I hate every piece of me that I got from him. Pounding my fists into someone else to try and make myself feel better when all I feel is worse. It’s as if I could stand in front of a mirror, and the reflection I’d see would be that of my father.
Candace holds on to me, hands threaded in my hair, but not even her touch can take this misery away. Knowing that I can’t escape what’s in my blood. I hate that I scared her, but I don’t hate what I did to that guy. I’d do it again, and worse. I just hate that this ass**le has infected what Candace and I have. That he holds this power over both of us and has the ability to stir up so much pain.
When her grip loosens on me, I lift my head up, and I can see the torment in her eyes as she wipes the tears from my face. There’s blood on her fingers as I reach for her hand to hold, and I know it has to be Jack’s, so I walk her inside and straight to the bathroom. As she cleans her hands in the sink, I hop into the shower and watch the muddled, red water running off of me, taking his blood down the drain.
I can hear Candace crying, and my heart just crumbles to have her so upset. I’m terrified to see what this has done to her. She’s always been nervous of crowds because she’s always feared running into him. Now that it’s happened, I’m worried she’s going to shut down. Worried about what this has stirred up and awakened inside of her.
I quickly finish up, throwing on a pair of boxers, and slide into bed with her where she’s curled up, crying into her pillow. I scoop her in my arms, and it isn’t but seconds before I feel her tears running down my chest. Sliding us down in the bed and under the covers, I hold her close, and her loud cries begin to soften.
She draws her head back and then presses her lips to mine, but my stomach is in knots so it’s hard for me to do much of anything aside from keeping myself still.
“Make love to me,” she whispers before covering my lips with hers again.
I can’t do this. Not now.
“Baby, you’re crying.”
“I don’t care,” she says when she tugs me in and starts kissing my neck, but I don’t want to do this. It feels wrong, and she’s so upset. Pulling back to look at me, tears still spilling out, she says, “Kiss me.”
“Candace, you’re upset.”
“I need to be close to you right now. I want to get him out of my head, and you’re the only one who can do that for me.”
I roll on top of her, hating what I’m about to do because it feels so wrong when she’s hurting so bad. “Are you sure, babe?”
“Yes.”
The thought of making love to her in the shadow of him makes me sick, but if this is what she needs, I won’t deny her. As soon as I slip my hand under her top and take her breast in my hand, she starts pulling my boxers down. Rushing.
“Candace,” I plead, wanting her to slow down.
“Please, Ryan.”
Hearing her desperate voice, I take off my boxers and then sit back as I remove her shorts. She quickly strips her top off and pulls me down to her, urging me, so I go ahead and slide inside of her. Nothing about this feels right. With her eyes closed, she grabs my hips, wanting me to move faster, so I do. As she clings to me, and I give her a part of me that I never wanted to experience with her. She won’t look at me, and I don’t feel like I could even ask that of her. Holding on to my hips, she encourages me to thrust myself inside of her. I never wanted it to be this way with us. So disconnected and too fast.
I watch as she cries. She’s cried while we’ve made love in the past but for completely different reasons. It kills me to know that it isn’t me behind her closed eyes; it’s chaos mixed with me. It’s him, it’s that night, it’s this night, it’s everything I never wanted to bring into our bed.
Moving at the speed we are, it doesn’t take long for both of us to come, and when I roll off of her, I pull her close to me and cling to her, hating what we just did. My chest is heavy, and my throat is achingly tight. I reach down and find her hand, locking my fingers with hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers on a broken voice. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
And even though I never want to do that again, I would if it was really what she needed, so I tell her, “Don’t be. You take whatever you need from me,” because I’d give it all no matter how much it hurt me just to take away an ounce of her pain.
Waking in the middle of the night, I open my eyes to see light filtering from underneath the bathroom door. Candace isn’t in bed with me, and when I walk over to the closed door, I can hear her soft cries on the other side. Slowly, I open the door to find her sitting on the edge of the tub with her head in her hands.
Kneeling down in front of her, I rest my hands on her legs. She doesn’t respond to my presence, she just keeps her face covered as she tries to control the sobs that are breaking through.
“Talk to me, baby. Please.”
“It’s . . . I just, I can’t get it out of my head now.” When she lets her hands fall, her eyes are so swollen and red. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Her wrecked voice penetrates me, and I feel my throat begin to restrict again as I fight my own tears back.
“I’m so sorry,” I release on a hard breath. “I’m sorry I lost it like that and scared you.” I pause for a moment, and then admit, “I scared myself.”
She catches her breath and looks at me. She’s worn out, but I continue to talk.