The Man I Can't Have (Ward #1) (Ward Duet)

by Shanora Williams

  “My landscape designer,” I say without looking at Teagan. I’m still focused on Callie, grateful for the distraction. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  I look over, and Teagan has sat upright to lower her glasses. She’s staring right at me. “What do you mean you can’t stop thinking about him? Like about his body and that sexy-as-hell face? Like I told you, I get why you find him so attractive. The man is fine.”

  “No, T…like…in a deeper way.”

  She frowns then. “I don’t get what you mean…”

  I sigh and sit forward, crossing my legs. I’m obviously quiet for too long because Teagan snaps her fingers in my face, pulling me out of my trance.

  “Hello? Gabby, you can’t just say stuff like that without explanation! What’s going on with you?” She’s leaning toward me now, fully concerned.

  I feel tears creep to my eyes, but she can’t see them behind my sunglasses and I’m glad. But sure enough, as I speak, she can hear the emotion thickening in my voice. “I slept with him,” I confess.

  And she’s quiet.

  So damn quiet.

  All I hear are crashing waves and Callie barking at them.

  “You…wait…with the designer?”

  “Yes.” I push my sunglasses up to the top of my head, then clear my eyes with my fingers. “It all happened so fast that night. I made tacos, we were drinking…things got carried away in the kitchen.”

  “Wow…G.” It’s all she can say.

  I meet her eyes, and she’s shocked, but not the kind of shock that comes with disapproval. She’s shocked, like she always knew this would happen but can’t believe it did.

  “Is that why the table is broken?” She asks it softly, but there’s still burning curiosity in her voice. She starts to crack a smile, and I can’t help it, I laugh at her.

  “I swear I can’t stand you!” I half-laugh, half-sob.

  “What? I’m just wondering! I saw it was broken and then you said things got carried away in the kitchen! I’m only putting two and two together!”

  I swipe a tear away, then bring my knees to my chest, resting my chin on my kneecaps. “Kyle is supposed to get it fixed soon.” Callie is back, and she sits at the end of my towel, panting like she just ran a marathon. “I feel so damn guilty about it. I mean, most people cheat when things have gone wrong or when the couple isn’t interested in one another anymore, but it’s not really like that with Kyle.”

  “So why do you think you did it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve had time to think about it, and the main reason I can come up with is I was lonely. Kyle is hardly home. But even so, it’s no excuse, because he always comes back.”

  Teagan clears her throat before saying, “That’s your main reason?”

  “Yes—things have been fine.”

  “Yeah, now they have. I recall a time not too long ago when shit hit the fan and you came crying to me about it.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not like that anymore.”

  “People don’t change overnight, Gabby. You put too much trust in Kyle.”

  “He’s my husband, Teagan. I have to trust him.”

  “Yeah, and you do, for all the wrong reasons.” I frown and she straightens her back. “Look, I get it. Kyle is safe. He makes great money, he’s nice-looking, gives you whatever you want. But that’s all mediocre shit, you know? It’s conventional, material, but it makes sense for you to be with him, considering the struggles you’ve had before. But this landscape guy? Marcel? I saw the way he looked at you last night, Gabby. Every time I looked at him, he was watching you. At one point I swear he was going to crush his beer bottle with his hand when he watched you and Kyle together. By that alone, I could tell it was deeper for the two of you, but didn’t want to say anything about it because I figured it must have just been him feeling something. I could tell things were more emotional for him than physical, you know? You don’t have that with Kyle—you’ve never had it—so having it with someone else doesn’t shock me.”

  “But it’s wrong to feel this way about him,” I argue.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you’re out here killing people, Gabby! You’re so good to Kyle that breaking a vow is driving you crazy!”

  “Teagan, I fucked Marcel on the table Kyle got from his mom! Of course it’s going to drive me crazy! I feel bad that I even did it!”

  “But do you want him again?”

  I blink quickly. “What?”

  “Do you want Marcel again?” she asks, voice firm.

  I swallow hard, snatching my eyes away from hers. My heart is racing just thinking about being with him again.

  “I take that as a yes,” she mumbles arrogantly.

  I draw in a deep breath and then exhale. “He asked me to meet him at a villa when Kyle leaves. I hate that I’m even considering it.”

  She tosses her hands in the air. “I’m not even going to touch that subject. Last thing I want to do is put my friend in a sticky situation…but if I were you, I’d have fucked that man ten times by now. Married or not.” She breaks out in a laugh and I groan, raking my fingers through my hair.

  “God, you’re nuts.”

  “Look, I can’t tell you what to do, Gabby. It’s your life, and you make your own decisions, but just know that even if you do or don’t, we all have our secrets. Every single last human on this planet does…including Kyle. He’s not perfect, and neither are you. Just…do what you feel is right. That’s all I’ll say about it.”

  She puts her sunglasses back on and lays flat on her back, soaking up some sun again. I pull my eyes away, focusing on the ocean.

  Here I am seeking the green light from my own best friend. I wanted her to tell me it was fine—that what I did wasn’t that wrong, and that I had a reason. But I don’t. She knows what I did will change things forever, but she also knows that whether she tells me to stay away from Marcel or not, I’m going to do what I want.

  After a while we leave the beach to shower and catch some lunch in town, depositing Callie in the kitchen while we’re gone. Kyle is seated on the sofa, his laptop on his lap, and when we return, he’s still there.

  Callie comes rushing out of the kitchen, yapping at me, like I’ve been gone for so long, when it’s literally only been an hour.

  Kyle looks up at me with a smile, and I return it as Teagan walks around me to head upstairs.

  “I’m so tired. I’m going to get a nap in,” Teagan yawns.

  I nod at her. “Okay.”

  “How was lunch?” Kyle asks, looking me over.

  “It was good. Had chicken tortilla soup with extra avocado.”

  “Ah. I know how much you love your avocados,” he chuckles, then sits forward. “While you’re up, do you think you can do me a favor?”

  “Sure.” I place my keys on the coffee table.

  “Can you go to my office and grab the black folder in the bottom drawer of my desk for me? It has a few papers I need to look over.”

  I walk behind him, rubbing his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll get it.”

  I head upstairs with Callie trailing behind me, going into his office and shuffling through the drawers until I find the black folder. As I take it out, my eyes shift up to the papers on his desk. There’s a pale pink sheet that catches my eye beneath a white one. I wouldn’t care about it, if the words Lewis Docks & Rentals weren’t on it.

  I frown as I shut the drawer, glancing at the door before picking the pink paper up. I scan the numbers, and then read over the fine print at the bottom of the page.

  The sole proprietor of this company, William Lewis, hereby consents to selling Lewis Dock & Rentals to Moore Investment Banking Company. With this consent, the sole proprietor will herein receive one-hundred thousand dollars and fifteen percent of monthly fees accrued from Lewis Docks & Rentals.

  What the hell? I frown, reading the fine print over and over again. Dad sold his company to Kyle? Judging by the date, March of 2019, this deal is fresh.

  “Gabs? Everythi
ng alright?” Kyle calls, and I rush to put the paper back where it belongs. I tuck the folder under my arm and whisper, “Let’s go,” to Callie. When I’m downstairs again, I hand the folder to him.

  “Took you a while,” he notes, smiling.

  “Sorry.” It’s all I can say. He opens the folder right away, and I walk to the kitchen, taking out a bottle of pressed juice. My mind is reeling, though. I never thought in a million years Dad would sell his docking company. He worked hard to open it.

  Is he losing money? Is that why he and Kyle were whispering with each other when Easter dinner happened? And that phone call Kyle had when we got back from Virginia. He said my dad’s name. Was he talking to him?

  I want answers, but this is Kyle’s business, and he hates when I snoop…but this is my family, too. Why wouldn’t Dad mention selling the company? It doesn’t make any sense.

  When I fall asleep, I dream that I’m bleeding. Blood is dripping off my face and onto my hands, and I have no idea why, but I’m afraid. Terrified, actually.

  I’m being chased, screaming for the person to let me go—to leave me alone.

  I gasp when I wake up, wiping my face as if it’s really bleeding. There’s no sign of any blood. I look over at Kyle, who groans in his sleep and rolls my way. He peels an eye open with a frown and then sits up on his elbow.

  “Gabs?” he croaks. “What’s wrong?”

  “N—nothing. Was just a bad dream.”

  Sighing, he wraps an arm around me, and I turn over, my back to him. “You need to relax. You’ve been too worked up lately.”

  I look at the window. With the house so quiet I can hear the ocean.

  “Kyle?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How do you feel about our marriage?”

  He’s quite a moment, then he sits up. I can tell he’s looking at the side of my face. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…are you happy?”

  “As happy as I can be.”

  I frown and sit up, rolling over to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just means we could be doing better.” He rolls over, turning his back to me. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll get through this just like we have gotten through everything else. We’ll get used to the changes.”

  I don’t know why, but his statement leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I watch him for a moment before turning over, but it’s hard to fall asleep again. How could he say something like that?

  I slide out of bed quietly and walk to my office to get to my desk. I stare at my laptop for quite some time, and then I say, “Fuck it,” and open it. I write up an email that I’m pretty sure I’ll regret, then I hit send before I can think twice about it.

  Kyle leaves to catch his flight the next morning around eight, but when he kisses my cheek, I feel no surge of emotion. I don’t wish he could stay a little longer like I used to.

  His mouth connects to mine, and I don’t feel like I can’t breathe without him. If anything, it’s a relief when he walks out the door, especially after what he said to me last night. What kind of wife thinks this way? A terrible wife, that’s who.

  After finding that pink sheet on his desk, I keep wondering why he hasn’t told me about it, or why my dad hasn’t even mentioned it. Does Mamá know? Ricky? Not only that, but he’s as happy as he’ll get? Is he trying to blame me for what we’re going through?

  I don’t know, but I can’t think too much about it right now. As badly as I want answers, I want to be somewhere else more.

  I drop Teagan off at the airport shortly after he goes, but not without a big hug. After our conversation on the beach, she spoke nothing of it again. Didn’t even hint at it. I was grateful for that.

  When I’m back home, I send Meredith a text message. She responds right away, and I’m pleased with her response. I then pack a bag—enough clothes for three days—then pack up Callie’s things. An hour later, I’m carrying Callie across the street, tucked under my arm, as I make my way to Meredith’s house.

  A man answers the door, burly with a bushy brown beard. He’s got a button nose and a slightly bald head. He reminds me of a gnome. He’s almost adorable.

  “Hey there!” he greets me, and from the pictures I saw on Meredith’s walls, minus having the beard now, I know he’s her husband, Bill Aarons. “Meredith is upstairs in the shower, but she told me you were bringing the pup!”

  “Is it okay to leave her now or should I wait?”

  “Naw, she can come on in. Meredith should be out in a minute.”

  “Thank you.” I walk past him. It’s nice to finally meet you, by the way! I’m Gabby.”

  “Oh—yes! I apologize for my lack of manners. I’m Bill. Nice to finally meet you, Gabby. Meredith’s told me all about you, so I feel like I already know who you are.” He chuckles.

  “Trust me, I get it. Meredith talks about you a lot.” I place Callie’s stuff down in a corner with a laugh. She’s still tucked under my arm, and I lift her up in the air, looking into her puppy-dog eyes. “You be good, okay?”

  She licks the tip of my nose. I smile and place her down, and she goes straight for the back door, dying to go outside. The Aarons have a lovely backyard—fountains and grass and plenty of bushes and palm trees, courtesy of Ward Landscaping & Design, of course. They have plenty for Callie to pee and poo on. She adores it.

  “Thank you guys so much again for watching her! I’ll be back soon!”

  “No problem at all.” Bill is going to the back door, opening it up for Callie. I walk out, shutting the front door behind me.

  On the way back to my house, my heart is pounding. I don’t even go back inside, for fear that I may change my mind the second I think about how fucked up all of this is. I left my bags on the porch, along with my morals, so I snatch them up, then head to the open garage where Lady Monster is parked.

  I check my phone, and there’s a text from Marcel.

  Room 310. Knock when you get here

  I try and calm my breaths, but it’s impossible. I’m shuddering each breath, my mind racing. I sent him an email this morning, while Kyle and Teagan were still sleeping. I let Callie out afterwards, and my mind was still reeling from what Kyle said, and after thinking about all we’d been through, I realized Teagan was right. I put too much trust in Kyle. I also have a habit of making him seem like the perfect man when really, he’s far from it.

  As I stood on the patio, letting soft gusts of salty wind run over my skin while watching the morning waves crash to shore, all I could really think about was Marcel.

  Maybe it was a mistake to email him and let him know I was in, but I think it would be an even bigger mistake to suppress whatever this is I feel for him, even if, in the end, it destroys my marriage.

  Sometimes I wonder if my marriage even deserves to be saved anymore.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  GABBY

  I’VE ARRIVED…AND I’m freaking the hell out.

  I stare ahead at the towering villa, made of white stucco with a thick blue design bordering the edges of the building.

  Several people walk in and out of the building, most pulling up to valet. I have no idea what kind of place Marcel has booked, but judging by the flashy attire of some of the guests arriving and departing, as well as their expensive cars pulling up to valet, it’s safe to assume this is some elite resort that not many can afford.

  “You’re already here,” I murmur to myself. “Too late to back out now.” Or is it?

  I sit back in the seat, running a hand over my face. I know if I sit here any longer, I’ll jet, and the last thing I want to do is stand him up. It astounds me that I even care this much, to the point I don’t want to disappoint him. I’ve done it way too many times before, and he’s been patient with me. I can’t do it now, or he’ll never talk to me again.

  With that in mind, I get out of my car and open the back door, taking my overnight bag out. I sling it over my shoulder, then pick up my tote bag as well.

  Calming jazz music pour
s out of hidden speakers as I walk to the entrance of the building. A man greets me at the door, standing in a gray vest and dress pants. I force a smile at him but keep going, making my way to the elevator.

  When I’m aboard, I can literally hear my pulse thumping in my ears. I watch the digital blue numbers above climb, gripping the handle of my overnight bag anxiously.

  When the doors split apart, I draw in a breath and walk out, exhaling as I make my way down the hall. This hall has tall, white columns and a shiny, marble floor. It’s beautiful.

  Room 310 is directly ahead of me. The banging in my chest is even heavier now. My pace slows as I approach.

  And then I knock.

  I hear some shuffling around, and then the door swings open. Marcel stands on the other side of it, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black basketball shorts that hang low on his hips, revealing two sharp dips below his abdomen.

  By the shimmer in his ocean eyes, he looks relieved, and I’m glad to know he’s happy to see I’ve made it.

  “Thought you’d bail,” he says, stepping back. “Come in.”

  I force a smile as I walk past him, stopping before I pass the kitchen on the left. It’s a small kitchen tucked into a corner, but it has an oven with a stove, microwave, fridge, and a sink. Good enough for three days.

  My eyes shift over to the furniture. Brown wood surrounds the ivory cushions of the L-shaped sofa, and there’s a glass coffee table in the middle. Just beyond the furniture are sliding glass doors. Through the glass, I spot the ocean and lots of sand. It’s all so beautiful.

  I take it all in, and my nerves really become a mess. He planned all this for us. For me. Did he really want this to happen that badly? This is clearly his way of making an impression, and I truly am impressed…but he’ll have expectations. God, I’m a nervous wreck.

  I take my bag to a table in the corner, placing it on top of it. I unzip it and pull out the bottle of silver tequila—the bottle he brought to our housewarming. He watches me unscrew the lid and drink straight from the bottle.