(Three Years Later)
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me.”
I double-check my desk drawers to ensure I have everything packed as I peer at Cheryl from under my brows. This woman has been giving me all sorts of shit ever since I accepted the job at the State Attorney’s Office—the job she helped me get—and gave her my resignation.
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“You’re switching teams on me.” Sitting on the edge of my desk, she gives me a serious look, but I know she’s proud of me. “I’m going to miss working with you.”
I pull the last book off the shelf and toss it into the box. “Are you sure you aren’t relieved? You’ve spent the better part of the last seven years up my ass, barking orders at me.”
She laughs, and when I pick up the box, she follows me out to my car. I’ll never be able to thank Cheryl for everything she’s done for me. Without her, I doubt I would be where I am today. I graduated law school four months ago and just recently passed the bar exam. And now here I am, moving on to my new job working as an assistant prosecutor in the special victims’ unit. With everything that’s happened to Adaline, I knew this was my calling in life. It’s everything I set out to accomplish, but it didn’t come easy. It’s been a constant uphill battle in more ways than one.
I shove the box into the back of the SUV and close the hatch.
“If you ever want to come back to the defense side . . .”
Shaking my head, I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you. For everything.”
“All I did was give you a little job. It was you who spun it into a career.” She draws back, adding, “You earned every bit of this on your own.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
Her smile grows. “I can’t tell you how proud I am.”
After one more hug, I hop into my SUV and head back to the loft that I now share with Adaline.
These past three years haven’t been the easiest. We’ve been tested so many times, but through everything we’ve overcome and even the things we are still working on, we’ve remained committed to each other.
The hardest battle of all has been my addiction. I’ll never forget that first appointment with my doctor. I was a mess, but Adaline was by my side. She sat with me on that couch as I owned up to my problem and asked for help. Up until that point, the only person who ever knew my secret was Adaline, and to tell another person did a number on me. I was a wreck. And I was so scared, having no clue what my treatment would even look like. One thing my psychiatrist stressed was her concern with my relationship with Adaline. At the time, I wanted to tell her to fuck off when she told me we needed to take things slow and not to let myself become consumed with her. That my treatment had to come before anything else, including Adaline.
I remember sitting in my loft with her, begging her not to leave me alone, begging her to move in and stay with me, knowing I’d never be strong enough to restrain myself. She did stay that first night, but then she moved in with her mother until she found a place of her own. Not out of any anger or unwillingness to help me the way I wanted her to, though. She did it because that was what the doctor said I needed.
That first month was horrendous. I wasn’t allowed to jerk off or have sex and had to focus my energy on what was triggering my sexual thoughts. There was to be no more porn, sex chat rooms, live sex webcams, hookup apps, strip clubs, and everything else my life had become consumed by.
I knew I would fuck up, and I did.
My doctor immediately put me on an anti-depressant even though I wasn’t depressed. Apparently, they can sometimes suppress a person’s sex drive. In addition to my weekly therapy sessions, I also started cognitive behavioral therapy so that I could learn how to cope with my triggers and learn refocusing techniques.
For a while, I also did sessions with Adaline. It was a very dark time in my life. I screwed up often, unable to resist my compulsions. Sometimes, I would drown in utter binges of uncontrollable masturbating, and other times, I would find myself on my knees, begging Adaline for sex. She always held strong, though, picking me up and refusing to let me spiral. I wanted to give up, but Adaline never let me.
Stepping away from my sexual behaviors made me feel so empty. Removing the addiction created a vacant hole inside me, and I didn’t know how to fill it. Up until that point, my cravings ruled over me, and when I took that control back, I had no idea what to do with myself. Adaline and I struggled a lot as I adjusted to this new way of life—a life I had never experienced. I was scared and lost and extremely unhappy.
She never wavered, though.
It took a long time to come through it. So many ups and so many downs, mixed in with countless relapses I thought I’d never find my way out of. But it wasn’t just hard on me, Adaline has suffered, too. Nights of endless crying mixed with her breaking down and screaming, “I hate this addiction! I hate what it’s doing to you!”
More than anything, I hated what my addiction was doing to her.
Days aren’t so dark anymore. Not that I’m cured. There is no curing any addiction. And with this particular one, there’s no going sober. It isn’t like an alcoholic who gives up drinking. My addiction is sex—an addiction that I have to indulge in. It hasn’t been easy, and Adaline and I have worked hard to find a healthy balance with how often we engage intimately with each other so that I don’t lose control.
But I still lose control, just not as often as I used to.
Through it all, I’ve never once cheated. I never thought I’d be able to manage a long-term, monogamous relationship. I doubted myself often, but it turns out, sex addicts can be faithful.
It’s been a painful journey, one that will follow me throughout my whole life. There’s no way I’d be where I am today if it weren’t for Adaline. When she promised to fight this battle with me, she wasn’t lying. She’s been there through the trenches, in my moments of failure, and during my times of self-destruction, giving me hope that all is not lost and reminding me of how far I’ve come.
After two years of treatment and taking our relationship slow, we decided it would be a good time for her to move in with me. We’ve been living together for a year now, and words can’t express how happy I am that we took our time. That we didn’t rush. Taking that next step in merging our lives was what gave me the focus to keep going.
When I walk into the loft, I call out to Adaline, but she isn’t here.
Me: Where are you?
I go into the bedroom and change into shorts and a T-shirt.
Adaline: At the pool, watching the sunset. Hurry up. It’s almost gone.
I take the elevator up to the rooftop pool and find Adaline reclined back on one of the lounge chairs. She smiles, and my heart quiets as it does every time I see her. She’s still wearing the same dress she left for work in this morning. When she moved back to Tampa, it took her a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Eventually, she landed a job at one of the top advertising firms here in the city, where she specializes in media planning and social media marketing. When she sits up, I slip in behind her and then pull her back against my chest.
“How much time do you have off until you start the new job?” she asks as she stares into the horizon.
“A week and a half.”
She twists between my legs and looks up at me with a soft grin. I remember the night I told her that I had accepted the job in the special victim’s unit. She cried, and as I wiped her tears, she thanked me. After so many years of feeling worthless, in that moment, she made me feel as if I was the most important person in this world.
I run my fingers through her long blonde hair. “What’s that look for?”
“I was just up here thinking about how crazy life is.” She exhales a breathy giggle. “I can still remember my first day of school and how I tried playing it cool when we crashed into each other.”
“That was you playing it cool?” I tease, and she pinches my ribs in loving retaliation. “Any regrets?” I ask on a more serious note.
Her eyes drop from mine, and when they reach me again, she murmurs, “A few.” She then sits up, and she looks so beautiful with the sun glowing behind her, illuminating her as if she were an angel—maybe she is. “There is one thing I’m certain of, though. There hasn’t been a single day that I regret my decision to come back to you.”
“How can you say that with all the shit I’ve put you through?”
“Because the only life I want, is any life with you.”
I take her face in my hands and look into her eyes that have seen me at my absolute lowest. There were a few times I told her to run even though I never truly wanted to lose her, but she never did.
Bringing her in, I kiss her, tasting a life I never thought existed for a guy like me, a life filled with the promise of hope. She smiles against my lips, breathing into my mouth, “I love you.”
The moment I swallow those words, I’m overcome with the power they hold in a way I’ve never felt before. It takes me by surprise, and when I pull back, I see what I’ve always seen—my everything, but somehow it feels more profound than ever before. I’ve always needed her in a way I’ve never been able to articulate. She says I’m soul-consuming, but she has it all wrong.
It’s her.
It always has been.
I feel the same way she does. The only life I want is a life with her.
“Marry me.”
Her eyes widen in shock, and this time, it’s me who doesn’t waver.
“Marry me,” I say again as I watch tears fill her eyes and a smile spread upon her lips. “Show me just how good life can be.”
Her expression turns from shock to excitement as she begins giggling when she says with unbounding joy, “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek of:
A story of forbidden love and the unimaginable consequences that come with it.
3:12pm
ONLY THREE MORE MINUTES LEFT of my junior year. Three more minutes to go until summer begins.
“I can’t wait to officially be a senior,” Linze says, twirling a lock of her golden hair from the desk next to mine.
“I know. It’s gonna be great.”
“I need to find a boyfriend before the end of summer though. There’s no way I’m starting senior year as a singleton.”
“A relationship is not what you want, and you know it.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs in agreement. “Let me rephrase that, I need to find a boy to kiss on who’s loyal to me and only me.”
We both laugh.
Most people find her spitfire personality over the top, but not me. Linze and I have been best friends since middle school when her family moved here from Los Angeles. She was born with sunshine in her blood, while I was born with red dirt in mine. Oklahoma, America’s heartland where nothing exciting ever happens, has been my home since birth. The day Linze arrived was the day this state notched up on the coolness meter.
“Sit down, boys,” Mrs. Lancaster groans from behind her plastic-rimmed glasses, which sit crooked on her face. Our teacher, whose expiration date has come and gone, still shows up loathing each day more than the one before.
“High school guys are so annoying,” Linze says about the kids at the back of the class who are making a ruckus.
I tune out the obnoxious testosterone behind me and turn back to my friend. “What time do you want me to head over tonight?”
“Whenever. Sooner rather than later though.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to hit the water for a little while and get some laps in.”
“You never quit, do you?”
Smiling, I grab my backpack from the back of my desk as the second hand nears the end of its final rotation to freedom.
An eruption of cheers and exasperated “Thank Gods” bounce off the painted cinder block walls when the final bell of the year rings. Chairs and desks screech against the tile floors as students flee the classrooms.
Linze and I weave through the crowded halls, and I’m whisked off my feet in an instant.
“Seniors, baby!” Kroy boasts loudly, sparking excitement within me.
With my arms wrapped around his neck, I smile at his boyish charm before kissing him as the student body swarms around us in total chaos.
“This is why I need a boyfriend,” Linze shouts over the crowd. “You two are disgustingly perfect.”
Kroy plants me down on my feet. “What’s got your panties in a wad, Linz?”
“Don’t get her started,” I tease. “Long story short, the girl needs to get laid.”
Linze shoots me a snarky eye. “Oh my God! For a virgin, you sure talk like a slut.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll surely find a boy to kiss on tonight.”
“Party at your place, right?” Kroy says as he walks with me tucked under his arm.
“Yep! I gotta run though. Call me when you’re on your way, okay?”
Before I can respond, Kroy cups my face in his hands and backs me up against the lockers, mumbling between kisses, “Maybe we can fix that virginity problem tonight.”
Nudging his ribs, I playfully try to push him away, but his large frame doesn’t budge until he glances to his left.
“Coach Hale,” he acknowledges in an even tone, taking a step away from me. “How are you doing, sir?”
“Do I need to reiterate the school’s policy on PDA?”
“No, sir. Just a celebratory peck was all that was going on.”
“Dad,” I groan under my breath. “Why are you always giving him a hard time?”
“Because you’re my little girl. It’s my job to harass your boyfriend.”
“The shotgun wasn’t enough harassment?” Kroy questions, to which my father responds, “Not even close, boy,” before clapping his hand on the back of Kroy’s shoulder and letting loose an endearing chuckle.
Kroy grew up down the street from me. He used to pick on me when we were younger, but that didn’t stop us from playing. Our families have always been close, and it came as no surprise to my mother when he eventually asked me out on a date our sophomore year. My dad, on the other hand, had a bit of a hard time with the idea and made sure to be cleaning his shotgun when Kroy came over to pick me up for our first date. I know that behind my father’s intimidations, he holds a great deal of respect for Kroy, so I don’t worry.
“What’s this party I’ve been hearing about?”
“Just a party,” I tell my dad, throwing an innocent smile behind my words.
When your dad is a history teacher at your high school as well as the head swim coach for the team you swim on, nothing is secret. He hears it all, which is why I make sure to fly under the radar and keep my reputation intact. Not that I have anything to hide. I’m just your typical seventeen-year-old. I’m an A student, have lots of friends, and I keep out of trouble for the most part. Like I said, nothing major really happens in this town.
“Is there going to be alcohol at this party?”
“Kroy, help me out here.”
“Your boyfriend can’t save you from my interrogations, sweetheart.”
“Then tell me what will, because my junior year just ended, and you’re kinda putting a damper on my mood.”
“Coach Hale!” echoes from down the hall from a couple guys on the swim team who are pumping their fists in celebration as they clear out of the school.
“I don’t seem to be dampening their mood,” he defends with a boastful smile.
“You’re not their dad.”
“Don’t worry, sir. She’ll be with me, and I promise nothing will get out of hand,” Kroy interjects.
“She’s my princess—”
“O-M-G. You are so embarrassing!” I exclaim, tossing my head back in loving annoyance as I start to back step away. “I’ll call you later, Kroy.”
“Where are you off to?”
“The pool,” I tell him before looking to my dad. “Come get me when you’re ready to go.”
“The new coach was here earlier, but I think he might have already left and locked up.” As he says this, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the keys. “Here.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Keys aren’t needed when I find the doors unlocked. I look up to the small office that overlooks the pool and spot a guy who must be the new assistant coach.
He sees me and steps out to the top of the stairs. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m going to get in a quick swim.”
“I’ll be locking up in a bit.”
“Coach Hale is my dad,” I tell him. “I rode with him today. Figured I’d get in some laps while I wait for him to finish up in his classroom.”
He leans his elbows on the railing. “So, you’re Cam?”
I nod.
I can’t help but to stare. He’s years younger than my dad and has perfectly styled, thick brown hair. His T-shirt and gym shorts wrap nicely around his tanned, athletic-cut body.
“Holler if you need anything. I’m just finishing up some paperwork before I head out.”
He walks back into the office as I make my way into the girl’s locker room.
While I change into my drag suit, the murmurings of a few girls catch my attention. Apparently, the new coach has fulfilled the embodiment of their schoolgirl fantasy come true. There’s no denying his good looks and physique, but the guy’s gotta be in his thirties.
My dad has had the same assistant for the past six years, but Coach Barlow’s wife just had a baby, and they decided to move to St. Louis to be closer to her family. I really liked Coach Barlow. He and my dad led us to more wins than I can count, including my holding the school’s record for the fifty-yard sprint.
Swimming has always been my thing, and something my dad and I have always been able to share. He spent his high school years in the water and went on to swim for the University of Oklahoma on partial scholarship.
I’m a daddy’s girl through and through. We’ve always held a special bond, which is different from the relationship I have with my mom. I guess every child has that something special with one of their parents. Not that my mother and I don’t get along. We absolutely do. But with my father, there’s this indefinable connection.
I just don’t look at him; I look up to him.
I’m a sprinter just like he was. I not only hold the school’s record time for my division, but also the state’s as well.
Call it an obsession.
Everyone else does.
But I don’t care
Team sports have never appealed to me. It’s knowing that I am the one who holds all the power to win or lose without having to rely on anyone else to carry any of the weight. No one can let me down but me, and when victory comes my way, which it often does, I know it’s mine and only mine. In the water, I’m at battle with myself. Even though girls swim on either side of me, eager to take what I strive to claim as my own, I’m alone. Nothing exists in the water but my will to beat my last best.
Time outside the water no longer exists when I dive in. I glide above the black stripe beneath me that guides me through my laps. The burn in my shoulders spirals through my muscles and down my arms, warming me into euphoria. This is my high—my drug of choice.
No one can take this rush away from me.
I ride it out until the fire in my lungs becomes too much for me to tolerate, and I break through the water’s barrier to find Coach Andrews on deck above me.
“Good times for an afternoon swim.”
He offers me his hand and helps me out of the pool. Taking the towel I left on the deck, I dry off.
He watches me closely as he takes a seat on a block. “I thought your father was exaggerating the truth when he was bragging about you. Clearly, I was wrong.”
I wrap the towel around myself. “You’re Coach Andrews?”
“I am, but you can call me David,” he remarks. “After everything your father has told me about you this past week, I feel like we could be old family friends.”
“Oh, God,” I moan with the onslaught of mortification. Lord only knows what my dad told this man.
“Don’t worry. He didn’t say anything that would embarrass you too much.” He chuckles under his breath, and the smile creases the skin at the corners of his eyes, making something inside me flutter.
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
“He’s proud. And he should be with a daughter who can pull a fifty-yard free in twenty-three point two one.”
“I heard Tulsa got an out-of-state transfer a couple weeks ago,” I say as I take my swim cap off. “Held a record in Arizona at twenty-three point two nine.”
He rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “You worried?”
“Dad hasn’t mentioned her to me, so yeah, I’m a little worried. I mean, next year is the year.”
“He probably didn’t mention it because he sees no reason to. You’re the state record holder. Keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be fine.” I look at him wearily, and his smile widens. “You worry too much. It’s the last day of school, and here you are in the pool, stressing about next year’s competition when you should be out doing whatever it is you kids do.”
“And what about you?” I accuse in jest. “Shouldn’t you be out doing whatever it is you teachers do?”
“You’re right.” He hops down from the block. “Go hit the lockers so I can lock up behind you.”
“No need to wait. I have my dad’s keys.”
He takes a step toward me and rests his hand on my shoulder, igniting my skin in some unknown electricity. “Do me a favor, will you? Have fun this summer. Swim, but make sure to have some fun.”
I give him a nod and watch him like a punch-drunk teenager with a maddening crush as he walks out the double doors.
Once dressed, I run up the stairs to the office to call my dad’s classroom from the school’s phone. I dial his room number and see that Coach Andrews left his portfolio on the desk.
“Coach Hale.”
“Hey, Dad. How much longer till you’re ready to go?”
“Five minutes.”
“Okay, I’m on my way now.”
Grabbing the notebook, I sling my backpack over my shoulder before heading out and locking up.
“How was your swim?” my dad asks as I walk into his classroom.
“Good.” I hold up the portfolio. “Coach Andrews left this in the office.”
“You met him?”
“Yeah. He’s nice.”
“Is he already gone?”
I nod.
As we head out, Dad calls his cell, gets his address, and tells him we’ll stop by his house to drop off the notebook.
We pull out of the parking lot, which is nearly empty at this point, and I turn in my seat. “Hey, Dad?”
“Hmm,” he acknowledges, turning the car out to the main road.
“I was wondering if you would consider extending my curfew tonight.”
“Nothing good happens past eleven o’clock.”
I roll my eyes. “Nothing good happens ever, Dad.”
“Then why do you want to stay out?”
“Because it’s my last summer before senior year. Because I want to hang out with my friends. Because I deserve it. Because I make straight As. Because I never get into trouble. Because you can trust me.” I give him an exaggerated smile when we come to a stop at a red light before adding, “And because I’d never do anything to disappoint you.”
“You know how much I love you, right?”
“So, is that a yes?”
He hesitates and then looks at me with just a hint of a smile.
“You make a compelling argument, sweetheart.”
“I learned from the best.”
The light changes to green, and I keep my eyes fixed on my dad. His handsome face is marked by years of laughter. When I see a truck coming toward us, the lines etched around his eyes splinter into fractals that reflect a kaleidoscope of lights and colors. Tires squeal loudly, piercing my ears like needles. An explosion of glass detonates around us with a crashing so loud I feel the reverberations inside the depths of my chest.
I can’t breathe.
Everything moves in slow motion as metal shears its way off the car, screeching against the pavement as we are pummeled across the intersection. Fire spits its flames through my scalp when my head collides with glass, and I’m thrown through the passenger-side window. My dad blurs as distance grows, and the space between us is severed by a spray of glittering shards that sprinkle all around me like shooting stars through the blackened sky, lighting it only for a moment before they burn into nothingness.
And then everything goes black.
Secret Lucidity
A forbidden romance novel
Coming February 26, 2018