Beautifully Damaged (Beautifully Damaged series) by L.A. Fiore (11)

With my assignment on the gallery opening done, I was feeling restless, so I decided to take a walk. It was cooler, the crisp air announcing the change of season.

I walked for almost an hour and decided to grab some lunch at a café that Trace favored. Perhaps that would give me some insight into his most recent mood. I was just across the street from the little bistro and was about to cross, but stopped when I recognized part of a couple in the front window. Even from my distance I knew it was Trace—I’d know that man anywhere—but it was his position, sitting across from a brunette, that made all of the air leave my lungs. They were leaning toward each other in a very intimate way, but it was his hand stretched across the table holding hers that hurt the most.

I just stood there and stared at them, feeling like an outsider. I wanted to confront them and demand to know what the hell was going on, but I couldn’t get my feet to listen to my head. Deep down I feared what I might hear. I believed that Trace and I were making progress, but maybe that progress was only in my head and I was just fooling myself that things were getting better between us.

Heartbreak warred with anger as I started to walk away. I loved him and wanted to be with him, but I wasn’t about to play second fiddle to another. After the news story about Charles Michaels from a week ago, living with Trace was becoming very difficult, but I hadn’t expected this. Yes, he had been staying out longer and fighting more often, building a wall between us. But cheating on me?

I couldn’t go home, and I found myself wandering around the city. The man I fell in love with was disappearing again, and any attempt I made to get Trace to talk about it proved pointless. In light of what I’d just observed, his behavior at night seemed even more confusing. He was the complete opposite—loving me with such intensity that it almost felt like desperation, as if each night was our last. I knew Charles Michaels was the catalyst.

I tried to learn more about this Charles Michaels by googling him, but outside of learning he was a shrewd businessman and borderline dirtbag, I couldn’t find any link to Trace. Uncle Josh could dig deeper.

I hadn’t realized how long I had been out until the sky started to turn dark, so I hailed a cab and headed home. I entered the apartment to the sight of Trace pacing like a caged panther. The expression on his face when he turned and saw me was one that I will never forget. He looked broken, but when he spoke there was anger.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry, I went for a walk and didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

He just stood there like he was rooted to the floor. I could tell he was holding himself back, presumably because he didn’t know what he would do if he got his hands on me: hug the breath out of me or put me over his knee. My own temper sizzled just below the surface as I held his gaze and asked, “Where were you?”

I saw it for just a second—guilt—before he said, “I was at the gym.”

“The gym.” A profound sense of disappointment and a stabbing pain in the vicinity of my heart consumed me at that betrayal. I started for the room down the hall.

“Ember?” His voice was so soft—tender even—but I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye when I spoke.

“A self-fulfilling prophecy. I never really understood that concept, because I never really believed it was possible. I mean the idea of not wanting something to happen so much that you end up acting in a way that brings about exactly what you hoped wouldn’t come to pass?” And then I lifted my eyes to his worried ones before I added, “I don’t find the concept that absurd anymore. I don’t care what secrets you have because the man you’ve become stems, in part, from those secrets, but I hate what holding on to them is doing to you.”

I wiped at my eyes before I started from the room. “I’m going to bed.”

Later that night Trace joined me in bed and proceeded to love me so completely and sweetly, despite the fact that he’d lied to me earlier and we both knew it. Afterward, he held me close and as I started to drift off to sleep, he whispered something I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear. The words and how he said them stuck with me because they sounded more like a good-bye instead of a vow of love.

“In my life I will never love anyone like I love you.”

“Are you thinking about giving up?” Kyle asked while we sat in his living room the following day. Thank God Kyle was not just a great listener, he also gave some pretty great advice. I was feeling so conflicted.

“No. I love him. With him I feel like I’m on a roller coaster—thrilling and terrifying and I crave it.”

“But?” Kyle asked.

“It’s also exhausting.”

“Well, that’s the thing with roller coasters, Ember. Part of what makes them so fun is that you get to choose when you ride and for how long. You might not be able to save him. This, what you’re going through now, might be all you have to look forward to. Do you think you can handle that for a lifetime?”

I felt the tears burning the back of my eyes. “I honestly don’t know.”

When I returned to the apartment later in the day, I heard muffled voices coming from Trace’s office. My feet stopped at the sound of a male voice that was not Trace’s.

“I hope I can count on your support.”

The rage in Trace’s voice was undeniable. “I want you to stay the fuck out of my life.”

There was frustration in the other man’s voice when he said, “I’m part of your life whether you like it or not.”

“Bullshit.”

“This is clearly not a good time.”

“Damn straight. For you, there is never a good time. Get the hell out of my apartment.”

As soon as the man appeared in the hall, recognition slammed into me. I hadn’t realized it from the pictures on TV but seeing him in person, he was undeniably the man who had come into Clover, the one whose presence caused such a stir—Charles Michaels. He looked tired, but when he saw me, a politician’s smile curved his lips. Before he could speak, Trace appeared, his dark energy sucking the air from the room. I thought it very wise of Charles to hold his tongue and exit the apartment as quickly as possible.

I turned my eyes on Trace and almost gasped at the sight of him. He looked livid. His attention didn’t leave the door when he said, “You can’t outrun your past no matter how far and fast you run.” And then he turned his focus on me and my heart broke because he looked resigned. “You can’t save me and if you stay, I’ll only bring you down with me.”

There was a callousness to Trace I had never seen before, and I felt a surge of panic. Was this the end? But I rallied before I said, with quiet conviction, “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Sadness passed over his face. “And that’s why you have to let me go.”

Two weeks after Charles Michaels’s unexpected visit, my hope of a happily-ever-after with Trace was fading fast. It made the issues we’d had before look like a speed bump. He was never home except for very late at night and even that was rare. On most nights, I couldn’t sleep, lying awake in bed worrying over him.

When he did come home, the sound of his heavy footsteps down the hall would make my heart pound because I knew he would enter the room and quietly undress before climbing into bed and holding me close. I’d feel his breath against my neck and the soft kisses that he’d place there, as he buried his face in my hair and breathed me in. It was during those precious moments that I knew, regardless of what was going on with him, his feelings for me hadn’t really changed.

It was because of that revelation that I sought him out during one of his fights. The small gym was packed with people and a month before, I wouldn’t have hesitated to work my way through that crowd and stake my claim on Trace, but the man he’d become in the prior few weeks was just not someone I knew anymore. I had turned to leave when Rafe walked over to stand at my side.

“Ember, I’m really glad you came.”

“I’m wishing I hadn’t.” I had spotted Trace standing in the center of it all. Women were huddled all around him, but rather than being indifferent, Trace was actively flirting. I couldn’t help but think of that woman from the bistro. How many others had there been?

“Why?” And then he saw Trace and seemed to answer his own question.

“He loves you. I understand why you might doubt it, but he does.”

“I really believed that once. I’m just not so sure anymore.”

“He’s pushing you away just like I told you he would. Don’t let him.”

“He’s not the same man. Look, I know that there’s more to his story, but no one seems willing to share it with me. I’m not really seeing the point in my fighting when the one I’m fighting for isn’t interested any longer.”

Rafe’s expression was incredulous as he asked, “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

“I do, yes.”

“Talk to him.” Rafe reached for my hand and squeezed. “I’ll get him.”

I watched as Rafe made his way through the crowds. He leaned into Trace to whisper and Trace’s head snapped up. I watched as those eyes turned to me before he moved from the crowd and made his way over. He reached for my hand and pulled me with him down the hall until we were in what I assumed was the office of the gym’s manager. He closed the door and leaned against it.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Ever since Charles Michaels’s visit you’ve changed. What is happening to us?”

“You knew the kind of man I was when we started this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He replied with a shrug.

“Damn it! I want an answer. You’re backing away, putting distance between us and shutting me out. Why?”

He looked as if he was going to blow the question off, but then changed his mind.

“I warned you—staying was only going to pull you down with me. I’ve tried to be the man you think I am, but I’m not that guy. You’d see that if you’d only open your eyes.”

“You’re never going to trust me enough to let me in, are you?”

Something flashed in his eyes in reaction to that and he said, “It’s not a matter of trust. I’m not your forever guy. We were never going to have the happily-ever-after. I thought you knew that.”

My heart just stopped because I hadn’t thought that at all. I loved him and though I wasn’t demanding marriage, I saw us as that couple that still holds hands in their eighties. I thought he felt that way too.

“What are you saying?”

“I thought you would have come to your senses by now. Mr. Forever will come along eventually.”

“You actually believe I could feel any other way about you? You are my forever.”

“You’re not mine.” Those words were barely loud enough to hear and yet the impact of them was devastating. He started to pace as he pulled a hand through his hair and then he exhaled with a hiss. “Why are you making this so hard? I tried to be monogamous, tried the relationship thing, but that’s not me. There are things I want to do to you, see done to you, that would disgust you.”

“Like what?”

His voice dropped to a seductive whisper when he asked, “Have you ever tasted pussy?”

All the blood drained from my face.

“Have you ever been shared by two men at the same time? I want to watch as you are. I like watching, you got a taste of that.”

My stomach roiled with revulsion at the images he was forcing me to see. Tears sprang to my eyes that he could cheapen what we had. That he could turn our lovemaking into nothing more than raunchy, meaningless sex broke something in me.

“Those women in there, I’ve had all of them, used them in any way I wanted.” He leaned closer, “I’ve fucked them individually but I have to admit to enjoying their offerings in a group.”

“Stop it! Why are you saying this to me?”

“To force you to wake up and see me for me. You knew of my reputation. I’m sure you were warned off of me. That all I wanted was a piece of ass and any ass would do. You should have listened.”

I wanted to run from him and his hateful words, but there was still a part of me that believed he was intentionally being cruel, because I couldn’t reconcile this man with the one who held on to me so desperately late at night.

“Funny how your change of heart coincides with Charles Michaels’s visit.” Where my courage came from I didn’t know.

Trace’s voice was flat when he said, “He’s just the one who held the mirror up to my face to remind me of who I was.”

“Maybe I should go talk with him and find out what your connection is to him. Perhaps he won’t be so closemouthed.”

I didn’t even get to finish that statement as Trace’s hands wrapped around my arms almost painfully and when he spoke, his voice was frightening.

“Stay the fuck away from him. Do you hear me?”

“Why?”

A horrible sneer covered his face when he replied, “Because he’d chew up and spit out a sweet innocent like you without a second thought.”

He released my arms and took a step away from me. “Are we done? I have a fight.”

“We’re done.” I watched him leave as my heart burned. I had already lost him.

I sat at the desk in the spare bedroom trying to lose myself in my writing, but my thoughts kept going back to that horrible conversation with Trace from last week. What he described, the thought of him doing that with countless women, sickened me. Is that what Trace really wanted? I had a tough decision to make but I just wasn’t ready yet to make it.

Instead of dealing, I focused all of my waking hours on writing. I even sent Professor Smythe a few chapters of my new book with the hopes that his critique would be so severe that it would keep me even more occupied. When I saw his name on my cell phone, my nerves got a jolt. My self-esteem had already taken a hit with not being able to hold my relationship together, but if I learned my writing wasn’t good enough, I’d most likely assume the fetal position and cry like a baby.

“Professor Smythe.”

“How’s In Step?”

“You were right, the job is exactly what I needed.”

“I’ve been reading your pieces. Very nice work, Ember. You are really growing as a writer.”

“Have you had a chance to read the chapters I sent you?” I held my breath waiting for his reply.

“I have. You found what your first book was lacking. These chapters are brilliant.”

My throat closed up. My love life was taking a nosedive but at least I would have my writing to help me pick up the pieces after it crashed and burned.