Eighteen
Silas
Entering the kitchen, I notice a note on the fridge, and coming to a halt, I pull the piece of paper free from underneath the heart-shaped magnet. Stacey has a lot of heart decor around the house. Does she think surrounding me in them would help make up for me having a bad one? Was it another thing to give me hope? Why am I questioning her so much lately when before I never bothered to? She was late because she was late. Work made her grumpy. Exhaustion and her fear of hurting me were the reasons for her sleeping in a different room the four years before the surgery.
Turning on the nearest light allows me to see the pink pen ink better.
Silas,
I won’t make dinner today. We’re short staffed again at the restaurant and Elijah asked if I could come in at the last minute. I’ll see you later tonight. Don’t wait up.
Love you, Stacey.
She’s missed a lot of dinners this past month. I can’t remember the last time we sat at a table together or when I last woke up to her in our bed. Elijah sure is needing her a lot lately. Is he at the restaurant today too? I’m better off not knowing where he is. I’ve been avoiding all his usual spots for over a week, not finding the same joy at the new places I went to instead.
Shaking my head, I fold the letter and shove it into my back pocket. At work I’d managed to keep my mind occupied with orders and ideas for flower arrangements, and I sang to every song the radio played on my drive home. Then I see his name on a piece of paper and he’s everywhere again. The need and want is back.
Saying it out loud is more satisfying, and each letter feels like it belongs on the tip of my tongue. No. I did say we’d be friends but clearly that’s impossible. I only said the words because the alternative didn’t feel right, and after what we did so close to the home I share with my wife it still doesn’t. My chest aches whenever I think about telling him to stay out of my life permanently, more than going behind Stacey’s back again. So I kept my distance instead.
What’s wrong with me? I don’t feel dirty like I should and my inner shame has lessened. What’s really strange is that Stacey’s starting to feel like the other person, not him. Nothing about my recent emotions has been logical so I can’t continue acting on them. Elijah’s not only filling more space in my head each day, he’s threatening to own all of my heart.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I bang my fists so hard on the fridge all the magnets jump. Slamming my head on the cool metal has them crashing to the floor.
After I pick them up, I take a hot shower. I keep my eyes open the whole time, because whenever I close them Elijah creeps back into my memories and I start picturing him stepping into the tub behind me, touching me everywhere. Fuck. Stomping my feet nearly causes me to slip in the tub and I grip the wall, pressing my face into the cold tile, feeling defeated. My tears blend with the hot water and I curl my fingers, digging my knuckles into the wall, my nails stabbing the inside of my palms.
I’m going out of my mind. My obsession with dying has shifted to him. Focusing on either does me no fucking good. I don’t step out of the shower until the water goes cold. My chest feels heavy and my heart is jumping all over the place. Grabbing a towel from the cabinet above the toilet, I dry off and put on some comfortable clothes. They fit me better than before, no longer drooping off my body. I’m better but I feel sicker than ever.
Not wanting to stay home and continue thinking about everything I shouldn’t, I pick up food for Stacey in hopes of surprising her at work. I’ll have dinner with my wife. We’ll talk, spend time together, and my mind will have no choice but to stay where I am—where I belong—with the woman who’s been there with me from the beginning. She’s made me her whole world all this time and I need her to be mine again. All these late and long hours of working are for me.
I’ve been tearing us apart all along without knowing it. We’re strangers because my illness kept her everywhere I wasn’t. Me cheating on her only creates a bigger gap, and if it keeps spreading, I won’t be able to reach her anymore. I have to come clean. Tell her the truth. I’ll get the proper help I need. What if what I need is another new heart? What if nothing will ever get me back to who I was before, no matter what I do? What if I’ve truly lost the old Silas? What if he was lost before and I’ve finally found him?
Pulling up in front of the restaurant, I grab the takeout bag and head inside. One of the server’s immediately meets my eyes when I walk in. “Evening, sir. Table for one?”
“No. I’m actually here to surprise my wife with dinner from somewhere else for a change.”
“Oh, who’s your wife? I’m happy to grab her for you,” the young blond guy says, stretching out his neck to make himself appear taller.
“Stacey.”
“Stacey Adams?”
“Yeah. Is she not due for a break soon?”
Shaking his head, he fidgets with the menus in front of him. “It’s not that. She isn’t here today.”
Knots lodge in my throat. “No? She said she’s been asked to pick up shifts all week. Maybe I’m getting the days mixed up.”
His eyebrows rise. “Are you sure she meant this week? She hasn’t been in since last week and isn’t on the schedule again until next week.”
My blood boils. Easy. There has to be some explanation and you’re not perfect either, remember? Give her some grace, because you’ll sure as hell need it on the receiving end. “That can’t be right.”
“I’m sorry, but maybe you heard her wrong and she’s at the hospital.”
Nodding, I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Waving him off, I exit the restaurant and send Stacey a text message.
Me : Where are you?
Stacey : At work like I said I’d be. Why? Did something happen?
Me : At the hospital?
Stacey : No, the restaurant. Why? What’s wrong?
Me : Nothing. I guess I got confused is all.
Stacey : It’s because you haven’t been sleeping well. Get some rest. The doctor gave you meds to help with that. Use them. Please. You won’t fully heal if you aren’t sleeping.
Of course she’s blaming my health. She got away with it before. How long has she been lying to me? Where did she really go a week ago when she said she stayed alone at a hotel? Where is she today? Wherever she is, Stacey has been there this whole week instead of where she told me she’d be. Instead of with me.
“ We don’t lie to each other.”
She means we didn’t used to. We’d have to be who we were before first. We aren’t anymore, and I’m thinking we haven’t been since long before the surgery. Me being sick and her caring for me was all we had holding us together. It was hard to see before and the distraction keeping us from the truth is no longer there.
If I didn’t know what it was like to kiss Elijah and have his mouth wrapped around me, it would be easier to convince myself the grass isn’t greener on the other side—that once I had him, I wouldn’t want him again. His kiss is with me every day, along with the feel of his warm lips and how our bodies came so easily together. The taste only has me wanting more. So much that my bones feel uneasy and seeing him without touching him only makes me more restless inside.
She was all l knew and Elijah was something different, but there’s more to him than that too. He created a longing inside me, and continuing to ignore it is only causing a fever to burn through me.
Getting into my car, I toss my phone on the driver’s seat. Stacey’s where she truly wants to be, so maybe I should go where I’m being pulled to as well. No longer trying to convince myself to fight against it, I drive out of the parking lot and head toward The Drunk Librarian.
When I first arrive I park across the way, watching customers enter and leave. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen each other. Pretending not to feel well, and blaming my change in meds, I asked Reese to deliver the lilacs in my place. Being anywhere near Elijah’s husband’s funeral felt wrong—like I was intruding on something—and I was worried my heart would feel more wrong in my chest if I got too close to the body it might belong to.
The dreams turned into nightmares the night before too, and I woke up as soon as a doctor wearing a blue mask started slicing down the center of my body. As real as the fear I experienced felt, an intense pain pierced my skin, shaking me to my core, and I woke up gasping for air. Stacey wasn’t there when I opened my eyes and I reached for the empty space beside me. She never is anymore, and it’s not her I was reaching for anyway.
Speeding up erratically, my heart slams against my chest when bits and pieces of my recent dream flash in my mind. Last night, I fought to stay awake and failed. More bad dreams came, and this time they were extracting more than my heart. Why would I dream about that? Why does my brain keep going to dark places, and why are the memories of them harder to shake after looking at Elijah’s husband’s obituary in the newspaper?
I know the answer, don’t I? Ignoring it feels better than embracing the truth. Because that would mean these butterflies and my heart soaring whenever I see Elijah aren’t because of me alone, and it’s possible someone else is still in control of the events taking place in my life.
“Taken too soon, leaving behind a loving husband,” it said, the words tearing at my heart. He was buried in the ground only a week ago after a horrible boat accident, and here I am parked outside his husband’s shop, watching him like he’s always belonged to me. Like I’m somehow deserving of being in Landon’s place, when I’m not.
They were each other’s everything. I’m nothing more than a lost man suffering some mid-life crisis, who walked into Elijah’s life during a time of despair. He was searching for comfort after having his whole world shattered before him, and would have found it in anyone. Can he feel Landon inside me? Is that what this all is? The both of them trying to find each other again and me standing in the way?
He doesn’t want me. I want to say I don’t want him but my heart and actions say otherwise. My mind, body, and soul do too.
Smiling from afar, Elijah carries a woman’s books to her car and waves goodbye before stepping back inside the shop. He doesn’t look for me. Has he before today? If so, when did he finally give up?
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze the steering wheel and glance in the mirror. My face has filled out, my cheeks aren’t looking as hollow or frail. I never thought I’d see myself like this. I didn’t think I’d watch myself exiting my car to be closer to a man I’ve only known a short time either. My shoes slam against the pavement as I increase my pace, searching for cars as I rush across the street. I don’t enter the store until the last customer leaves and Elijah is alone.
“Welcome to The Drunk Librarian. How can I—” His words catch in his throat when his eyes land on me. “Silas. What are you doing here?” he asks, tilting his head, and I hate how much space stands between us. It’s almost painful—the empty air gnawing at my skin.
“I just needed to be,” I say, my heart beating in my ears.
“Only today? You weren’t there to deliver the flowers. I thought something happened to you.” Setting down an empty glass, he steps closer.
“No, I . . .” I lick my dry lips. “I didn’t think it was right to go. I was worried I’d lose control and do something stupidly insensitive.”
“Like?”
The memory of his warm, irresistible mouth takes hold of me, causing my mouth to water at the thought of another experimental test. Only, I no longer need to test anything. There’s no doubt my body wants him—I want him. The desperation and agony spiraling through me tell me we’ve surpassed the wanting stage. What I feel is more of a need. He’s a beautiful, steady stream outside the rocky path of my life, and I’ve never been so damn thirsty.
My body reacts quicker than my brain as I shove him against a wall of books. “Like this.” Running my fingers through his hair, I seal our lips together. He doesn’t fight or go still like I expected him to. His body relaxes into mine and his tongue surges between my lips, sweeping over the roof of my mouth, urging mine to move with it. Rocking into him, I deepen the kiss, plunging my tongue inside his welcoming warmth, and my skin buzzes. It’s like time has stood still and nothing else exists or matters but us.
Our tongues go to war, fighting for control as our lips remain locked, and my heart flutters. We swallow each other’s heavy breaths and his hips dig into mine as our cocks grind together. Instead of alarms sounding in my head to stop, all I can think about is how much better this would feel with our clothes off. Heat spreads between my legs, and when my tongue dives back for more, he presses a hand to my chest. “Hold on. Stop.”
Too wrapped up in arousal and the way his body calls to mine, I keep smashing my lips to his, and he grabs at my hair, forcing me back.
“Silas. Look at me. Are you sure about this? The last thing I want is for you to feel like a bad person because of me again.”
“Yes,” I rasp. “At least right now.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good enough answer. This could possibly destroy your marriage and I’d hate for you to regret anything we do.”
“I’m not so sure I have much of a marriage left to ruin. I didn’t realize how lonely I’ve been until I met you, and when we’re together are actually the only times I don’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong. It doesn’t make sense. I know it doesn’t.”
Smiling softly, he strokes my cheek. “The good things in life never do. Landon and I didn’t make sense to anyone.” He chuckles and releases a soft sigh. “He once said to always take the good when it comes and never question it even if the timing seems off. Someone somewhere is sending it to you for a reason. Because they know you’ll need it soon.” He sucks in a breath before slowly releasing it. “It wasn’t until I was standing in that cemetery, telling him goodbye, that I really heard his words. I realized then how much I could really have used the good during a really bad time but you never showed.”
“You sure I’m a good thing?”
“The alternative certainly doesn’t fit, and this week was much harder to get through without you in it.”
Me, or Landon’s heart nearby? I still don’t know if it’s his for certain. If I never find out for sure then I can keep pretending this thing between us is real. That it’s me who wants him, and that it’s me he wants back.
“It was hard for me too. I . . .” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I look down at the screen, Stacey’s name pops up.
Stacey : I’ll be home in an hour, so you better be on the couch ready to watch movies with me all night.
I shove my phone in my pocket, my mouth going dry. “I have to go. I . . .”
“Shouldn’t be here. I know. But it never stops you anyway.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you around, Elijah.”
“You just got here. How about you get what you came for first?” He tugs on my belt loops, rubbing his lips over mine, breathing me in. “I’d hate for you to waste a trip. You can’t say you’re okay with this and then walk away right after.”
Closing my eyes, I press a hand to his chest. “I can’t. I need to go. Just because I’m okay with it and want it doesn’t mean I should. You were right. It could destroy what I have left with Stacey.” What do we have left, though, when there’s no longer trust and so many broken promises?
His breaths quicken, and when I open my eyes, his pin me in place. “I don’t see you moving.”
I pull my hand back and he puts one of his on my hip.
“I can if you stop touching me.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he lifts his hand up my shirt. “Like this?”
“Yes,” I croak. “Don’t.”
“Don’t do this either?” He licks across my lips.
“I . . . no.” My words come out broken.
“Or this?” His fingers slide inside my pants and underwear, teasing my crack. I gasp out a breath, my body feeling like a live wire is running through it.
Stacey. I have to remember Stacey. She’s at home. But the only place that feels like home is here. My eyes water, throat tightening as I fight back a whimper when he reaches closer to my hole. I finally yank away from him so fast my back hits the wall. “I’m sorry, Elijah.” My jaw tightens, and my face tensing doesn’t stop the tears from falling. I back up closer to the door and he reaches for me.
“Silas,” he says, striking a chord in me.
“Fuck. This is why I didn’t want to give you my name. Why I never wanted to hear you say it.”
“Why?” Tilting his head, he frowns, and when he grabs my hand I shake him away.
“Because, like your touch, I didn’t want to know how much I preferred it to . . .” I shake my head, taking a deep breath that goes for so long it burns my lungs.
“Preferred it to what?”
“To her.” My voice shakes and I scrub a hand over my face. “Fuck, Elijah. I want this to feel wrong. I need this to feel wrong. It only does when I’m home.”
“Then stay.” His fingers wrap around mine and I don’t pull away. “Let us both enjoy the good for a little longer. Whenever you’re gone and I’m alone, darkness wraps itself around me like a cloak and I feel like I’m suffocating all over again. Stay, so I can be surrounded by sunshine instead.”
Unable to use words, I nod, slipping my bottom lip between my teeth. He reaches behind me and locks the door, and I cup his cheek, stroking the scar above his eyebrow. His hand slides over mine and he kisses my nose. His lips move to my forehead then each of my cheeks, before finally reaching my mouth. My fingers slide into his hair as he kisses me harder, lifting me by the hips. I wrap my legs around him and he carries me to a back room, setting me on a cherry-wood desk with a dent in the center. I study it closer, rubbing a finger over the rough edges. It was hit with someone’s fist. I look up at him and he sighs.
“Rough day.” He chuckles, sliding a laptop and stack of papers out of the way. Glancing behind him, I spot only one thing sitting on the small shelf on the wall—a napkin in the shape of a duck. I smile, wiggling over the dent.
“It doesn’t matter right now.”
“No. Nothing else does.” He kisses me again and only stops to take my shirt off. His lips press to my neck, shoulder, chest, and over my scar. Smiling up at me, he licks at one of my nipples and takes it between his teeth. I never realized how sensitive they were. He sucks and bites lightly. My head falls back, eyes rolling in my head when he sucks the other one into his mouth.
“So beautiful,” he whispers against my hard nub. “Everywhere.” He licks his way up my neck and attacks my mouth again, exploring every crevice with his tongue.
“I need . . .”
“What, Sunshine? Tell me what you need.”
The term of endearment has me melting against him, my body going boneless in his arms. “To feel you more. Your skin against mine.”
He tugs off his shirt and I shake my head. “More than that.”
His eyes darken, lust burning in the brown irises. He undoes my pants, licking his lips as he removes my dripping cock from my underwear. With shaky hands, he slides his jeans and underwear down in one go, stepping closer to me, his wide hips breaking my legs further apart. Nails digging into my thighs, he slides me closer to the edge of the desk and lines up our cocks. He’s thicker than me, uncut, and his skin is two shades darker—closer to a mauve color than a rusty pink like mine.
So warm and throbbing, his cock touching mine is already growing addicting. He wraps his large fingers around us both, stroking us languidly together, and needy moans crawl up my throat. Not only did his mouth feel incredible, but so does this. Beautiful sensations scatter along my skin when he starts rocking his hips and fucking between his hand and my cock.
Watching us rub together, his swollen head smashing against mine over and over brings me closer to the edge. Skin slaps against skin and I grind against him, shaking and temporarily blacking out as heat explodes inside me. His cum mixes with mine as he meets me in nirvana, licking inside my mouth and going slack against me.
“Fuck,” he says against my lips. “With anyone else this would feel too fast, but with you it’s like everything has moved in slow motion.”
The room doesn’t stop spinning so I close my eyes, resting my face on his sweaty chest. He smells so good, his musky scent so different from Stacey’s softer, sweeter smell. I inhale him deeper, rubbing my skin to his, still needing to feel him more. All the fucking time. The dreams don’t compare to having him in real life. “I really need to go now.”
“You’re still not moving.” He runs a hand up and down my back, pressing a kiss into my hair.
“I can’t remember how.”
“Then wait until you can remember again, and when the bad gets to be too much at home, come back to me for some more good.”
“What are we even doing? What does this even mean?”
He sighs heavily above me. “I don’t know, but it’s the only thing that doesn’t feel hard right now. I don’t have to pretend to be what I’m not with you. I just am. The smiles and laughs are real.” He hooks his fingers around my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his. “You make me want to be here again. It scares me, though.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not ready to feel like I have something to lose again.” The muscles in his jaw twitch.
My phone buzzes and someone knocks at the front door. We both tense. “You answer that and I’ll see who’s at the door.”
“Yeah, okay.” I reach for my phone. He tugs up his jeans and tosses on his shirt, adjusting his clothes as he walks toward the front. I stare at Stacey’s name flashing on the screen before finally answering it.
“Hello?”
“Where are you, lover?”
I hate that damn name. More now than I did before. “Sorry. I had to take care of something at the flower shop.”
“Okay, well, hurry and get home to me. No more stops along the way either.”
“Okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” At least physically. I stare at the empty space where Elijah once was. Mentally, I’ll still be in this office smelling wine and books and being Elijah’s sunshine.