radiant, and I didn’t think I would ever grow tired of seeing her body, touching her skin, or feeling her writhe below me. Tucking my fingers under the waistband of her panties, I slowly slid them down until the joined her dress on the floor. I made quick work of her bra, unsnapping it with a flick of my hand and it too fell to the ground, leaving nothing but Clare.
She took her time undressing me, running her hands over my naked skin, making me groan. We danced to a symphony of beating hearts, slow lingering kisses, and our combined breath. It was the most beautiful song ever created.
When we finally made it to the bed and our bodies came together, I found my home again. My solace. My shelter from every terrible memory of my life. This woman with the beautiful red curls and bewitching green eyes who captured my heart had given me everything.
“I love you, Logan,” she murmured as our tangled bodies moved together in tandem
“I’ll love you forever, Clare,” I vowed before we both fell over the edge, lost in our mutual release.
She was my salvation and if she would have me, I would spend my entire life worshiping at her feet.
Chapter Fifteen
~Clare~
“There’s something wrong with him, Leah,” I said to her on the phone, while continuing to slice vegetables for a salad.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“His mood, it’s all over the place. He’s been distant, making excuses and staying at his place for several nights in a row. And then he’ll show up out of the blue and practically attack me on the doorstep, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear,” I explained, throwing the remainder of the carrots into the bowl.
At first I thought it might be work, maybe he was just stressed. I was dating a doctor. They had stressful jobs, right? But this was something else entirely. The longer he acted this way, the more worried I became.
“When did it start?” Leah questioned. I could hear her at a checkout stand, the familiar sound of items being rung up, and her speaking to a clerk as she paid. Clearly she was buying her contribution to today’s cookout.
“Right after we got back from New York. He got a call when we landed at the airport and he’s been distracted and moody ever since. He usually shares his entire schedule with me, but now I don’t know where he is most of the time, except when he’s at work, and he doesn’t answer many of my calls. You don’t think he’s changed his mind, do you?” I asked, biting my lip in worry.
“About what? You? No. That man is head over heels in love with you. You can just flip a switch like that,” she assured me.
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I set down the knife and dumped the rest of the vegetables into the bowl. Today, Logan and I were hosting our first cookout together. I had brought up the idea when we got home from the wedding. He’d nodded absently, looking at something on his phone and said he thought it was a good idea, but hadn’t mentioned it since. It was a good idea, right? I wasn’t moving too fast, was I?
No, no...I was being ridiculous. He told me he loved me, and wanted to be with me forever. He wouldn’t change his mind all the sudden.
“I’m sure he’s just planning on proposing or something like that. Men get all sorts of weird when they decide to pop the question. Don’t you remember what Ethan was like the weeks before he asked you?”
Yes, I do. He was a nervous wreck. Fumbling and tripping over himself. If I had known that was what he was planning, and the reason he was such a nervous ball of energy, I would have just done it for him.
“You’re right. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“Exactly. Besides, men are known for having PMS symptoms occasionally. It’s like a scientific fact. So, it could just be his time of the month,” she teased, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh. But I silently thank her. I needed that. Even though I told her I agreed and it must be nothing, there was still a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me something was wrong. That soon, my world was going to come crashing down, again. And I didn’t know if I was strong enough to pick up the pieces again.
~Logan~
It was ironic how a single phone call can change your life. Some for the better, others for the worse. Clare, Maddie and I had stepped off that plane several weeks ago and I was elated. I had
a plan. The ring was in my pocket, like a beacon and symbol for the rest of my life, and then my damn phone rang, and everything changed.
It took one moment for me to walk into that exam room that held Clare and Maddie and have my entire world changed. It took a single phone call for it to come crashing down like a pile of rubble.
“I bet you know how that feels, huh?” I asked the four foot granite slab my body was slumped against. It didn’t answer back. I took another swig from the half emptied body of amber colored whiskey I’d been working on since arriving here some time ago, feeling the liquid burn all the way down to my belly. I didn’t know what brought me to that specific spot, but after leaving the hospital, I didn’t know where else to go.
“I’m in love with your wife. Just thought you should know,” my words slurred and eyes were blurry as I tried focusing on the words in front of me.
Ethan Oliver Murray. Loving Husband, Father, Son. His grave laid before me, a living testament to the love he and Clare shared. The love she lost and grieved every fucking day.
I pulled out the ring I had been carrying with me for weeks and held it to the light, watching it sparkle and flash, imagining how it would look on Clare’s finger. Knowing now, I would never know.
Logan, is there anyone we can call?
No, there’s no one.
Bringing the bottle to my lips again, I let out a harsh laugh, hating the irony of it all. How could fate hate us so much? What was the point of it all if it was supposed to end like this? Why show me how to love if I had to give it up?
“How did you do it, Ethan? How did you let her go?” I asked, hating the thought.
I don’t know what I expected to hear in return. All I got was silence. Nothing but fucking silence.
I hadn’t come here for answers. I knew what I had to do. It would kill me, but I couldn’t put her through this. She deserved better.
She may hate me, but at least she’d never have to lose me like this, I thought, giving one final glance at Ethan’s final resting place.
~Clare~
It was really late when the knock on the door startled me awake. I rushed from the couch, throwing the blanket off my lap to open the door.
“Logan!” I cried, so happy to see his face.
He was dripping wet, rain pouring down his lean body, drenching his hair and clothes. I leaped into his arms, not caring about his water soaked state, needing to feel him, solid and safe in my arms.
“I’ve been so worried. I tried calling half a dozen times. Where have you been?” I rattled off a million questions, holding him tight.
The cookout had been over for hours and he had been a complete no show. Our first couple hosted event and I had to make excuses for him all night. When the evening wore on and he still wasn’t answering his phone, I became worried, and then worried turned into frantic. I called hospitals, and police departments and then finally fell asleep on the couch in tears, convinced he had left me for good.
His arms wrapped around me tightly, for one brief second, before pushing me away completely.
“I’m sorry, I had some things I needed to think about,” he answered coldly.
“Um, okay,” I stammered, “Why don’t we get you inside? Here, let me take your jacket.”
He handed over his leather jacket, completely drenched with rain water. I laid it out to dry before sitting next to him on the couch. His eyes were vacant, hard, and completely unrecognizable.
“Have you been drinking?” I asked, the putrid smell of whiskey coming off of him in waves.
“Listen,” he said, ignoring my question completely. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since New York.”
The feeling I had been having, that terror in the pit of my stomach flared to life, warning me that my life was forever about to change. And not for the better.
“I miss the city. I don’t think I’m cut out to live here,” he confessed stoically.
“Logan, what are you saying? Do you want us to move to New York?” I asked, hopeful.
I didn’t want to move, but I will. If it meant he wouldn’t leave us, I would go anywhere.
“There are other things, too. I miss my job, my life there.”
“I thought we were your life,” I whispered.
He continued, spilling out the words, like he was unable to get them out of his body quickly enough. They sounded practiced and rehearsed, like he had written a speech before coming here. A “how to break up with Clare” speech and he couldn’t wait to get it all out.
“I thought I was ready for this. Ready to be with one person for the rest of my life, and ready to be a father. But I don’t think I am. I’m sorry. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s where I’m at,” he said, like he wasn’t ready to place his order yet, or he couldn’t decide between two shades of paint. No big deal.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly, seeing something flash in his eyes that he was desperately trying to keep blank for my benefit. He was hiding something.
“I just thought it’d be better this way. At least I figured it out before it was too late, right?” he shrugged.
Unable to sit next to him anymore, I jumped up from the couch, hurt and angry and so damn confused.
“Too late? There’s a little girl upstairs who adores you. What am I going to tell her, Logan?”
He turned from me, shielding his face from my view so I couldn’t see his expression.
“You goddamn lying bastard,” I seethed.
“I’m sorry, Clare.”
“Don’t apologize to me, Logan! Tell me what’s really going on here. This isn’t about some stupid job. What happened to make you run like this? Just tell me and we can work through it.”
He stood, running his hands through his hair for a few seconds as if trying to decide what to do. He finally looked up at me. I saw the hurt and pain in his eyes and I felt myself relax, knowing if he was opening up, we could get through this. But he turned his emotions back off and resumed the icy cold demeanor he had arrived with.
“There’s no other reason. Clare. I’m just not ready for this.”
“Please don’t do this Logan, please...you can’t leave,” I begged, the panic taking over every molecule in my body.
“I’m sorry, Clare. You have no idea how much I wish things were different,” he said, and it was the first thing he said all night that I actually believed. Everything else was a lie. One big goddamn lie he’s concocted. Like a big get out jail free card.
“You’re a fucking coward!” I roared, slapping him hard across the face. He just took it, as his head snapped back against the impact. No emotion, no angry words. Nothing. The Logan I knew was gone, buried underneath newly formed sheets of ice. This was the old Logan, the one that existed before me.
“Get out!” I yelled. “Get out, please,” my yell turning into a whisper, as the energy in my voice drained. I could barely stand, my knees fought to keep me upright. Seeing my struggle, he hesitated, taking a step toward me, but just nodded, walking out the door and never looking back.
I collapsed onto the floor, tears flowing down my cheeks as my entire body shook and that nagging terror I had felt earlier took over my every thought.
~Logan~
Sitting at my familiar barstool in the same bar I had gone to the night I’d met Clare, I felt like shit. It was really a dumb move on my part, but I didn’t want to go home. Too many memories to haunt me, reminding me of everything I had lost. Everything I’d given up.
You’re a fucking coward!
I was a coward. I had set myself on this course thinking I was doing something noble, saving her another life of pain and suffering, but who was I really trying to protect? I never asked what she wanted to do, never told her what that call was about so many days before. What I had found out today. I’d kept to myself, saying I was protecting her. But I was protecting myself from the possibility of seeing her walk away. What if she didn’t want me anymore? What if she looked at me differently? I didn’t know if I c
ould handle the possibility that one day I could stop being Logan, and instead be a constant reminder of Ethan and everything she’d lost.
Walking into that house, telling her I wasn’t ready and acting like what we had wasn’t the most goddamn important thing in my life was the biggest shame of my life.
She looked slain, like I’d ripped out her heart and thrown it to the wolves. And I just stood there, cold and emotionless while she’d fallen apart. I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between us, and tell her I was sorry, that I didn’t mean any of it, and everything would be okay. I would have pulled out the ring in my jeans pocket, the ring I would carry with me until the day I died, dropped to my knees and asked her to marry me. I would have begged forgiveness, carrying her upstairs and making love to her all night rather than sitting here in this bar alone, like I would be for the rest of my life.
“Hey, Doc,” Cindy said, as she made the rounds to refill drinks. “You haven’t been around in months.”
“Been busy,” I answered coldly, not bothering to look up from my glass.
“Yeah? Well I sure hope she was worth it because you look like hell,” she commented before walking away.
I felt like hell. I felt like I left my soul on that doorstep as I walked out of that house, leaving Clare and Maddie forever.
All that was left was numbness, that constant void of nothingness.
“Hey, stranger, long time no see,” a familiar woman’s voice greeted me from behind. I awkwardly swiveled around in my bar stool, seeing double. As my vision cleared, I couldn’t help but grin, stunned by who stood before me.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, gorgeous.”
Chapter Sixteen
~Clare~
Sitting alone, on the floor in the middle of the family room, reliving the horrid events of the last night, I felt like there wasn’t enough air left in the room. I took another gasping breath, trying to fill my lungs between the echoing sobs, but it wasn’t enough.
