24. Saar
Chapter 24
Saar
I need emergency coffee.
Celeste
That tired?
Lily
I think she means a coffee meeting.
Celeste
Merde. The pregnancy brain.
Lily
I have a day off. Can be at Cora’s in 30 mins.
Great. Thank you.
Celeste
Are you okay? We’re going out with Cal. I’ll cancel.
Don’t. It’s okay. I’ll just talk Lily’s ears off.
“ Y ou look better. Glowing? If married life is this good, I may give it a try,” Cora greets me with a smile and throws her apron behind the counter. “Sanjay, I’m clocking off.”
Her employee, busy at the coffee machine, nods.
“I slept for more hours than I have in weeks, but I’m certainly not fucking glowing,” I groan and march to our table.
“What’s wrong?” Cora plops down beside me, her smile gone.
“Let’s wait for Lily.” I sigh.
“I’m here.”
I turn, and sure enough, our petite friend is barreling around the tables to reach us.
“What’s the emergency?” She sits down, wiping a strand from her face and adjusting her oversized, ill-fitting glasses. “You look good.”
I groan. “Yeah, my skin is all refreshed.” I can’t help the sarcasm in my tone. And feel like shit about it. These women don’t deserve my bitterness.
And they are right, several hours of good sleep, and I lost the deep shadows under my eyes. Several hours of mind-blowing sex with Corm and I gained a new glow.
Fuck. If only it wasn’t all so complicated.
The hollow feeling inside me keeps spreading despite my outside appearance.
“What happened?” Cora asks.
My eyes move from her to Lily and back. Over the course of the last few hours, I’ve been stunned, in denial, upset, in denial, frustrated. But mostly in denial.
And that was when I thought that Vito’s betrayal was my only problem.
Now, I’m just hollow.
I tell them what Corm found out about my manager, the man I trusted. The man I considered my friend and mentor.
I don’t tell them about another man in my life who confessed his commitment to our relationship, and casually threw around the notion of having babies with me.
That particular issue makes me feel all sorts of feelings, ranging from livid to strangely excited. He must have fucked my brains out.
But there is too much drama happening in my life at the moment to even unpack that baggage.
Well, I can be telling myself that, but that would be yet another denial. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t appreciate his bullying manner of professing his intention, but I find myself strangely intrigued by the idea.
It’s preposterous really, because there are so many red flags when it comes to me and Corm as a couple, let alone as parents. And yet… what trips me is that he is the first man I could imagine a long-term relationship with.
But that’s another problem. Right now, I’m trying to unpack the Vito bomb.
And based on Cora and Lily’s shocked faces, the explosion is palpable.
“I’m so sorry, Saar. That level of betrayal from someone you trust…” Lily reaches for my hand. “It’s heartbreaking and violating, and so fucking damaging.”
Cora glimpses her way, with her eyebrows raised. “Agreed, a great summary, but no comfort.”
Lily shakes her head. “I mean, I can’t possibly imagine.”
Something tells me that her words were closer to home than she lets on. That she can imagine from experience.
“Yeah, I walked from the grasps of my father right into that one. The only difference is that my father at least didn’t pretend he cared.”
When I woke up this afternoon, Corm’s body beside me was comforting. It felt like home.
But if I want to find my figurative home with yet another man—another person—I need to first take control of my life. Come to a new relationship with my feet firm on the ground.
For a moment, the intimacy I felt in his bed scared me. If I accepted him and gave us a shot, wouldn’t I be just moving to yet another person to control me, to betray me?
As I watched him there, sleeping peacefully, his chest moving, his face so serene, I decided I won’t let my fear and my past come in the way of my happiness.
There is a lot the two of us have to figure out, but that doesn’t diminish the support and care Corm gave me.
Realizing that, I decided to act fast and get my fucking trust fund. Gain my financial independence, so I can be an equal partner.
“Saar, you didn’t deserve this,” Lily says.
For the first time since I was fifteen, a tear rolls down my cheek. “Don’t I, though? It seems to be the pattern of my life. A pretty face who can’t take care of herself.”
“You were fifteen when Vito gave you the opportunity. Promised the world to you. After your shitty parents, you were in no position to recognize he was a predator,” Cora says.
“Or in a position to take care of your finances,” Lily adds. “Is there anything we can do?”
I shake my head. “Thank you. Right now, I don’t even know what to do.”
“Kill fucking Vito,” Cora mumbles. And I love her for being so indignant on my behalf.
“I’m in.” Lily doesn’t miss a beat.
I chuckle. “You’re both good friends. But I’m not letting you rot in jail for that weasel.”
“I’m so mad.” Cora stands up abruptly. “Who wants something stronger? I have vodka in the back.”
“I’ve never drunk vodka,” Lily says.
I look at her in shock. “Seriously? You’re not that young.”
Sometimes, I think Lily ran away from some commune or alternate universe. Her appearance aside, she’s polished and well-spoken to a point that doesn’t fit with her dire financial situation.
But who am I to judge? I have no money and no education. She probably has at least the latter.
“I’m just not a big drinker, I guess.” Lily looks away.
Cora brings a large teapot and three cups.
“What is this?” I frown.
She sits down and pours us each an inch into the cups. The scent of alcohol hits my nostrils.
“I don’t have a liquor license. We can’t do this openly here,” Cora whispers, looking around like she could be caught any minute.
“I feel like a criminal.” Lily giggles and brings the cup to her lips. “Ew, I don’t think—”
“It’s not about the taste, Lils. It’s about the feeling and the buzz. Just down it,” I instruct, and do just that, closing my eyes as the burn hits.
Cora follows and immediately refills our cups.
Lily scrunches her face but then joins in. “I hope the buzz comes quickly.”
I giggle, and it feels so good, but then I remember… everything… and I quickly down another shot. “So to put a nice red bow on all my problems, I went to see my father’s lawyer.”
“About your trust fund?” Lily downs the second glass and grimaces.
I nod and pick up the teapot, refilling our cups. The scent of the spirit lingers around us. “Turns out my father dissolved my trust fund and forgot to inform me.”
“What a prick.” Cora salutes with her cup and drinks. We follow.
“Your father stole your money?” Lily slurs her words a bit.
I snort. “It doesn’t even surprise me. The level of shit my father did to me, and even more to my brothers, already conditioned me to expect the worst from him.”
“What did Corm say about that? That kind of voids your agreement with him.” Cora pours us another round.
“I came right here after I found out.”
“Wait, if you went to see the lawyer…” Lily speaks with a bit of an effort. Or maybe it’s me who follows with slight difficulty. “Is your marriage legit now?”
“Yeah, the irony… Corm finally relented and got me the marriage certificate, and it turns out I never needed it.”
“So your deal with him is over?” Cora asks.
That gives me pause. On paper, there is no reason for me to stick around anymore.
After last night, I feel our deal is over anyway. Or rather, he wants me to stay for him. not for another benefit.
The thought thrills me. Intrigues me. Scares the shit out of me.
It was easy to succumb to his vows last night when I was dazed from my need for him, and then later from all the orgasms.
It was harder to believe them when I woke up. No longer hormone-influenced, I panicked a bit.
Now, with some space and distance between us, I don’t know what I feel.
Confused. Excited. Terrified. Belonging.
The last one is a mixed feeling, though. The man made it clear how much he wants me. He cared for me even before he declared his intent to give us a real try.
If I’m honest, I want him too. The idea of putting aside our hatred and leaning into this undiscovered territory is appealing.
And it’s the only area where I don’t feel lost. With him by my side, I feel like something is going well in my life.
But can I find my other parts, rediscover myself, if I’m with him? If I’m his?
“He still hasn’t signed the deal that was dependent on his image lift,” I say.
“And you care about his needs since…?” Cora asks.
“That!” Lily clings her cup against Cora’s. “Have you developed feelings for the hot devil?”
I giggle. “We might have entered into a new phase of our relationship.” I bite my lip.
“Like beyond the bed-rrrooo…” Lily shakes her head. “Bedroom?”
I want to say yes, but we have experienced little beyond the bedroom since we decided—or rather Corm ordered—that we are trying this for real. I chuckle. “He is smoking hot.”
“True.” Cora sighs.
Shit, did I say that out loud? “We’re exploring.”
Cora chuckles. “They are exploring, Lily. Lily?”
Our friend is snoring softly, her head lolling.
“Shit, you got her drunk,” I tell Cora, and for some strange reason it makes me giggle again.
“Me?” Cora looks offended. “I’m pretty sure I only poured the first two.” She sways in her seat.
“Shit. I should go home.”
“Because your honey is waiting.”
“Hell will freeze before Corm Quinn can be called honey.”
Cora snorts. “Yeah, no honeys in Hell.”
“Hey.” I punch… the air since I miss her arm. “You’re right. He’s a devil. My devil.”
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
“What?” I jump, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
Disoriented, I look around. I’m in front of Corm’s house. Shit, did I fall asleep in the cab?
I wipe the drool from my face and get out, grateful the ground isn’t moving. Not too much, anyway.
The early evening’s fresh air hits my skin with cool relief. I’m still tipsy—that was a quick death—but the snooze in the car helped me a bit.
It didn’t help with my situation, but I’m not as drunk as I was when I left Cora to deal with Lily. Poor thing. We should have been more responsible with her.
I stumble up the few steps, leaning on the balustrade. I push the door open and trip over the stupid threshold.
“Ouch,” I yelp as my knees hit the tiles.
And finally, my life pushes me down to my knees, ladies and gentlemen. Quite literally. But for whatever reason, my current unflattering position breaks something inside me, and the angst of the last few weeks releases through a snort… or a giggle… or I don’t know what the sound is.
It starts a chain reaction, and I tremble on the floor with a half-laugh and half-cry. The tears are of an alcohol-induced irrational joy, and of desperation.
“Saar.” Corm’s voice comes from somewhere in the house.
My soul melts a little. It is like honey.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He squats beside me.
I wipe the hair from my face and look at him. Holy shit. His facial muscles are full of tension, a line creasing across his forehead. His face is full of worry.
And blindingly beautiful. It’s like he got even better looking while I was gone. I reach to trace my fingers around the scruff of his rigid jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”
He tilts his head and swears under his breath. “You’re drunk.”
He cups my elbow and tries to help me up. Unfortunately, the floor exudes a super potent gravitational field today. I slip or stumble or something, but the result is that I’m still more horizontal than upright. And hilarious.
God, it’s good to laugh. “I’m not that drunk anymore. I slept in the taxi. Wait… not a taxi—in an Uber. You don’t call it… like when you use the app; do you still call it a taxi? Is taxi a service or the actual yellow car?”
“For fuck’s sake.” He scoops me up bridal-style. “Let me get you to bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep. Let’s sit together on the patio. Maybe you can start the fire.” I grin at him. “I like when you carry me.”
He sighs, but he heads toward the patio. “Did you eat?”
“Hm, don’t be mad. I have been really trying to eat regu… re-gura-ri-ly. Fuck, that’s a hard word, but I didn’t get a chance today.”
My answer changes his trajectory, and he now heads to the kitchen where he sits me on the stool.
“You’re mad.” I pout.
He wraps his arms around me and smothers me in a hug. It’s comforting and worshiping, and kind of worrying.
“What’s wrong, Corm?”
He kisses the crown of my head. “Nothing, The Morrigan; I was worried.”
“Why?” I hiccup. “Oops.”
“Let me make you something to eat.” He saunters to the fridge, and my gaze lands on his ass. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats, and he’s positively edible.
“You should cook naked.” I slide from the stool.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Should I now?” The heat in his eyes sobers me up. A little.
My pussy awakens, full of memories from last night, and even more full of yearning. “Yes, I’ll join you.”
Shaking his head again, he puts a dish into the oven. “Well, at least you’re an adorable drunk.”
He opens the fridge and hands me an electrolyte drink. “Chug it.”
While there is a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, I can now see how exhausted he looks. I unscrew the cup. “Is everything okay?”
“You mean besides all the shit that is not okay currently?”
Another dose of sober pills. “Well, yes, but you look more worried. What’s going on, Corm? Do you regret marrying me already?” I keep grinning for some reason.
His eyes bore into me, his expression fierce. “The only thing I regret is that it took this long to get here.”
He leaves to get something in the pantry, and I drink because it’s easier than to look for the appropriate response to his admission.
It’s also probably helpful to sober me up a little more, so I can have a proper conversation with him.
I should tell him about my trust fund. But I fear he’d go into a full-blown Corm-to-the-rescue mode, and it will only piss me off.
He returns with a tray as the oven dings. The scent of thyme and tomatoes permeates the space between us as he scoops some pasta into a plate.
“You ate already?” I ask, trying to ignore the eerie feeling sneaking inside me. Something is off, but I don’t quite know what.
“I’m not hungry. Let’s go.” He picks up the tray now laden with my plate, cutlery, and a large glass of water.
“Where?”
“Your favorite place in the house.” He walks to the large glass patio entrance.
“How do you know it’s my favorite part of the house?” But of course he does. He notices things about me, sometimes before I do.
“It’s where I went down on you the first time.” He pushes at the door handle with his elbows.
I roll my eyes and follow him, the stupid grin still tugging at my lips.
While I finish the most delicious pasta I’ve ever had, Corm makes the fire. Sitting beside me, he takes my empty plate from me and hands me the water.
The food and the liquid have sobered me up, and I sigh as he wraps his arm around me. We haven’t kissed since before the Vito-geddon. I should just turn and press my lips against his.
Though kissing feels very intimate right now, and something feels off.
We watch the dancing flames in silence, and I try not to project, but Corm emanates tension even as he pulls me closer to him.
What a beautiful setup for a romantic evening—not that I’m into romance—but I’m consumed with insecurities.
Does he regret last night? Our conversation? Or rather, his declaration? Did he change his mind? Is he upset I didn’t wake him up before I left?
Fuck this. If we’re trying this for real, I’m not going to construct and guess. “What is wrong?” I ask.
“What did the lawyer say?” he asks at the same time.
I shift around on the seat, so I’m facing him, cross-legged. “My father dissolved my trust fund.”
I never wanted my father’s money in the first place. I went after it out of sheer necessity. In fact, only because Vito encouraged it.
He made me believe I deserved the hand-down from people who should have been there for me many times in my life, but they never were.
And still, my father’s decision stinks. It hurts while it shouldn’t. It spreads misery it doesn’t warrant. It burns inside me like acid, spreading through my organs slowly and painfully.
“How do you feel about it?” Corm takes my hand in his large warm one, but his gaze remains on the fire.
For a man who glares and stares, he’s avoiding eye contact a lot tonight.
“I mean, I was broke before, so that’s not a new feeling. I don’t know, getting drunk probably wasn’t the best way to assess or address the feelings, but it was a good way to delay my real reaction.”
“I’m sorry.” He bows his head, sighing.
This is not a sorry about the discovery. This sorry feels more significant. He’s not telling me something—
“You knew?” I search his face, hoping for his denial, but it isn’t there.
He finally meets my eyes and nods. “Yes.”
“How?” That is really not a question that matters at the moment, but my mind is misfiring in too many directions.
He looks at me deadpan. “The same way I knew you were at the club last night. Or what happened with your money.”
I push off the seat and slide farther from him. “How long have you known?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “For a while.”
“So you knew I don’t need this deal, and you didn’t tell me?”
I spring up and round the fire-pit table, creating a distance between us. I’m hurt, disappointed, outraged, confused. All at once.
In the absence of being able to yell at Vito or my father, Corm becomes a very satisfying target.
He stands up, our gazes colliding. I glare, and he pleads.
Standing above the flames, the yellow flickers of the fire dance across his beautiful face. And just looking at him is devastating.
I was shell-shocked when I found out about Vito’s betrayal—this—Jesus, was it only this morning?
I was deflated and hurt when I found out my father had disinherited me.
But neither of those revelations—however negative—gutted me as much as Corm’s admission.
The man across from me has been in my life for the shortest time, and yet it’s agonizing to realize I’m just a puppet in his show.
Just like I’ve been all my life.
“So you trapped me in this arrangement, even though you knew my only reason was no longer valid?”
“Saar.” He sighs, closing his eyes briefly.
I chuckle humorlessly. “Don’t Saar me. Let’s do this for real?” I mock. “It’s just a deal for you, after all.”
“That’s not true,” he roars. His nostrils inflate. He clenches his fists.
“So what, you kept that tidbit from me because you just fucking have to control everything?”
“I’m not trying to control you. I was trying to protect you. Protect us.”
“Protect us? There is no us, Corm. There was your illusion of wanting to own me. Demanding to own me. Well, fuck you. I’m leaving. I’ve been controlled by my father and then by Vito all my fucking life, I’m not staying with another asshole.” I rush toward the house, away from him.
“Don’t you fucking dare compare me to them.” He follows.
I whip around, glaring at him. “Then tell me, where is the difference?”
“I fucking didn’t tell you because I knew you’d leave.”
“And then you wouldn’t get your fucking deal.”
He grabs my upper arms and pulls me to him like he wants to shake me. “Because I wanted you to stay.”
“So you fucking wanted to manipulate me into a relationship?”
He sighs and closes his eyes again. His grip loosens, and I should run up to pack, but I don’t move.
I don’t move because there is hurt in his normally calculating expression. Or I’m wishing for it to be there.
“It was a mistake,” he says finally, and lets go of my arms. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
There is so much fucking honesty in that statement, it takes my breath away. This is so fucked-up. “So instead of asking me to stay, you tricked me into it?”
“You wouldn’t have stayed.” The finality of his conviction startles me. He truly believes I wouldn’t.
“Is this the reason you were delaying the marriage certificate?”
He flinches. “I was delaying it because I wanted to see how serious your gambling issue was… and I guess I was hoping you would want to marry me eventually.”
I blink. “You’re an idiot.”
“That’s clear now. Damn it, Saar, I fucked up. I was going to tell you after last night, but with everything about fucking Vito, and then you just left before I had a chance.”
Never have I thought I would hear desperation in Corm’s voice, or see it in his face. But it’s there, and it’s mingled with remorse.
The problem is, I want to stay. I want to forget and be with him. I hadn’t even realized how quickly this house became my home.
As fucked up as it is, I never truly had one, so I guess the little girl in me was just too eager to accept this situation as her home.
And as controlling as he is, Corm is caring and smart. Lonely like me, and a bit lost like me. He’s been encouraging and patient with me.
But I need to stand on my own two feet; otherwise, I can never trust again, to truly lean into a relationship.
I need to focus on my relationship with me, my body. I need to find myself, so I have something to offer in a relationship.
“I can’t stay.” My words squeeze at my stomach, spreading a nauseating pain. “Even if I forgave your manipulation, I would be completely dependent on you, jumping into the same fucked-up dynamic I’ve lived all my life.”
I turn and enter the house. Trudging toward the staircase, I try to swallow the stupid tears.
“No.” Corm’s voice halts me as I put a foot on the first step.
I don’t turn, but I don’t move forward. His footsteps approach, but he stops before coming too close.
Still, his scent hits me like the most potent drug, weakening my resolution.
“Don’t go anywhere. Stay here. I’ll go.”
Sighing, I turn to look at him. “That makes no sense.”
“Humor me.” He steps toward me. “It’s late; all your things are here. It makes no sense for you to leave now. Let me help you, please. Stay here. I won’t bother you. You take your time, hating me, thinking about things. Whatever you need.”
I want to back away, and at the same time lean closer. “I can’t take away your house from you, even for a short time. I don’t want to owe you and—”
“Then take that job finally, so money is not an issue in your head.”
Jesus, it’s easy for him to say. “It’s not an issue in my head only.”
“As far as I’m concerned, it is. I will take care of you, whether you like it or not.”
It’s strange when, after years of being lonely, I have someone forcing their attention on me so fiercely. It’s wrong, and yet intoxicating.
“Why?”
I should go upstairs, pack, and leave, and yet, deep down in my heart, I know his intentions are noble, not scheming. Are about me, not about that stupid deal.
His execution is all fucked-up, but despite being betrayed brutally in the last few weeks, months, years, I still trust this man. Or for some stupid reason, I really, truly want to.
I trust you, not because you gave me any reasons to trust you, but because somewhere deep down, I feel like you’re the answer.
Just like he confessed his feelings last night.
So I seek his confirmation for my insanity.
Because there is another thing I know deep down. If I leave now, we would be over, and I would be even more lost than I am now.
He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Haven’t I made myself clear yet? I love you, Saar.”
This should not make me want to stay, but it does. It does. Perhaps I’m a person who needs an audience to shine.
Who needs someone to support her and remind her who she is when she is lost. And maybe I always chose the wrong person before.
Maybe I can find myself while I feel safe and cared for. Even if I have to fight for my independence every step of the way.
Especially since the fight with this stubborn bastard ignites me more than anything else currently.
“Can you try to understand how hard this is for me? I gave you control in the bedroom, but in real life you can’t bully your way into my life. I need to think about everything.”
All my trust issues bubble to the surface and fight an ugly, bloody fight with my need to be loved. Loved by this controlling, demanding man who makes sure I eat regularly.
Will I give up on myself if I stay? Or will I give myself a better chance to find myself?
He nods and kisses my forehead. “I understand, baby. Get a job, so you can gain your independence and stand up on your own two feet. Because you’re capable, and there is no doubt in my mind you will succeed.”
Oh, what his praise does to me. And what it means to have someone believing in me. More than I believe in myself.
“Thank you,” I say simply, overwhelmed by his sincerity and by the unwarranted hope blooming inside me.
This man loves me.
He cups my face and kisses me gently. It’s just a peck, but the tremor it triggers is unreal, silencing the faint voice that is telling me I’m giving up too quickly. But perhaps this is just surrendering instead of fighting the inevitable.
“Find your ground, The Morrigan, but you’re fucking doing it from this house, and while I’m by your side.”
I open my mouth, but he captures my lips in an arresting kiss. And perhaps, sometimes, you need a controlling person in your life so you can fight harder for yourself.
And fight I start. “That’s—”
He puts a finger on my lips. “Non-negotiable.”