Chapter 24 – Breaking Hearts

I eased back into the bed in Alex’s Manhattan apartment. He called it “ours” but it no longer felt like mine.  The room hadn’t changed since I was last here; the familiarity was both comforting and surreal. I was different, even if the room was not.

I had been discharged from the hospital after a week. The bruising had started to yellow and I was handling the pain with mild analgesics. The hospital shrink had agreed that my recovery would be expedited from home, rather than a hospital ward.  Dr. Sarah Hart had made me commit to weekly therapy sessions as a condition of my discharge. Waste of fucking time if you ask me. Sitting around playing the poor me card was not in my repertoire but I was done staring at the sterile, white washed walls of the hospital and needed out so I agreed to her terms.

The media storm was starting to wind down too, originally I couldn’t turn on a TV or pick up a newspaper without hearing about the “Horrific attack on Alex Stone’s wife” or “Lexi Reed, publicist for Power Station sexually assaulted by psycho ex-boyfriend.” Matt and Anna handled it beautifully, despite some of my “friends” feeling the need to weigh in. What do you know? My Christmas card list just got a hell of lot shorter (if I actually wrote Christmas cards). Publicity whores!

I had gotten the muted, obligatory concern from my family. I knew it was more about keeping up appearances and not actual concern. I no longer cared, that part of my life was over and I had no emotions left for it.

My real family, my friends, rallied around me. They refused to speak to the press, making my recovery their sole concern. The band, who had been once my job, closed ranks and showered me with support. I was theirs and they didn’t take kindly to one of theirs being messed with.

Alex was flawless in his dedication and attentiveness. He was fiercely protective, installing 24-hour security, which meant I was now being shadowed by a bodyguard.  I tried to argue but Alex refused to yield, the only concession he gave me was allowing me to choose the appointee. DarNell had been my choice, if I was going to have a babysitter it was going to be someone who would understand me and not offer unsolicited advice.  DarNell fit the bill.

“You hungry baby? Doctor says you need to eat and you haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Alex sat on the edge of the bed. Last night had been strange for both of us. While we shared the same space, he was hesitant toward me. He’d held me but it felt strained, distant.

“No. Maybe I’ll get something later.” I mumbled as I thumbed the remote through the ridiculous number of channels. How can there be in excess of a hundred different choices and there be nothing to watch?

Alex laid gently beside me, his astonishing blue eyes following the lines of my body. It had been so long since he’d touched me, not in the everyday sense of the word but really touched me. In the past we rarely went ten hours without some kind of sexual contact, let alone ten days. We’d often joked about who was the biggest fiend, it’s what we were. We had an insatiable need for each other.  It was like a switch had been flipped, it needed to be turned back on, for both of us.

Something inside me stirred, I needed to feel close to him. I was desperate to bring back some of what we had had before it was stolen from us. I needed to have Alex’s hands on me, feel his naked skin against mine. I wanted to feel him in me.

I tossed the remote to the side and twisted to face him. He watched me curiously as I stretched out my hand and ran it against the gentle stubble of his jaw. The little hairs bristled under my fingertips, slowly awaking other feelings in me. God, he was good looking.

I leaned in closer and allowed my lips to brush against his. They parted, welcoming my tongue as it licked the edges of his mouth. He kissed me tenderly but I felt the hesitation, he was holding back. 

“Alex,” I whispered in between kisses, “I want you.” My hands followed down his amazingly sculptured chest, the thin cotton of his t-shirt doing little to hide the hard expanse of muscle.

“Lexi,” he closed his eyes as he continued to kiss me. I clawed back through the distance; yes this is what we needed. I needed him to erase what had been done to me before. I needed for my body to feel sexual again.

I ran my hand down to the fly of his jeans. I was met with the rock hard swell of his erection, straining against the front of his jeans. Yes, he wanted this too. I moaned as my hand palmed him, giving him the delicious friction I knew he craved. I needed to feel him, feel that he still wanted me.

“Lexi, No!” Alex’s hands gripped mine and pushed them away. “It’s too soon, we need to take it slow.” His eyes darkened as he slowly moved back across the mattress. 

“C’mon Alex. I can feel how hard you are. I know you want this too.” I tried to soothe him as I shuffled closer. The polite gentlemen shit was cute but it’s not what I wanted to hear.

“Lexi, I’m serious.” He stood up, his rock hard cock leaving no doubt that while his mind was saying no, his body was saying a resounding Hell Yes!

“This” He grabbed his hardness in his hands, “It’s not about this. It’s barely been two weeks Lexi. You need to give yourself some time. Dr Hart already said you show the hallmarks of PTSD. I’m not going to compound that by doing something that I’m going to regret.” He dragged his hand through his hair. He was frustrated.

“Dr Hart said I may have PTSD. Big fucking deal! Show me someone who hasn’t had some kind of therapy? I know my body, I know what I want. I want you Alex, I need you.” I stared at him as he shook his head. Was I seriously begging him for sex? Maybe I was fucked up? When the hell did I start needing to beg for my husband to make love to me?

“You know what, fuck it!” I threw the covers off my body and strode into the bathroom. I locked the door and turned on the shower as hot as I could stand it. I stripped off my lousy excuse for pyjamas (one of Alex’s concert shirts and my panties) and climbed into the glass stall. I sunk to my feet, the hot water crashing over my head and body as I felt my resolve weakening. I cried. Big, ugly sobs. My chest hurt so much it felt like it was tearing apart from the inside. I was broken, damaged, a freak. Was I really some kind of fiend? Maybe wanting sex so soon after being raped wasn’t normal? No wonder Alex looked at me like that, with horror. Fuck! What must he think of me? Maybe in his mind, I’d somehow deserved it?

NO! He wouldn’t think that. No matter how mad he had been about my omission of truth about Marcy, the phone conversation and the visit, he had never insinuated it was my fault. I’d said no right? I had fought back right? Maybe I didn’t fight hard enough!? No! I had said no! it wasn’t my fault! That animal who took me against my will, it was all on HIM. I would not own this. Yet regardless of whose fault it was, here I was sitting alone, crying.

“Baby, please don’t cry. God, I’m sorry. Please baby let me in.” Alex begged through the bathroom door.

“Go away Alex!” I sobbed, ashamed at what I’d been reduced to. I didn’t want him to see me like this. He had already seen me weak and I couldn’t handle crumbling any further in front of him.

“Baby, it’s breaking my heart. Please open the door?” Alex pleaded. His fists pounding against the wooden bathroom door.

“Please... just leave.” I stuttered in a small voice, not wanting to lift myself from the mess at the bottom of the shower floor.

Alex stopped knocking. I quietly popped open the glass door and strained to hear if he was still there. A long, audible sigh confirmed he was.

“Ok. I’ll give you some space. I’m going to crash in the guest bedroom. Let me know if you need anything.”

I heard his heavy footsteps carry down the hall. Yep, this was great. I had tried to have sex with him and instead, ended up sleeping alone. God! Shut the fuck up! I brought my fists to my head as the pounding increased. He did what you asked him to do, you told him to leave and he did. What did you expect?

I was hurt, rejection rippled through me. I knew it wasn’t logical, yet the intelligence of the argument was wasted on me. I was also seething with anger and confusion. No wonder he was keeping his distance. I was certifiable. Maybe I needed to start taking those “happy pills” Dr. Hart had prescribed for me, the ones I vehemently denied needing. Paging the men in white coats, crazy moody bitch in aisle two requiring a clean up.

I wobbled as I stood, my head spun from the quickness of my change in altitude. I used the walls to steady myself as I shut off the water and pulled a fluffy oversized towel over my body. I let the warmness of the Egyptian cotton envelop me as I rubbed my body. Almost as a punishment, I towelled my limbs harshly. My skin blushed pink from the vigorous pat down. I needed to feel. Right now all I had was pain. I ran a comb roughly through my tangled mane, not bothering to blow dry it. Fuck it! Who cares if I got sick? I left my towel and dirty clothes piled on the tiles, not having enough motivation to carry them to the hamper. Fuck it! I repeated in my head as I strolled naked into the bedroom.  Standing at the jamb I peered down the hall and saw that the door of the Guest room was shut. No light. No noise. I knew that’s where he was but I couldn’t make myself go to him. I couldn’t beg. I needed him to want me, as sick and depraved as it sounded. I needed him to crave me. My inner disapproving feminist just flipped me off as I stood on the threshold.  Go the fuck to bed, Lexi Reed. This is not Twilight and you are sure as shit are NOT Bella Swan.