Chapter 32
ELI
From the balcony of my bedroom, I stare at the ocean below.
Tracking its movements in and out like it’s breathing, each slow wave cresting, folding back into itself as if being pulled back into the darkness below the surface.
It sighs, crashes, and roars as if alerting surfers and early morning swimmers that it’s waiting for them, ready to seize the day.
From above, it looks like silver snakes winding this way and that, carving subtle paths through the deep, inky ocean.
This has always been my favorite part of the day.
Between worlds: when the sun seems to give the moon a much-needed break. It’s a smooth transition, one blending into the other, as the moon clocks out while the sun begins her shift, the half-light dancing across the ripples making them appear like sparkling veins.
When it’s just me, the sounds of waves crashing against the sand and the smell of salty air soothe me, grounding me. This is the time when I know I can just be. No paperwork, no files, no court cases, no court appearances, no stress, no checking, no aligning. Just calm.
As I sit here on the balcony, I almost dread the moment the sun rises for the day.
It’s when I start to get ready that my stress levels also rise, as my brain senses what’s waiting for me at the office: updates about Dad, client meetings, and emergencies that are all sent to test me. That’s when the urge to control things rushes in.
I wish I was still the guy where nothing fazed me.
I’m better, but still not where I want to be.
As I take another sip from the water bottle I grabbed from the refrigerator before I sat out here, movement from inside my bedroom catches my attention, and my pulse picks up a notch.
Sapphire.
She’s here, in my bed, sleeping peacefully, snuggling into my bedsheets that I might never wash again because they smell like her.
I’m not a sentimental man, but she makes me want to drop to my knees, fall at her feet, and tell her I would give her the world to ensure she never leaves me.
I know I can’t do that, and I know that’s my insecurity. I can’t keep her tied to the bed to make her stay. But now that I think about it, the image of Sapphire bound to my bed with my silk tie makes my cock bounce in my boxers.
Not now, Elijah.
I thought my chances of ever loving again were slim to none. Zero.
I was wrong. I know what falling in love feels like; I recognize the signs. The rush, the craving, the need to spend every minute of every hour with someone. But this time, it feels different, more intense. Like she’s already mine as long as I don’t fuck it up.
Since talking about Tia again, I’ve realized that I might not have loved her as much as I once thought.
If I had truly loved her, I wouldn’t have asked her to chase her dreams the way I did.
Deep down, I know that if I really loved her, I would have gone with her, but it’s taken me all these years for that awareness to finally hit.
Tia wasn’t right for me, and vice versa.
The gray haze and cloudy vision I’ve been experiencing are finally beginning to clear. My world looks bright and hopeful, just like Sapphire.
If someone had told me a few months ago that the day Sapphire Feelgood walked into my office would change how I saw myself, life, and make me question everything about what my perfect woman looked like, I never would have believed it.
Sapphire isn’t just perfect for me; she’s perfect, period, and has stirred something inside me. I feel like a kid on Christmas who gets the only gift he’s been asking Santa for, wrapped in beautiful multicolored ribbon and glowing as if sprinkled with fairy dust.
That dust of hers is so potent it makes me feel safe, grounded, and I can almost feel myself unwinding.
The way she looked deeply into my eyes last night as we fucked made me feel more connected to her than I’ve ever felt with anyone.
It was as if I truly belonged to her; in that moment, I felt completely calm.
No foggy head, no need to plan, do, or straighten things out.
Just be. With her in that moment. A pure moment of clarity. It felt exhilarating.
Watching her sleep from my seat on the balcony, warmth spreads through my stomach, remembering everything we did together.
We spent all night learning everything about each other, what we like, what we don’t, and fuck me, did she suck my cock like I was the best thing she’s ever tasted. She couldn’t get enough, getting herself off as she sucked me dry.
Her confidence is such a turn-on, and her knowing what she wants in the bedroom makes me want to do all those things over and over again to ruin her for anyone else until all she can think about is me.
My gut twists round and around, like a coiled pit of snakes at the unwelcome thought of her finding out about my just-right OCD and bolting at one hundred miles an hour out of my house.
I’m praying that doesn’t happen. She’s too special to lose.
Yesterday morning, she told me we could be perfectly flawed together, figuring things out as we went.
Her other words flood my memory. Unless you push me away, I’m not going anywhere, Eli. Good or bad… it doesn’t matter. We figure it out together.
I believe her, because she’s true to her word, but my brain needs to catch up with it all.
I’m going to make sure I don’t mess this up or push her away because after getting a taste of her last night, I’m even more addicted than I was before.
I drag my hand down my face. I know I can’t lose her, not now, not ever.
“What are you doing?” Sapphire’s groggy voice bursts my vulnerable thought-filled bubble.
“Thinking.”
“About?” She slowly walks toward me, wrapped in the comforter.
About how my heart would break if I lost you. “Things.”
I widen my knees to make room for her, patting my thigh and telling her to sit on my lap, driven by this desperate need inside to always be touching her.
Sapphire settles herself on my knee and snuggles into me, resting her head against my chest just as the sun begins to rise.
“This is beautiful.” She sighs blissfully, absorbed in the memory that we are making: one of many more to follow. I hope.
Nothing and no one can spoil it.
Pulling her close, I wrap my arm around what I think is her waist, as she looks like the marshmallow man, the comforter huge in comparison to her tiny frame.
I breathe in deeply, filling my nostrils with her shampoo that smells like berries, then kiss the top of her head that’s tucked under my chin.
Her hair glows as rays of light hit her shiny pastel pink and lavender wavy hair that’s slightly frizzy and tousled, giving her that just-fucked look, because she is—freshly fucked, that is.
“If I lived here, I would sit out here every morning,” she mumbles, half asleep.
“It’s what I do every day before I hit the gym,” I confess.
“Where do you go to the gym?”
“Here.”
“Here?” she questions, sounding confused.
“I have a home gym.”
“You go all out.”
She’s cute. “Says the woman who lives in Pacific Heights.” The houses on the street Sapphire lives on cost several million. She’s self-made and is making sure she experiences the benefits of her hard work.
I boldly ask a question I’ve been eager to ask: “Did you decide to work your butt off, choose suits and corporate clients, and buy a house in the nicest part of town just to annoy your mom and dad?” I believe she did.
After the third time we had sex, she told me all about her parents: their residence, how they sustain themselves off their land, and how they sleep on a converted British double-decker bus.
She also mentioned the number of animals they have, including four alpacas they recently acquired, which they plan to breed and sell fleece from because it’s hypoallergenic. They sound like quite the characters.
“Part of me did, yeah.” She gives a quiet laugh, her hand resting on my chest and playing with my chest hair. That motion alone could lull me to sleep.
“And the other part of you did it because…?” I allow her to fill in the blank space.
“All my life, my parents lived to reject the system: off-grid, anti-corporate, self-sufficient. I wanted the opposite. Stability. Predictability. A real career. Success not survival, so I targeted the biggest firms I could find, because those were the people I could actually make a difference for—the ones with five hundred people on payrolls and quarterly bonuses. They had the money to invest. But yeah… it also annoyed my parents. Maybe a small part of me did do it to piss them off.”
I admire her for going after what she wanted. “You’re a rebel.” As well as being strong-willed, strong-minded, and incredibly smart.
“A rebel with mommy and daddy issues.” Sapphire’s voice is less gravelly, as if she’s waking up, when she adds, “I hated watching them live hand to mouth, struggling to make ends meet, and eat ramen for dinner five days a week. I never wanted that to be my story for this one life I get to live. When I was ten, I would lie in bed at night, staring at the glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers Mom put up for me on the ceiling of our trailer and imagine myself on stage giving talks to hundreds of people. I do that now, sometimes four times a week.”
Sapphire made her dreams come true. “I bet your parents secretly admire how successful you are.”
“Oh, they do, and they’ll brag about me to their friends, but they’ll also say I’m squeezing the cents out of the big rich guys, like I’m balancing the world or something equally absurd.”
“They sound like fun.” I don’t mean it; my tone is flat and even.
“Debates with them are never fun.” She yawns, tired from being up half the night.
My father won a college scholarship and started his business with only a few thousand dollars. He taught my brothers and me that hard work pays off.