It reminds me of the time we had in his bathroom when I realized I’d missed my birthday and never went to see my mother. It feels like so long ago when we fought and fucked on the tiled floor. And when he stood, with his back to me and the look of regret clearly written on his face… I’ll never forget the way it felt. And that’s exactly what it feels like now.
Hold on to him, a voice whispers as the emotions try to strangle my throat. Hold on to him.
“I’m trying,” I whisper.
“What?” Carter asks and I swallow the dry words, propping myself up on his desk even though I can feel moisture between my legs. I have to wad up the bottom of the nightgown, the bit that should cover my legs, and press it against myself to keep from making a mess. Carter only comes to help me down then. And only to help me down. The moment the balls of my feet hit the hardwood floors, he lets go of me.
I need someone to hold me too. My voice is weak as I answer him, “Nothing.” The moment is broken and I feel it inside of me. The sharp edges of it dig into my chest and let the real world find its way back into my head.
Carter’s gaze is like fire, burning into the side of my face as I turn away from him, the way he did to me just a moment ago.
“I need to go change.” I offer up the excuse and then hate myself for it. I hate that I can pretend in the least that I’m all right.
My hair tickles my upper back as I turn to stare back at the man I love, the man whose love will kill me. With a shiver running down my shoulders and the coolness of his office replacing the much-needed heat I felt a minute ago, I tell him the truth. “It feels like you regret it almost every time you touch me now.”
I have to swallow thickly after letting the words out. It is almost every time, isn’t it? Each time since the safe house… he never came, not until now.
It’s a slow change in his expression, as the slight concern morphs to indifference. To the mask he always wears. “Do you regret this?” I ask him. Before he can even answer, I push out more of the raw truth, saying, “I don’t want to feel like this afterward. I don’t want to feel…” I trail off as my hand reaches up to my chest and my fingers tangle around the strand of pearls, not knowing what the words are that accurately portray what I feel.
I feel like I lose him more and more when he does this after. But when I’m with him, truly with him, I’m whole. “I want you back.” I whisper the words in a ragged voice drenched in despair.
“This isn’t going to last.” Those are the only words Carter gives me, but his expression says more. His steady gaze belies the hollow depths of his pain. Looking closer, the softness around his eyes shows just how tired he is, how vulnerable, even.
It’s only then that tears prick, but still, I hold them back. Sorrow will do nothing for us. It only eats at the precious time we have left.
“Stop.” I can only give him a single word before I have to take a steadying breath. I can feel myself breaking, but I won’t. He must see it, but he doesn’t come to me. He doesn’t try to comfort me and I have to reach behind me, gripping the edge of the desk to brace myself.
“You said it yourself.” Carter starts to give my own words back to me, and I have to look away from him, staring at the massive windows although I don’t see anything at all. “You said you’d never forgive me, and we both know it’s the truth and what I deserve.”
With my fingers wrapping tight around the pearls, I speak calmly and aimlessly, “Such a reasonable gesture then, to pull away from me and not fight for me.” On the last word, I turn to look at him. “Just end it then, send me back?”
Although it’s a false threat, a cold chill creeps up my body. It slows everything—my breath, my pulse.
A tic in Carter’s jaw starts to spasm as he turns away from me, leaning his hips against the desk and bracing himself on it as I am to look out toward the windows with me.
“The moment I heard your voice, I knew once I had you, I’d never let you go.” His voice is low and full of solace. Inside I’m reeling with the ticking time bomb of the truth he doesn’t know.