Reece
We shower together. He pulls me into his arms, wrapping me in his warmth as the water streams down my back. He soaps my skin, cleaning me and rinsing my body. The luxury, this spoiling… I’ll miss this.
I’ll miss him.
He makes me eat something. “Shouldn’t have let you drink on an empty stomach,” he says. I nibble at the cheese and crackers he ordered up. Sip at the bubbly water.
He’s on the balcony, taking phone calls. Speaking in hushed whispers. Glancing over at me every so often. Giving me a tight smile. He’s acting distant. Pulling away from me.
How can he be pulling away from me when I’m the one who’s leaving?
Does he sense something is up? Is this daddy a babygirl mind reader too? Does he know what I’m about to do? I should be relaxed after the sex and the shower and the sweet nothings but my stomach clenches in knots. I want wine but after my two Manhattans, I don’t see daddy allowing it.
You know what? I’m a grown ass woman. If I want a glass of wine, I’m going to have one. I go to the wine fridge under the counter. I find a clear glass bottle of golden liquid. White wine? Sure. Wine not. I giggle at my little joke, more a product of nerves than actually thinking I’m funny. I put the bottle on the counter, searching the drawers for a corkscrew. I find one and begin my battle with the cork.
So, yeah. I’m young and I’m broke. I’ve only opened screw caps.
I sense him before I see him. “Hold on,” he says to the person on the phone. He comes up behind me, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. He gives me a grin, amused at my predicament. “May I?”
I hand him the corkscrew, watching his big, strong, extremely capable hands as he works the wine opener. There’s a quiet pop as he slips the cork from the bottle. The small sound makes me jump. I really am wound up. He grabs a glass from the cabinet, saying, “Just a minute,” to whoever he’s speaking with.
He gives me a generous pour and a kiss on my head and leaves me, returning to his secret conversation on the balcony.
I sip at the cool, sweet wine. It’s like nothing I’ve tasted. Delicious and bright. I glance over my shoulder and see that he’s watching me, a gentle smile on his face.
I’m being silly. He has no idea what I’m about to do and he’s not acting strange. He literally just washed my body for me and fed me. Everything is fine with him.
Thinking he was pulling away is just from the upset feeling I have, knowing what I must do.
It must be.
I’m just nervous… but as I dig deeper into my emotions I realize what I’m really feeling.
Devastation.
These last few days have been the best of my life. Too bad, Reece. You have a job to do. I grit my teeth and steel my nerves. There’s a bigger picture here. It’s time to put the final piece in the puzzle. And it’s my job to do that.
I can do this.
Feeling more settled, I finish my wine. Dress in the elegant silky gown he’s bought for me. Sink into the cotton sheets and cover myself with the feather-filled comforter. I wait for him. He comes to the room, stands in the doorway and just stares at me for a moment.
“What’s up?” I ask after a quiet moment.
“Nothing. I’m not ready to sleep. Want to watch a movie?”
“One of your bad British ones? I should probably be working on the lingo.” I give a laugh but it sounds forced.
“Sure.” He holds his hand out to me.
I leave the bed and join him.
We watch a movie together on the couch but I can’t focus. I couldn’t tell you what even one of the plot points are. It's just dull sound and pictures in the background of my thoughts.
He’s not focused either. Just stares at the screen like he’s a world away. His arm is around my shoulder, his fingers mindlessly stroking up and down the back of my arm.
Things are tense between us, I can feel it. I know something is off with him. He’s quiet. Is the movie an excuse to not have to make eye contact with me? He’s pulling away from me.
But why?
Does he know what I’m going to do?
No, I don’t think it’s that.
No matter the reason… all the more reason to do it tonight.
Afterward, we collapse on the bed together. I snuggled against him, my head on his chest. I don’t want this moment to end. I slow my breath, pretending to sleep.
A half-hour must have passed.
He says, “Reece?”
I don’t answer, keeping my breathing slow and steady. He thinks I’m asleep.
He pulls me close, breathing into my hair. He takes a long inhale, and on his exhale, he whispers words against my cheek.
“I’m in love with you, Reece Bright.”
Did he just tell me…
He’s in love with me?
I try to tell myself that I misheard him…that it couldn’t possibly have been what he said.
But it was….wasn’t it?
He just told me that he loves me.
My heart beats three times faster, thumping against my ribs. I’m careful not to tense, to keep pretending to sleep but everything inside of me is fully awake, every nerve on end, my mind and body on high alert.
Tears burn in the backs of my eyes. I force myself to breathe normally, to stay perfectly still so he still thinks I’m asleep.
What I have to do was already making me dizzy with nerves, sick with the regret I might feel.
Now?
Hearing this?
The knowledge of what I have to do shatters my heart into a thousand pieces. Jagged pieces like broken glass glitter inside of my chest, the sharp shards digging into me, making my chest burst in pain. I steel my nerves, blinking back tears. I tell myself…
It doesn’t matter.
This has to be done.