“And that excited you, didn’t it?” Like giving a kid chocolate for the first time.
He suddenly looked nervous before finally obliging me, “I suppose, in the beginning.”
So much for pining for our broken relationship; he’d fucked himself through it all.
“Did you use condoms at least?”
My question was intrusive, but had it been me in the situation, I knew he’d be worse than me. Blake was meticulous about protection until Sienna—so for Toby to go with or without it with Amelia—it would give me a better scope of how deep his connection was with her.
“Lucy—” he warned, turning a bit red.
“Did you? Or did you not?” It was plain and simple.
“No, she was on the pill,” he huffed out, irritated at my nagging. “No more questions; I’m done answering.”
I had one more then I would be through with this. “I just need to know one more thing…”
Shutting his lids, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, he said, “Go on, ask me.”
“Courchevel. Christmas. Did you fuck her there, too?”
His eyes immediately snapped open. “Let me explain—”
“There’s no need. I just want to know the outcome. You did, didn’t you? While I was only a few doors down from your bedroom…” I was digging my grave and I knew it, but this detail was important for me. It was vital.
“Yes… I did, and I’m sorry for that.”
I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. I had waited every night for him to seek me out, but he had never come. That was the first time I had seen him after we’d broken up, and I had seen him with a new woman at his side. That was when he’d really broken my heart, and it had never the same since.
“I need to go to the bathroom—” The acid churned in my stomach. It agonizingly simmered, mixing along with my pain, boiling until it was ready to erupt.
“Now?” He panicked as he pulled off me before cradling my body towards the bathroom. “Tell me what to do—” he said frantically while I shook my head, covering my mouth with my hand.
Hovering around the toilet area, I managed to hold down the vile that was threatening to come out. “Close the door. I need to be alone.”
He did as I asked. At the sound of the door latch locking in place, all the sickening, evil retched out of my stomach. Everything came out—the past, the present and the future—until I was left with nothing, like an empty carapace.
You’ll always be this way if you stay with him, my heart whispered like a warning.
I wished I knew what to do. In a sense, I knew what the right thing to do was, but my main problem was how to go about it without hurting myself more. I knew what it felt like not having him in my life. True, I had been living, but that was all it had been, living and breathing. With him came the pain and heartache, yet I had never felt more alive, and at times, when I let it, we were happy.
The knock on the door made me flush the toilet before reaching out for a face towel. I was on my feet when the door pushed open and then remained hovering around the entrance, looking as bad as I did.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked in a hollow voice.
I shook my head, reaching for the faucet to wash my face. “I’ll be fine.”
Once I finished, I felt him move to the side, giving me space without saying anything.
Dizzy from exhaustion, I strode straight to the bedroom and slid into bed, curling like a ball as I closed my eyes, hoping I’d wake up tomorrow and the sorrow in my heart would no longer exist.
The bed dipped before I felt his warm body next to mine, pulling me against his chest, hugging me from behind. His warmth brought comfort, making me feel secure and safe. At that moment, I desperately needed to know that he would be there for me, and I was glad that he was.
“There are not enough words to tell you how sorry I am. I wish there was something I could do to make everything go back to the way we were. I hurt when you hurt,” he said succinctly. “I hope this doesn’t make you leave me again. Give me time to make this right; I won’t stop until we’re back to how we once were. Don’t give me up just yet, I beg you.”
“Just hold me,” I whispered. “Please.”
All night he held me. Not once letting me go. I took that as I sign. That maybe we just needed time to heal together.
+++
The next day, Toby decided to take a day off from work and go with me to my flat in Covent Garden. He had just hired an assistant the other day. He’d also found an office building close to where Blake’s South Bank was located, so that was brilliant for convenience. He had also asked Chad to do most of the interior decorating. Everything was coming along, and I was thrilled for him and the next step he was embarking on for his future.
After last night’s ordeal, he became more attentive. He would always reach out for my hand, kissing me whenever he could—the little things that counted most, he did right.
And, in a way, driving back to my flat with him looking at me with that look of awe felt like that first night we’d dated.
“Just like the old times,” Toby announced the second we opened the door, walking inside. “This place holds mostly good memories.” That made me smile. At least we had something in common.
“Yeah. It sure does.”
He spun around in the living room, pulling me towards him. “Two years worth of fighting and making love mostly done in this apartment. I remember the first time I came here and never came out until five days later… Do you remember any of that, Luce?”
Funny how I had been just thinking that earlier…
“How could I forget?” I gazed at him and butterflies immediately went amuck in my belly.
“We couldn’t get enough of each other.”
“Yes, the good, old days,” I agreed with a ting of sadness.
There we stood, in the middle of the room staring at each other, before he broke the spell after a minute.
“Do you still have those videos?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, searching.
What was he talking about?
“What?”
He barely glanced at me as he went through my DVD collection. “Of you and me? Random videos that we took of each other and made into a movie?” he gave me the rundown before it clicked in my ever so slow functioning brain.
He was talking about that. Why was he looking for it? That video was an embarrassment… for my part anyway.
“Somewhere in the room… I think,” I reluctantly said. “Why?”