Chapter 11
MARCUS
~The beginning of the end.~
(Three and a half years later…)
I grab a pack of Tylenol and a bottle of water, then go stand in the line so I can pay for it. Lately, it’s been my lunch every day.
As soon as things quiet down at work, I’ll go see a doctor. In the meantime, the Tylenol will just have to do the job.
I decline a bag and shove the Tylenol in my suit pocket. When I turn to leave, someone takes hold of my arm.
“Marcus?”
We hold up the line as I stare at her, too shocked to react immediately.
Fuck my life.
“Can you wait while I pay? I’d love to hear how you’ve been,” she says.
I take a step to the side, never taking my eyes off her.
Willow.
The woman who drove me to alcohol. Now there’s a time in my life I don’t want to remember. Jaxson threatened to commit me to rehab. That’s how bad things were.
Willow.
We went from being friends to sending each other generic birthday and Christmas messages.
“What’s it been? Four years? How are you?”
It’s been three years and five months. I’ve tried not to keep count, but it’s hard when she sends me a reminder every birthday and Christmas of what I lost.
“I’m good. How are you?” I’m surprised that my voice sounds as if I actually don’t give a fuck, even though I’m the furthest thing from calm right now.
I should tell her to go to hell, but instead, my eyes are glued to her face. I drink in everything about her. She looks exactly the same, still fucking beautiful.
“I’m great. Do you have time to have coffee with me?”
My eyes drop to her smile, and it feels like someone is slamming a sledgehammer into my gut.
That smile.
Fuck, the sun used to rise and set with that smile. Then she ripped it away from me, leaving me in perpetual darkness.
“Sure.”
Wait! What?
Hell no, I don’t want to have coffee with her. Have I lost my fucking mind?
“There’s a coffee shop across the road.”
Yes, I’ve lost my mind. It must be the headaches. What the fuck am I doing following her out of the drug store? Shit, her ass is still sexy as fuck.
“What are you doing in this part of town?”
“I came to see a client. I saw the drug store and stopped for something.”
I’m torn between wanting to spend just a moment in the light with her and walking away before she burns me again.
We find an open table, and place our orders before Willow asks, “How’s business?”
“The business is great.”
I have to snap out of the stupor.
Her eyes drop to my left hand, and for some reason, it makes me angry that she’s trying to figure out whether I’m married or not.
“I’m still single,” I bite the words out.
“You’ll find her one day,” she says, but I don’t miss how her smile falters.
I make a point of looking at her left hands. “He hasn’t proposed yet?”
“Who?” She frowns, which means she ended our friendship for some random fuck.
“This is a mistake.” I get up, and without looking back, I leave her sitting at the table.
Or at least, that’s what I think until she calls after me.
“Marcus, stop!” She catches up to me and grabbing hold of my arm, she tries to hold me back.
Three years and five months’ worth of anger spews from my mouth, and I don’t care that it’s happening on the side of the road.
“What do you want, Willow? You decided to end our friendship. You didn’t even bother discussing it with me first. I fucking let you in, and you sent me a dear-fucking-John message. All for some random fuck? Was that all I meant to you?”
She takes a step back as if I actually slapped her.
“Don’t look so fucking shocked,” I hiss. “I saw the two of you just before you sent the message.”
“Saw who? When?”
I close my eyes as the headache starts to pound against my temples. I can’t do this with Willow. I need to get home.
“I saw you with the guy the Saturday morning after you made a scene at the launch. You couldn’t wait to jump into his arms. I hope the fuck was worth it.”
I don’t have the energy to deal with Willow. I start to walk again, and I’m just about to cross the road to my car when she calls out.
“The only man I saw that day was my dad.”
Fueled by years of rage and hurt, I swing around and stalk back to her. “Do you actually expect me to believe that?”
“I’ve never lied to you. When I got home from the launch, I was upset. I phoned my dad.” She gives me a pleading look. “You saw my dad, Marcus. If you don’t believe me, I’ll call him right now. You can ask him yourself.”
No, that can’t be.
It’s been years since her dad’s played basketball and I last got a glimpse of him. Is she really telling the truth? It feels like I’m being tossed around in a sea of emotions.
“Your dad?” I whisper as the life drains out of me.
“Yes, he came to pick me up so I could spend the week at home.”
I feel nauseous as I realize what that means. I gave up on Willow because I thought she was seeing someone else. If I had known back then the man was her father, I would’ve fought for her. The message she sent me wouldn’t have been enough to keep me away from her.
“Wait a second. Why were you outside my apartment that morning? Why does it matter whether I was seeing someone back then?”
I take a deep breath and do my best to calm down. I can’t believe a fucking assumption is responsible for our friendship ending.
“I wanted to talk to you. I thought if we could clear the air between us, that I could ask you on a date.”
She inhales sharply, and I watch as the blood drains from her face.
“A date?”
“Yeah.”
“But you were sleeping with that brunette.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. “What brunette?”
“The one I saw you coming out of the elevator with at the launch.”
I still don’t know which brunette she’s referring to. I have to think hard to remember what happened that night. I was working late with Logan.
Oh shit.
“That was Logan’s secretary. We worked late,” I say harsher than I mean to.
“You didn’t sleep with her?” It’s Willow’s turn to look as if the ground has been ripped from beneath her feet.
“No.”
“You wanted to date me?” She looks like she’s about to cry, which I really can’t handle right now. I need to get home so I can puke my guts out.
“Can we continue this some other time? I don’t feel well at the moment.”
“Will you really meet with me so we can talk about this, or are you blowing me off?”
I let out a tired breath. “I’ll call you, Willow. I can’t do this with you right now.”
I cross the road and get into my car. I focus on getting myself home and only make it to the kitchen when the little food I’ve managed to eat earlier, comes back up. I drop to my hands and knees as I empty the contents of my stomach on the floor.
God, it feels like I’m dying.
My stomach feels like it’s being put through a grinder. I close my eyes against the light, but it does nothing to relieve the pulsing ache in my skull.
It takes the last of my energy to clean the floor. I drag my body to the shower and get in with my clothes still on. Sinking down to my ass, I lean my head against the cold tiles as the water rains down on me.
“Marcus.”
It feels like I’m being dragged through sludge, and it takes forever for me to peel my eyes open.
“Marcus.”
Jaxson’s face comes into focus, and it’s filled with worry.
“What happened to you?”
I glance around me, and I’m confused when I see that I’m sitting in the shower. My suit is soaked, and the stale taste of bile almost makes me hurl again.
“I don’t know. I think I puked.”
Jaxson helps me up, and I stumble to the basin. After brushing my teeth, I try to remember how I got to the shower.
“Did you eat something bad?” Jaxson asks as he grabs a towel.
“Yeah,” I mumble. Fuck, I’ve never felt so out of it before. Even at my drunkest, I could still undress and get my ass to bed.
I struggle to get the wet jacket off. It’s a blow to my ego when Jaxson has to help me get out of the clothes. I wrap the towel around me and start to stumble in the direction of the bed.
“Dude, I’m taking you to the hospital. You could have food poisoning.”
I sluggishly fall across my bed and mumble, “I’ll be fine. Whatever I ate is already out. I just need sleep.”
“I’m staying the night.” From the determination in Jaxson’s voice, I know it won’t help to argue.
“Fine.” I hardly get the word out as I start to drift off.
∞∞∞
It took me half the morning to convince Jaxson that I’m fine, even though I feel like death warmed over.
I stare at the message I just received from Willow, thinking about what happened between us.
Do we give this thing between us a chance, or do we go on with our lives?
Knowing that she didn’t intentionally hurt me, makes a difference. Hell, we both screwed up. I’m just as guilty as she is. If we didn’t jump to conclusions, we’d probably still be together.
Maybe we should at least try and go on one date, and see how we feel afterward?
Maybe not.
I guess the only question I should be asking myself is whether Willow is worth the chance?
I take a deep breath. There’s no way I can walk away from her, especially now that I know she was upset because she thought I was screwing around.
She was upset because she cared for me.
That makes all the difference in the world.
I reread her message before typing my reply.
Willow: Please can we meet for dinner?
Me: My place. Saturday.
∞∞∞
WILLOW
I’ve been on edge all day. I’m filled with anxious excitement, knowing that I’ll be seeing Marcus in a few seconds.
I stare up at his apartment building as I take a deep breath.
“Stay calm. Don’t panic. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. Don’t mess it up again.”
Yeah right, I’m only getting myself more worked up with the stupid speech.
“Here goes nothing,” I whisper as I walk through the entrance.
My heart starts to hammer wildly as I walk down the hallway, and when I reach Marcus’ front door, the thing is ready to beat right out of my chest.
I send up a little prayer that things will work out and then knock.
I hear movement on the other side of the door, and it makes my excitement spike sharply. When Marcus opens the door, I immediately start to talk.
“I have something to say. Hear me out before I lose my nerve. I’m sorry I got drunk at your launch. I saw you with a brunette and assumed you slept with her. I was hurt and overreacted.”
It’s so good to see him again. I have thought of him every single day over the past three years. It feels like only yesterday that I got drunk at the launch.
“Also,” I add quickly as he’s about to say something. “I really need to get this off my chest. I’m not sorry for falling asleep on your couch. I’m definitely not sorry for sleeping on top of you. It felt amazing, and I hate that I had to pretend that it was awkward.”
He smiles, but I hold up my hand as he opens his mouth to talk.
“And.” He chuckles, and the deep sound washes over me like cool rain on a hot summer’s day. “I can’t be friends with you. I want more. I need more. Do you think there’s a possibility that you could have a romantic relationship with me? I know it will take time, but if there’s the slightest chance, I’ll be patient.”
When I take a breath, and I’m about to rattle on, Marcus places his finger on my lips.
“Are you going to stand outside the whole night, or would you like to come in?” he asks playfully.
“I’d like to come in,” I mumble against his finger.
He takes hold of my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. When his arms wrap around me, I press my face into his chest.
I try to swallow back the overwhelming feeling of happiness, but a tear still manages to sneak over my cheek. I wipe it away and wrap my arms around his waist. He moves one hand to the back of my neck and holds me tighter as he buries his face in my hair.
After a few minutes he turns us away from the door, and I hear him closing it before he resumes holding me.
I can stand like this forever.
Breathing his familiar scent, I still think nothing will ever smell as good as Marcus.
Hearing his heart beating against my ear, I know it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.
When he pulls back, I reluctantly let go of him. Nervous about where we will go from here, I tuck some hair behind my ear and smile shyly up at him.
“I’m sorry I got the wrong idea when I saw you with your dad,” he says, as his eyes lock with mine.
Those eyes. I missed them so much.
My entire world is captured in the piercing blue of his eyes.
“I got us Chinese,” he says as he turns and walks to the kitchen. “I got those spring rolls you like so much. At least, I hope you still like them.”
“I do, and I’m starved.”
We fall back into our routine as we move the food to the coffee table, and sit on the floor while we eat. Our eyes keep wandering back to each other, which makes us laugh.
I lied when I said I was starving. I have no appetite and judging by the fact that Marcus isn’t touching his food, tells me he feels the same.
I manage to eat one spring roll. I can’t force anything else down. Marcus cleans up, while I pick a movie.
When he sees that I’ve picked The Notebook, he shakes his head.
“What? I think it’s fitting,” I defend my choice.
“Don’t blame me if I fall asleep,” he warns playfully.
“As long as you know I’m leaving your ass on the couch, Pretty-Boy.”
When the intro to the movie starts, Marcus whispers, “There’s still a lot we need to talk about.”
I move to pick up the remote so I can pause the movie, but he stops me.
“Not now. Let’s watch the movie first.”
“Okay.” Feeling a little uncertain, I lean back against the couch.
Marcus might as well talk now because there’s no way I can focus on the movie.
He must sense my uneasiness because he reaches for the remote and turns off the TV.
I swallow hard as I look at him. I didn’t expect everything to fall right back into place, but my nerves can only take so much.
The corner of his mouth twitches which makes mine spread into a smile. When a sad look crosses his features, my smile dies a quick death.
“There’s a reason I don’t date,” he says, and the words make goosebumps spread over my arms. Not the good kind.
This is the part where he tells me once more that he can only offer me friendship. I close my eyes as I wait for the blow.
“Remember I told you my father shot me?”
My eyes pop open, and I frown. That’s not what I expected him to say. Marcus never talks about his past. When our friendship started, I tried to get him to open up to me, but I gave up when he made it clear that talking about our pasts were off limits.
“I remember,” I whisper, hoping that he’ll finally open up to me.
“I was ten.”
I want to reach out to him, but he gets up and walks to the kitchen. I’m not sure if I should follow. I glance over my shoulder and watch as he pours a glass of water. I can’t be sure, but it looks like he’s taking some Tylenol.
He comes back and sits down, but this time he turns his body towards me. When he lifts his eyes to mine, and I see all the sorrow, nothing can stop me from reaching for him. I take hold of his hand and squeeze it tightly.
“My father killed my mother and little sister. When I woke up the next day the life I knew was gone. Everything I loved ended overnight.”
The impact of his words slams so hard that I can’t even suck in a breath of air. I can’t imagine what he’s been through. I come from a loving home. The kind of horror he lived through… it’s unthinkable.
“Letting someone in means, I have to open myself up to losing another person.” He clears his throat which gives the words time to sink in.
“Oh, my God,” I gasp when I realize what I did to him. “Just as you let me in, I left you.”
My body moves before my mind can recover from the awful realization. I throw my arms around his neck and plaster myself against him.
“I’m so sorry, Marcus. I never would’ve left if I knew that. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Now I understand why Marcus kept everyone at a distance. Knowing the pain and fear he’s been living with, makes my heart break for the man I love.
I pull back and bring my hands to his jaw.
“I promise I will never leave you again. It’s okay if we can only be friends.”
Marcus just looks at me for a few seconds, then an awkward look settles on his face. I’ve never seen that look before.
I let go of him, not wanting to make him feel more uncomfortable than he already does.
“It’s going to take time. Let’s take things slow,” he clears his throat before he continues, “Really slow. I need to get used to the idea of dating.”
Wanting to put him at ease, I joke, “I don’t expect us to jump into bed today.”
Marcus lets out a burst of laughter. “That’s the only part I’m really good at.”
I shove his shoulder playfully. “You’re such a pervert.” I pull a face. “I suck at it.”
Marcus tries to keep a straight face, but when I realize what I just said, I burst out laughing.
“I don’t mean I suck at it. I meant I’m not experienced in the bedroom department.” Feeling a blush creep up my neck, I quickly change the subject. “Let’s start off as friends. We can catch up on each other’s lives and take it from there. I don’t want to force it.”
“That sounds good,” he says, sounding relieved.
Feeling happy with the progress we made tonight, I get up.
“I’m gonna go. Will I see you for dinner next Saturday?”
“Sure,” he says as he walks me to the door.
I press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad we talked about everything. I really missed you, Pretty-Boy.”
“Let me know when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”
“I will.”
I can’t stop smiling as I walk down the hallway. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but right now I’m happy.