Made To Love

by S. M. West

  Disappointed and afraid this relationship will fail, I fear the longer we’re apart, the longer it takes for us to talk about this, the easier it’ll be for him to walk away. I seriously messed things up, and now, Erin.

  “What do you want?”

  “Liv, can I come in?”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you.” I really don’t. Pete’s been trying to talk to me too, but I’m not ready for him either—although speaking with him will be easier. I don’t care that he slept with Erin. Sure, it hurts knowing he lied and it was with my friend, but I’m glad that he might be moving on.

  “Please. I’ll keep it short, but I really want to talk.”

  I turn my back and she follows me into the foyer. I go no farther—she’s not welcome in my home.

  “Talk,” I command, folding my arms and puffing out a frustrated breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she sounds almost contrite, but it’s impossible to miss that her tone’s laced with belligerence. “To make things clear, I won’t apologize for pursuing things with Pete, but I am sorry for not being open with you.”

  Barking out a laugh, my eyes widen in astonishment at her nerve. I really shouldn’t be surprised. This is Erin, always has been—I just always put up with her shit because she was my friend. Now, I’m tired of making excuses for her selfish behavior. Everyone has issues and hard times, but she’s used her father’s callous attitude as an excuse to be a bitch for way too long.

  At my reaction, she has a dumb look on her face like she has no clue why I’d react that way. Why? Because I’ve been a pushover for so long and never called her out on her façade. I saw it, I just never thought she’d aim it at me. That was my mistake. That’s on me.

  “Pete and I are…”

  Cutting her off, I hold my hand up. “Stop right there. Not now, not ever will I talk to you about my ex-husband. I don’t care if you’re fucking him or not. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

  The doorbell rings, and we both turn to see Sin walking in. “Hey Liv,” she calls, trepidation creeping into her sunny features at the sight of Erin and me.

  “Was this planned?” I snap. “You two tag-teaming me?”

  “No,” Sin balks.

  She knows about Sam, and of course, Erin and Pete. She’s been my shoulder to cry on. She hasn’t said much about Erin, but she’s disgusted with her stunt, though not surprised. She’s been more vocal about Sam, and quick to point out that I need to fix it.

  “Come in.” I usher her in but leave the door open. Erin gives her a weak smile, shrinking in on herself a bit. Sin’s cold reception is not lost on her. “Erin was just leaving,” I offer.

  “Liv, we haven’t talked.”

  “We’re done. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk, if that time ever comes.”

  “Liv, please hear me out.”

  “Erin,” both Sin and I say at the same time. There’s an edge, a finality to my tone, and Sin’s is similar, like we telepathically agreed on this.

  Solemnly nodding, she mutters goodbye and leaves. With the door closed, my shoulders sag and I exhale a sweet sigh of relief. The knot in my chest loosens but still remains. I hurt. If I think too much about it, the pain is tight, like someone’s clutching my heart.

  There’s no future for Erin and me, but she’s been my friend for almost thirty years so as much as cutting her out of my life is the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, it still hurts. I’ll never trust her again. She’s obviously harbored deep resentment toward me and I don’t understand it. I don’t know how to fix it, or if I really even care to.

  “Sorry, Sin. I thought with Erin showing up here, then you, it was planned.” With an arm around her shoulder, I lead her into the kitchen.

  “Never. I haven’t spoken to her since her first phone call after what happened, and like I told you, I told her we had nothing to talk about. I don’t need friends like that. Anyway, enough about her. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Seriously?” she pushes. “This is me. You don’t look fine. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes—have you not been sleeping?”

  “I’m a mess.” My chin wobbles and my voice cracks. My vision turns to liquid, tears pooling in my eyes as she envelops me in her arms. “I’m such an idiot. I love him. God, I love him.”

  “I know, honey.” Her soothing tone and gentle embrace are calming, grounding. Her support is keeping me together. “You need to talk to him. Tell him.”

  “I know. I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t I say it when he did? I felt it. I knew I did. I was scared.” I sob, my chest heaving.

  My cries are muted. I try to keep it together, contain my anguish, make no sound as I feel undeserving of her comfort. I brought this on myself. She hugs me tighter, sensing my stubbornness and reluctance to be absolved of my foolishness.

  “Hon, it’ll be okay. I know it will. Sam loves you. He’s probably just frustrated,” she soothes, rubbing my back. “Give him time, but not too much. If he takes too long, you make the move.”

  Pulling away, I wipe at my tears. “And what’s too long?”

  Her eyes are tender, filled with compassion. Her fingers tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, then she places a light kiss on my forehead and smiles warmly, reassuringly. “You’ll know—” Sin’s interrupted by my mobile ringing.

  Shaking off my pity party, I nab my phone, not recognizing the number, and hit talk.

  “Hello?”

  As I listen to the stranger on the other end, my world stops.

  Paige has been in a car accident.

  Sam

  Standing on Olivia’s porch, the chilly November wind whips through us like a blade slicing through butter. Fuck, it’s cold. Alec rests his hand on my shoulder with a heavy, supportive squeeze.

  The door opens and my chest spasms at the vision of her, aching with my longing for her. It’s only been days since I last saw her, but they’ve been the longest and most agonizing of my life.

  I fucking love her and only want to be with her, but with the Pete and Erin crap, she needs to figure out what she wants. Maybe—though I dare not give in to my fear—it’s not me.

  As patient as I’m willing to be, I can’t make her feel, act, or be anything she isn’t ready for. That’s where my decision to leave and to have radio silence came into play, and I’ll admit, it was kind of my way of pushing her.

  I knew pushing could go either way, but I need to know that she feels it too, the all-encompassing love that’s consuming me. Then Jonah’s call and talking to Paige changed all of that. I wasn’t going to keep my distance. Not now.

  Pushing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “Mon trésor.”

  At first, her expression is impassive as she flattens her mouth, but then her lips tremble as she bites her bottom lip, trying to hold back her emotions. Her eyes glass over as the unshed tears form and her façade crumbles as big, fat tears spill like a waterfall and she emits a heaving sob.

  I’ve got her. Rushing to her, I gather her in my arms, cradling her as I lead us into the house. Alec’s at my back, closing the door behind us.

  “Sam, I’ve missed you.” She sniffs into the crook of my neck. Her tears and warm breath dampen my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

  “I missed you too,” I whisper into her hair, her scent calming me. My arms hold her tighter, happy to have her close. I never want to let her go.

  In his deep, distinguished tone, Alec quietly says, “Paige?”

  Olivia peers over my shoulder at him, her gaze questioning. He plants a light kiss on her cheek and gives her a small, sincere smile.

  “Where’s Paige, Livvy?”

  “Ah, she’s upstairs, but…”

  “We know,” Alec interjects. “That’s why we’re here. I’ll go up to her.”

  Without further explanation, he ascends the staircase, never looking back, giving us privacy and also seeking out Paige. He needs to see her to put both his heart and mind at ease.
Like me, he’s been worried sick. He wants nothing more than to cast his eyes on the girl who has fast become a granddaughter to him. Olivia looks on in bewilderment. Guiding her to the couch, I pull her into my lap.

  “Sam, how did you know about Paige?”

  “Jonah,” I admit. She rears back in surprise. “Before you castrate the man, hear me out. You’re right. He loves you, like a brother, and wants to see you happy. He knows I make you happy. You make me happy. He thought I should know, and he was right. You should have called me.”

  “But, you needed space.” Her tone is small and lost.

  “Livvy, no matter what’s going on, I want to know—no, I need to know. Yes, we’ve got a lot to discuss and it may not be pleasant.” I won’t sugar-coat it, and a warmth spreads through me because Bas would grin at this; he was always a straight shooter. “But that aside, I’m not going anywhere. I love Paige. I want to know if she’s hurt, if she needs me, if you need me.”

  “Jonah?” she says, as if stuck on what I said minutes before, not comprehending anything I’ve said.

  “Yes, Jonah called me and told me about Paige being in a car accident. He told me she has a concussion and some bruised ribs. I wasn’t sure about coming so I called Paige to see how she was.”

  Even though she’d reached out to talk, I wondered if this was the end, if she was going back to Pete. I couldn’t handle that, then when Jonah called, I desperately wanted to be there for her and for Paige—but then I wondered, what if they don’t need me? What if she was leaning on Pete? Paige was their daughter, after all, and after what had happened, I wasn’t sure if she’d left her marriage or not. I called Paige to get the lay of the land before making my decision about coming or not.

  “You called Paige?” she echoes, still looking confused.

  Nodding, I continue, “She told me you’re not talking to Pete. She’s less concerned about that at the moment and more concerned that you have your big meeting with Mrs. Preston tomorrow and seem dead set on canceling it. We all know there’s no room to cancel it with the hotel launch plans in full swing. I’m here to take care of Paige so you can go. I’m here to help.”

  Realization of what I’ve said dawns in her eyes as they widen, locking on me. She gasps, sucking in a jagged breath, then burrows farther into my lap. Her arms circle my neck and she kisses me with a ferocity I’ve never experienced before.

  Heat flares within me, desire spreading throughout at her demanding kiss. Her urgency and pent-up frustration is evident in every seductive stroke and stab of her tongue, mimicking what I so desperately wish my cock was doing inside her. Tight. Warm. So, fucking sweet.

  “Sam, I love you,” she moans, strong and sure. Her hands cup my jaw, holding me to her lips. So damn beautiful, raw and mine.

  Swallowing her words in my mouth, I growl, “I love you too.”

  Our lips tangle, each of us pledging our love with more than words. She is my everything. We still have a lot to discuss, but hearing her declaration renews my faith in us, in my promise to myself to find a way for us to be together.

  Olivia

  Pulling into my driveway, the day’s victory fades fast—Pete’s standing at the edge of my walkway. It looks like he just got here as he’s walking up the drive when he pauses and turns in the direction of my car pulling up. He’s made several attempts since last week to talk to me, but I haven’t wanted to. I don’t want to know who he sleeps with, let alone that it’s my ex-friend.

  For a split second I wonder if maybe I’m wrong, if he may have tried the door. Does Sam know he’s here? Sam showing up on my doorstep last night stunned and overwhelmed me with relief. We didn’t get a chance to talk—he was almost reluctant to. Paige was thrilled to have our guests and there was no denying how ecstatic she was to be pampered by them both.

  Preparing for my confrontation with Pete, I quickly catalogue my day, which went very well. Mrs. Preston signed off on the final designs, and all orders have been placed and set to arrive on time. All around, the past twenty-four hours have been fantastic.

  I groan at the thought of having to face Pete, which will likely erase all the good of today. Walking past him toward the door, I do the immature thing and ignore him.

  “Olivia,” he frantically calls out while pulling on my arm.

  Whirling to face him, my glacial stare prevents him from saying any more.

  “Pete, stop right there. I’m going to make this real simple. We. Are. Divorced. Who you sleep with is none of my business. Yes, if it’s one of my friends, call me crazy and unreasonable”—my tone is sarcastic, unable to keep my spiel neutral—“but I do expect to be told. With that said, we’re not getting back together. Ever.”

  “Olivia,” he protests. “I broke it off with Erin. I don’t want her.”

  Holding my hand up, I continue, “Pete, you and I being over has nothing to do with Erin. The chance to mend our marriage is long gone. The way I see it, I easily spent the last five years of our marriage telling you what was missing, what we needed to work on, what we needed to do. It was like talking to a brick wall. You remained silent and refused to talk about it or meet me halfway. I even gave you the benefit of the doubt, giving you time to digest and formulate your thoughts. No matter how much time I gave you—days, weeks, months—you never had anything to say. We can’t go back Pete. We’re done. I’ll always care about you and love you. Yes, I love you for what we had. You’re the father of my children. We made some beautiful humans and some wonderful memories. But, that’s it. I want to be civil and amicable for our kids, but you and I, we don’t exist anymore. There is no us.”

  In some weird way, it pains me to say it all again. I don’t want to hurt him. Yes, he hurt me, and I guess he perhaps thinks I hurt him, but somewhere along the way, we no longer fit, no longer worked together. I tried. In my heart of hearts, I tried my hardest, fought for us, for our life together, but he didn’t show up. It’s the story of my life with Pete Hayes.

  “Shit, Liv.” His voice is heavy, pained. “I messed up. I know that now. I was a dumb fuck who thought we’d be together forever. I buried my head in the sand and thought if I ignored it, it would go away. I can’t imagine my life without you. The days since our separation have been the darkest of my life. It kills me to think that there isn’t a chance for us. I need you. I love you.Please give us another chance.” His eyes are wide and beseeching.

  His plea only confirms what I already know. At one point in time, his words would have paved the way to reconciliation. They would have given me hope and likely bought us a few more years. Now, hearing his profession of love and his regrets does nothing. I feel nothing. Empty. Hollow.

  All I have is pity for him, pity that he was given so many chances and chose to do nothing. I wish him no ill will, but I’m no longer in love with him, haven’t been for years.

  “Pete, there are no more chances.”

  “Liv,” he croaks, his eyes glassy.

  My chest sputters; I truly don’t want to hurt him. Sure, I’m disappointed in some of what’s happened and definitely in the most recent events, but I want us to get along. Taking my hand, he pulls me closer. Placing my palm on his chest, I keep a small distance between us. This is goodbye, nothing else.

  “You’re a good guy, you just couldn’t give me what I need. I think you know as much as I do where things went wrong, and I finally realized I couldn’t ask you to give me something you haven’t got to give.” I blink back my tears. We both need this moment for very different reasons. “I’ve moved on. I’ve found someone else who I’m crazy about and love dearly. I wish you the best life and I hope you find love again—you deserve it.”

  As I squeeze his hand, we stare intently into each other’s eyes. Even with only the pale moonlight, I can make out the distress and sadness in his features. Like myself, he’s changed, and perhaps even learned and grown because of this. I wish only the best for him. I hope he learns from this and finds happiness.

  “Olivia.” He sighs. “I’ll
always love you.” He pulls me in for a brief hug, kissing my hair before releasing me.

  “Bye Pete.”

  With a nod, his voice low, he adds, “Tell Paige I love her and I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  I smile and nod. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looks longingly at me. Awkwardly, I avert my gaze, there’s nothing else to say. He needs to move on, let me go.

  Sam

  Stepping out from the shadow of the house, Olivia’s on the porch and she sucks in a jagged breath at the sight of me. At first, I wanted to interrupt, let them know I was there, but as she continued to explain how she felt, I couldn’t bring myself to stop her. I needed to hear it.

  Her words soothed my fears, eradicated any doubts. My confidence in her, in us, grew tenfold knowing that we were real, that I hadn’t dreamt it all in my head. She is over her husband.

  Even though she left him and demanded the divorce, the whole debacle with Erin had me second-guessing her motives. I wondered if she had wanted the divorce as a way to get Pete to change, to realize what a fool he was.

  Pete’s head is down as he nears. Sensing me, he abruptly lifts his head, startled at my presence and stops. He stares, bleary eyed, his pupils glistening with what I’m guessing are tears. It’s in that moment that I fully realize our common bond: we love the same woman. While I’m not victorious or wish to rub it in his face, I’m fucking thankful to be the one she wants.

  “Sam, take care of her.” His voice is heavy and gruff, his candor and humility rolling off him in waves. His eyes hold so many emotions, from resignation to resolve to regret. “Olivia is the best person I’ve ever met, the most amazing woman on the face of this earth. I fucked up. Don’t make my mistake.”

  He’s beaten down, but accepting of his fate. Solemnly, facing him man to man, the weight of his words, both spoken and unspoken, bear down on me. I understand the magnitude of his confession and his warning, and not wanting to be arrogant or dismissive, I give him the respect and assurance he deserves.