Captured

by Myers, K. L.

  Not until she comes undone, screaming my name.

  As much as I want her to come again, I need to be inside her. Reaching into my nightstand, I grab a condom. Quickly, I open the package and roll it on, and while she's still in a state of euphoric bliss, I slam into her.

  “Yes. Yes!” she screams as I grunt, “Fuck.”

  In and out. In and out. The rhythm of our sex has me pushing harder and holding on to her tighter. I pull out and thrust back into her with such force she moans, making me push deeper. As deep as I can go.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

  Willow's fingers dig into my back as her breathing increases and I pick up the pace. Lifting her leg, I ram into her, pushing us both over the edge and screaming each other’s names.

  “Holy fuck. That was—”

  “Yeah,” she says as I roll off her to dispose of the condom.

  I clean up as quickly as possible and rush back to her, climbing into the bed and tucking her into me as I pull the covers over us. Her body is stiff against me, and her sniffling makes me go cold despite the warmth of her naked body against mine.

  “Willow?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “For what?” I don’t actually need her to answer. I don’t want her to, but my foolish heart has me asking anyway.

  Willow breaks from my hold and scurries from the bed, grabbing at her clothes. She covers her body as best she can and walks out of my room with tears pouring down her cheeks, repeating, “I’m sorry,” but never says for what.

  I know what she’s sorry for though.

  She thought she was ready for what happened. Thought she was ready to move on, but reality set in as soon as she was alone for a few seconds. She realized I wasn’t Abe.

  And now she regrets it.

  She never really chose me.

  20

  Regrets and Consequences

  Willow

  “Don’t go.”

  Brecken’s plea from behind me only makes my heart ache worse as I hug the clothes to my naked body and slink out of his room. The walk back to my room is filled with shame and guilt.

  What was I thinking sleeping with Brecken? He’s gorgeous, and he makes my body come alive whenever we’re in a room together, but he’s not Abe. A physical connection with him can’t replace the years I spent loving my husband.

  Even if I wasn’t a perfect wife, I did love Abe.

  I don’t love Brecken.

  I’m attracted to him. Damn, I’m attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? He has the body of a god, and that tattoo—Jesus! I didn't realize I thought they were hot until seeing him naked. Now, I can't get the image of his tribal ink out of my mind. How it travels from his chest to his hip.

  The memory of tracing it with my tongue makes me tremble with desire and cry in shame. I'm a horrible person. I can't stop thinking about Brecken, but my heart screams for Abe. The conflict is tearing me apart.

  Throwing myself onto the bed, I sob like a child who’s lost her best friend. I guess that's the problem. I did lose my best friend, and I've been broken ever since.

  Abe would be so disappointed in me. In the way I've been living. All he ever wanted was for me to be happy. He lost his life trying to give me that, and how have I honored his memory? I've wallowed in misery.

  And now I've slept with another man.

  Way to go, Willow.

  “I'm sorry, Abe. I'm sorry I wasn't better... kinder to you. You deserved the stars, but I blocked out their light.” My words are muffled as I cry them into the pillow.

  “I should have seen you. Really seen you. I should have told you I appreciated you every single day. But now it's too late.”

  My body jerks from my sobs as I think about how much I took advantage of Abe. Of how I expected him to take care of me. I treated him like my lackey instead of loving him as my husband.

  But I did love him. So much so I didn't know how to live without his smile. Or his kisses. I hugged myself, pretending it was him. Pictures were the only way I could keep him close. That I could remember what made us great.

  It was him. He made us great.

  I fucked everything up.

  And I'm doing it again.

  Brecken is a good man. I may not love him, but what if I could? What if I just need time for the attraction to grow?

  “Will you hate me?” I whisper to the air. “Can you forgive me?”

  The silence is deafening. I wish Abe could answer me. That Brecken would bust through the door and demand I get on with my life. I wish I could figure my shit out.

  Still naked, I stand and cross the room, determined to do something other than cry. I grab the notebook I've been writing in and a pen and start jotting notes on a new character.

  She's a grieving widow. Completely shattered and lost without her husband. Someone new comes into her life unexpectedly. She wants to hate him, but he's charming, and slowly, he begins to win over her heart. Guilt keeps her from jumping straight into a relationship with him even though he's willing to give her everything she's missing.

  Can she give her heart over, or will she break more by opening up to another man?

  I write down how I envision the characters to look. How she first met her husband. Their first date. He took her to a playground and pushed her on the swings. She laughed like she never had before. The higher he pushed, the louder she laughed.

  That playground became a part of their relationship. The first time he told her he loved her, they were sitting side by side, swaying on the swings. When they fought, she would go there to think. Their wedding took place on the field adjacent to the playground, and during the reception, the small crowd enjoyed acting like children with them. It was so much a part of their hearts that when the town upgraded to a bigger, better playground, he asked to take the swing set and slide.

  He told her someday, their children would love it as much as they did. He’d push them on the swings. She’d go down the slide with them. They’d be a happy family.

  But he died before any of that happened.

  The playground sat lonely in the backyard. Lonely and sad like her.

  She couldn’t go back on the playground after he died. It didn’t feel magical anymore. The love it made her feel died with him.

  Unable to move forward without him, she became a zombie, rarely showering. Only eating enough to stay alive. She stopped talking to the outside world. Every day was a struggle. She prayed God would see her pain and take pity on her by ending her life, but each morning, she woke up.

  It was a vicious cycle that seemed to have no end. Then a handsome stranger appeared. He offered her a new life, and because she was desperate to escape, she accepted. She should have asked questions and set demands, but she took his hand and let him lead her away.

  Now, where to go with her? Do I have her fight him? Do I let her fall in love? Can someone find love twice in a lifetime?

  What if they weren’t good to their first love?

  How I treated Abe keeps coming back to haunt me. I wasn’t always terrible. Him and me alone was magic. We laughed and held hands, always had to be touching. I just expected him to do what I wanted without asking what he wanted.

  It wasn’t always like that though.

  I was insecure when we met. Afraid of my own shadow. I barely spoke. When did I become so confident that I was willing to overshadow the best person I ever knew?

  Would I do it again if given the chance, or could I go back to being that sweet girl Abe first fell in love with? I wish I had the answers. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so afraid.

  I stare at the notebook in my hands—at the words I’ve written. “What would you do?” I ask the character I’ve created.

  Knowing the only way I’m going to get an answer from her is to tell her story, I start at the beginning.

  The Boy Next Door

  It was a day like any other. The sun was shining. Dogs were barking. Dads were out mowing the lawn while their
kids played. Then the moving truck pulled up next door. A shaggy-haired boy climbed out of the passenger side. His brown eyes found mine, and I knew my life was never going to be the same.

  21

  Losing Faith

  Brecken

  The three days are up, and I haven’t seen Willow since she left my bedroom. Jamal hasn’t seen her either. He leaves food outside her door. Sometimes she opens the door and takes it. Other times she doesn’t.

  I don’t know what she’s been doing in there. She’s been so quiet. Several times, I’ve stood outside her door, listening, hoping to hear her moving inside. Hoping she would hear me and come running into my arms.

  They’re the hopes of a foolish man. A man who has fallen in love.

  I don’t know when exactly it happened. If it was her refusal to listen. Her smart mouth. It could be that she’s as broken as I am. Maybe my shattered soul needed hers. I’m not sure, but the thought of living without her is crippling.

  I haven’t been able to think straight. Forget working. Papers are strewn all across my desk. My laptop is open, but I haven’t logged in since yesterday. I’m a damn mess.

  How the hell am I supposed to say goodbye to her?

  I shouldn’t have to. I should be holding her. Making love to her. The other night should have been the first of many nights where she fell asleep in my arms. It should have been the beginning of us being an us.

  I was ready to let her in fully. To tell her anything she wanted to know about me. To give her whatever she needed to keep her moving forward.

  I wasn’t ready for her to shut me out again.

  I thought we were past that.

  “Jamal!” I yell, ready to get this over with. I can’t keep dragging this out. My heart can’t take it.

  His footsteps sound in the hallway and then a knock on the door.

  “Jesus Christ. Just come in. I called for you.”

  “You’re in a lovely mood,” he jokes.

  I’m not in a joking mood.

  “Be ready to help Willow pack her stuff and drive her home.” I don’t ask. There’s no please. I simply bark the instructions.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Would I tell you this if I weren’t sure?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me. I’m so not in the mood to get attitude from him. I already lost Willow. I need my friend to just help me handle this.

  “It’s day three, Jamal. She was only willing to give me that, and then she was going home.”

  “She hasn’t given you that.”

  “God damn it!” I roar. Why is he fighting me? Doesn’t he see that she changed her mind? Having sex with me was more than she could bear. It broke her beyond repair. “Just do as I fucking say.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, bowing.

  It pisses me off more. “You know that’s not what I mean. Fuck!” Pacing, I rip at my hair. I don’t know why Jamal is being so difficult.

  “What time should I tell her we need to have her stuff packed by?”

  Time? Him tell her? Why would he think— I can’t finish the thought. Too many emotions are threatening to consume me. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “You will?” The shock on his face infuriates me.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t want her to go. She made this decision. I’m just giving her what she wants. But, yes, I will talk to her. I at least want to say goodbye. She may not give a fuck about me, but I do care about her.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “Just go. I’ll let you know when she’s ready for you.”

  Jamal doesn’t say anything else. He slips quietly from my office as I think about what I’ll say to her. If I should ask her to stay. How I’ll feel if she says no.

  I wish we could go back to when she was naked beneath me, moaning my name. We were both happy in that moment. The sadness of our pasts had disappeared. Our grief was gone. We were happily in the present, experiencing bliss.

  I want that again.

  I want it with Willow.

  It’s killing me that she doesn’t want it with me.

  As I look up at the wall, Emery’s smiling face mocks me. Her love for me shines through her eyes, making me angry at her for being gone. Angry at Sebastian for taking her. Angry at Willow for rejecting me and myself for opening up my heart again.

  I should have known better. Losing Emery should have taught me the lesson. Love hurts in ways you don’t recover from. Why the hell I thought I’d be immune the second time around is beyond me. I’m a fool... a motherfucking fool.

  And it’s time this fool says goodbye to the woman who’s breaking his heart.

  With slow steps, I make my way out of my office, down the hallway, and to the stairs. I look up, hoping to find her there waiting for me. I don’t know why I still hope. The stairs are empty.

  I climb them, feeling hollow inside. With each step I take, each stair I climb, my heart shatters more. She slips further away with every inch I get closer to her room. It’s like losing Emery all over again.

  At her door, I take two deep breaths, close my eyes, and knock. I open my eyes, waiting for a response, but there’s nothing, so I knock again. Still nothing.

  Fine. I’ll play this way, then.

  “Willow. It’s Brecken. Today is day three. Jamal will be up soon to help you pack.”

  I turn and start to walk away but quickly realize if this is the last time she’ll hear my voice, that’s not what I want her to hear. She doesn’t have to answer the door or speak to me, but damn it, she will listen.

  Spinning on my heel, I head straight back to the door and pour my heart out. “I wasn’t expecting you. You were supposed to be a job. Another person I used to fill the void. But you became so much more. You became my reason for getting out of bed in the morning. My reason for breathing.”

  Placing my hand on the door to try to be closer to her, to try to send my emotions directly to her, I continue. “I tried to fight it. I told myself it was wrong. How could I fall for someone I planned to kill? But I did. I fell for you. Do you hear me, Willow? I love you. I don’t want you to go. I won’t stop you, but I wish you would stay. I just want you to be happy.”

  I slap the door as my emotions take control, and my voice gets louder. “I want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. I want you to thrive. I want you to feel joy. Fuck, I want you to feel love. I want everything for you. Because I love you, I want you to have it all.”

  Exhausted and broken, I walk away, more shattered than I have been since Emery’s death. My feet drag. My shoulders hunch. I feel like I’ve aged decades in minutes. I don’t know how I’ll survive this heartache.

  “Brecken.”

  I freeze, sure I’m hearing things. It can’t be her. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  But I turn around anyway.

  Standing in the doorway of her bedroom is the woman I’ve fallen in love with, her brown hair hanging in waves over her shoulders, her face free of makeup, and wearing flannel pajamas. She’s beautiful.

  “Willow?” I’m not sure why I question her existence. I can see her. A few steps closer, and I could reach out and touch her. If only she’d let me.

  “What you said was... beautiful.” Tears mist her eyes, and I want nothing more than to comfort her, but I can’t. I don’t know if she’ll let me. “Did you mean it?”

  “Every word.”

  She nods.

  And that’s it. She just wants to know if I care before she rips out my heart and stomps it to bits.

  “I’ll send Jamal up to help you prepare for your departure.”

  I begin to walk away again when she says, “I have something for you.”

  I close my eyes before turning to her, trying to brace myself for what she could possibly give me. A goodbye letter. A slap in the face. It can’t be anything good.

  “Will you wait here while I get it?”

  My head bobs up and down, but I don’t move any closer to her. I
’m afraid to get closer. Afraid she’ll disappear like a puff of smoke. I’m not ready for her to go.

  When she reappears, she’s holding one of the notebooks I bought her. With a strained smile on her face, she holds it out to me. “I want you to read this. After, you can decide if I should go or not.”

  “I should decide?”

  “I don’t want to go,” she answers, “but what’s in there may make you decide I should. I can’t be selfish again.”

  She pushes the notebook into my hands and walks back into her room, closing the door and leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.

  I open the notebook, and the very first paragraph sends an ache through my chest. This is hers and Abe’s story. Their love story. She wants me to read how she loved another man and then tell her if I can still love her.

  Why would she want that?

  I don’t understand her logic, but I can’t deny her either, so I head to my office and read. Hours pass as I take in their tale. She’s changed the names, but it’s obvious who it’s about from the little she’s told me about their relationship. It doesn’t take long to see why she loved Abe. He was so much like Emery. A good person to his core. But Willow was a good person too.

  Until she became a writer.

  It changed her. Fame went to her head. The humble girl became demanding. She started seeing herself as more important than Abe and became selfish and cruel.

  Is she worried she will treat me that way too?

  I place the notebook on my desk as I think of all the things Willow has said to me. It makes sense now why she was so willing to die. She can’t forgive herself for becoming a woman who lost sight of what was important... love. Abe’s death reminded her of the sweet times. Of when it was simple. They only needed each other.

  Before her pride and ego became bigger than the both of them. Bigger than anything they shared. Bigger than their love.

  She didn’t realize it until he was gone.

  Shame and guilt took over until it was all she knew. It ate away at her until writing became the enemy. It never was. Forgetting who she was to fit a mold was. I’ve seen it so many times in business and in hanging out with the rich and those who proclaim themselves fabulous.