Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

When The Rose-Colored Glasses Break

“Are we going to talk about how you handled my mother?” Jereth’s low voice broke the silence of the room in the aftermath of whatever I called myself doing not even twenty minutes earlier. Once he came in my mouth, I realized that I was letting the physical distract me from the problems again.

Grinning, I shook my head as I snuggled closer to his side, enjoying the warmth of his body far too much. “There’s nothing to talk about. She came looking for someone to run over, and she met the wrong one.”

“I gotta tell you, J’s wife is having a ball with that story. She’s been wanting to give Sabrina Hawkins some choice words for a while now, so I’m pretty sure you just became her favorite person.”

I frowned at his words. “J’s wife? That’s your older brother, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t married.”

“He wasn’t. They got married a month ago. She planned a surprise wedding for him that started with a scavenger hunt. It was cool as hell.”

As he chuckled, it hit me that he didn’t even understand what he’d just revealed to me in that moment. It was a sobering thought, and my face fell, though I tried to hide my expression, smoothing my face to become void of emotion as I used a neutral voice. “Your brother got married, had an actual wedding, and you didn’t think to bring me along. Wow.”

He tensed beside me and I knew the moment he realized what he’d said. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize—I didn’t even think—”

“I get it. It was a family affair, and you didn’t think of me because—despite the web of flowery words you love to weave—somewhere in your brain, and maybe in your heart, you don’t see me as family.”

“No. That’s not it at all!” He flicked on the bedside lamp and leaned over me. I could see his bereft expression as clear as day, but whether it because he’d let the words slip or because he’d hurt my feelings, I didn’t know. The one thing I knew was that he and I saw each other very differently, and while that might not always be the case, if I stuck around to wait for it to change, it would kill me.

“It’s fine, Jereth.”

It wasn’t, but even as he ripped me apart, I still deigned to spare his feelings. Fucking inconvenient ass love. I had moved before he registered it, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and using the light from the lamp to find my clothes and slip them on. Tossing the covers aside, he sprang from the mattress and rushed toward me, grabbing my hands after I pulled on my shirt and began to button my jeans. His sculpted body, taut and enticing, was a distraction that I didn’t need at the moment, and I tried to focus on anything but his thick sex hanging in between us.

“If it’s fine, why are you getting dressed? Where are you going? Stop, please. Just stop.”

Several shallow breaths barely held my tears at bay, but they managed well enough for me to speak. “I’m getting dressed because I’m—I’m leaving.” My breath hitched and I tried a long, slow deep breath, willing my heart to calm down enough for me to get out of this man’s presence with my dignity intact. I met his frantic eyes and the levees broke, letting my emotions run unchecked down my cheeks. “Jereth. You don’t know how to love me, and you don’t know how not to hurt me. No amount of love is worth the pain I feel when I try to hold on to you, so I’m giving up.”

His eyes became glassy, and I had to look away. Tears weren’t sentient; they didn’t think for themselves or mean anything. They were just liquid saline. I couldn’t allow the sight of him crying to sway me.

“When I told you that I’m never letting you go, I meant that shit. You’re mine. ‘Til death do us part.”

I shook my head. “I’m not, though, and I never was. I see now that you’ve never had any room in your heart for anyone other than yourself. Little do you know, I’ve been doing my research; you want to own me like a possession, but you missed the mark completely. You can’t be in charge of my orgasms if you can’t take care of my heart. Playtime is over.”

Finishing the button on my jeans, I pulled away from his now lax hands and left him and my bedroom behind me. Grabbing my purse and keys from the kitchen counter, I faced the door but paused before taking a step toward it. Even if I hadn’t heard him follow me out of the room, steps heavy and panic-stricken, I would have sensed him standing in the doorway of the hall. Having him here was too much, I couldn’t breathe.

“Please don’t be here when I return.”

The sound he made was like that of a wounded animal, and my throat constricted with tears, but I had to move. I crossed the living room and left my home, not bothering to lock the door behind me since he would—hopefully—be leaving soon, and trudged to my car to slide behind the wheel. It hurt so bad; the pain was incredible. Leaving him felt like ripping my heart out because I knew this time was for good. There was no other way.

The short, intense tale of Jereth and Tonya had reached its end.