Use Me (Caldwell Brothers)

“Okay, Melanie.” I don’t disguise the somberness in my tone. I want to scream because, really, these deadlines are months out. My heart is bleeding and broken. While I know it’s her job to make sure I’m on track and on time, I can’t help wanting this time to myself.

She ends the call, and then I shower so I can finish packing. An hour later, I’m ready to go back to New York. Annie and Jonathon’s book is practically done, and all that is left is saying goodbye to the city that has given me back my life.

Walking out of my room, I look at the doorway for the stairs and think fondly of closed stairwells. On a smile, I find my way to the elevator. The descent is slow. I can’t help the sadness filling me that this is it.

Walking out the front door, I’m looking for my cab when I see the old pickup truck. Tears spill over when I see Angelo standing by the passenger door with it open and flowers in his hand.

I rush over, dragging my rolling luggage behind me. Reaching him, I roll up on my tiptoes and kiss him. I don’t care that we are in public. Angelo is here.

When I pull away, we are both breathless.

“Thought you weren’t bein’ honest with yourself. You want me, say you want me.”

Oh, the many meanings in that, Angelo.

I decide to be honest because the truth is, as much as I said I didn’t want him to take me to the airport, I do. “Thank you for reading me.”

“Seems like you said one thing and meant another, Tatum. Gotta be honest with each other.”

Inhaling, I memorize his scent. “You’re right.”

On the ride over, I sit beside him on the bench seat, and he wraps an arm around me, driving one-handed. We both seem to need to touch each other.

At the airport, I get out as he unloads my luggage. We stand in front of the doors, and half of me wants to simply pack him up and take him with me, but it’s not realistic.

Looking up, his eyes meet mine, and I know what I need to do for us both.

“Angelo.” His name is barely above a whisper.

“Tatum, I can’t promise you a future.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to. I want to take this feeling—this love—and hold on to it.”

“So, what do we do?” he asks.

I fight back my emotions as I run my fingertips down the side of his face. “We breathe again. We love again. This is where the story ends. Thank you for giving me back my life, Michelangelo Mazzini. Thank you for giving me Annie and Jonathon.”

He studies me like he’s trying to read me again. “Thank you, Tatum Longley, for believing in me. Thank you for helping push back the demons I carry. Thank you for giving me a reason to live again.” He presses his lips to mine, softly, slowly kissing me as we stand there, our emotions wound tight.

Breaking away, it’s my turn to study him. He means it.

“I love you, Angelo. I’ll never forget you, Detroit, or our time together.”

“I love you, Tatum,” he says as I step away. “Breathe again, baby.”

Those are the last words between us as I let the tears fall and make my way to the counter to check my bag.

I don’t look back. No, I won’t look back. I feel his eyes on me, but this is about closure. This is not about looking back or going back. It’s about living again.

The time has come and gone all too soon, but the lessons in love will be with me forever.

Chapter Twenty - Six

One Month Later...

When she landed, she sent me a text. My reply was that I was glad she was safe.

She shot me another, asking how I was. My reply was that I would be fine.

We sent several messages that day about feelings before my feelings took a turn for the worse.

I got pissed.

I told her to stop texting me, that my thirty days was up, and now was the time for the cleansing to begin.

Her last message was that she was sorry and she would try... for me.

That pissed me off, and I told her to do it for herself.

The texts ended, and then the hurt set in.

Prison was easier that this shit. There were walls to hide behind when the pain got real. In a sick fucking way, those walls protected me. I could wallow in my shit and no one was any wiser.

Jagger, Buck, and the guys at the gym all asked if I was okay. I shut them down really fucking quick. This is not any of their fucking business. My personal life, choices, and decisions don’t need the fucking exposure. My pain is mine and mine alone... again.