Chapter 23 – ANNA
23
ANNA
“ I s this a jellyfish?” I asked.
Carter and I lay in bed, both still naked, while I examined his black ink tattoos. I propped up on an elbow to see where the tentacles wrapped around his forearm, dangling down his wrist on the left arm.
“Yes.”
“Why a jellyfish?”
“You don’t remember?”
I pressed my lips tight. I couldn’t believe I actually thought he was going to die if I didn’t pee on the sting. The worst part was that he actually let me do it.
When I went home that night and googled it, I was absolutely mortified.
“Don’t tell me that’s why you got this?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “It reminded me of you.”
Oh my god. Of me peeing on him.
I gave him a shove, but I was already looking at all the other tattoos, studying each one more closely than I ever had the opportunity to before.
On one arm there was a lion. The jellyfish. Shattered diamonds and a skull. A geometric pattern holding it all together.
On the other was a great ship with powerful sails pushing into a storm at sea. Waves crashed and the moon and stars glittered in between the angry clouds above.
I remembered the lyrics to a song I hadn’t allowed myself to listen to in six years.
I remembered telling Carter I wished I was strong enough to smash every diamond my father ever made me wear.
No. No way. He wouldn’t get tattoos for all those silly, meaningless things.
I stopped tracing the ink, a weight settling in my gut as I met his intent stare.
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. The ability we once had to communicate so much without saying a word was already coming back, and I could see the truth there in his eyes.
They’re all for you.
I swallowed hard.
You’re imagining things, Anna. Snap out of it.
Why would he do that after…
In my post-sex haze, with the phantom feel of him still in my most intimate places, I want to relive that. I pointed to another tattoo on his wrist.
“Brandy? I thought you were more of a whiskey man.”
It was a trap. I had a feeling it was a woman’s name, and I wanted him to admit it. It would make walking out of this dreamland and back to my cage a hell of a lot easier.
“It was my mother’s name,” he said quietly, and I felt like an idiot for forgetting. “I got that after she died.”
His expression shifted from blissful to a perfect neutral, like he was donning a mask.
I clasped his hand in mine. “When was that, exactly? How long after I…after I left?”
“Right before I turned 22. The treatment really worked for a while. We thought she was better. It looked like she was headed for remission and then…she wasn’t.”
Carter’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, purposefully staring away from me. I couldn’t imagine how huge the loss was for him. I knew his father was a piece of shit, but from what I knew, his mother was the calm in the storm. He used to say he never understood how someone as good natured and pure hearted as his mom could wind up with someone as vile as his father.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
He took a long, deep breath. “Tell me something else,” he said, changing the subject. “Something about your life while you were gone.”
I bit my lip. I knew Carter always doubted my cover story about charity work building houses, but I hadn’t come out and told him the truth myself, though I suspected he already knew. I wasn’t ashamed of it anymore; it was good, honest work. It was where I met anyone who gave a damn about me in St. Louis.
“I didn’t go to Malawi,” I said. “I went to St. Louis. I was a cocktail waitress at this member’s only club?—”
“—The Butterfly Room.”
“Of course. You already know everything.”
“Not everything. Did you like working there?”
I thought about it. “No. But I liked the girls I worked with, and the tips were really good.”
He drew circles on my shoulder, and I remembered how easy it was to just be with him in the silence. Now, with the shutters raised, I could hear the ocean clearly through the window and it reminded me how much I missed this.
Ask him.
You need to ask him.
“Can I ask you something?”
Why? It was what I wanted to know, but the one question I still couldn’t seem to make myself ask. Why did you break my heart, Carter?
“Shoot.”
I opened my mouth, but chickened out at the last second like a total fucking coward. “What did you mean before?” I asked instead. “About it being good that I forgot to take my birth control pill?”
“I meant exactly what I said,” he replied roughly. “I want to be tied to you in every way humanly possible. Putting a baby in your belly is a step in the right direction.”
I was too stunned to speak, let alone meet his intense stare. I fingered the duvet, trying to ignore his eyes on me.
“Carter, you don’t even want kids.”
“I didn’t. For years, I was so sure I never would. But then you came back, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve never been more certain about anything, Anna.”
“And what if I don’t share this certainty?”
“You will.”
My brows rose and I finally looked at him. He seemed so sure. So secure in that sureness.
“Marry me.”
I choked, blinking, coughing as saliva went down the wrong hole, and I threw myself up into a seated position, trying to get air back into my lungs.
“I’m sorry, what? ” I blurted between fits of coughing.
Carter didn’t miss a beat. “Marry me.”
“Oh my god, you’re serious.”
He nodded gravely, a knot forming between his brows at my expression. Carter Cole never liked being laughed at and that’s exactly what my eyes were doing right now. They were laughing at him.
Soon enough, my mouth followed.
“Anna,” he warned.
I held my hand out, waving it in a placating gesture as I struggled to get control of myself. “No, it’s just—did you actually just propose?”
“Would you like to see the ring?”
“ You have a ring? ”
“I’ve had it since the day after I found out you were back.”
No lies detected. “That’s a little presumptuous, even for you.”
“Is it?”
A frustrated sigh fell from my lips. “You’re psychotic, you know that?”
His lips pulled up in a half smirk.
For just a second I let myself imagine it. Giving Carter those last firsts.
Marriage.
A child.
I couldn’t ignore how right it felt, even as nothing more than a wild imagining.
I let my eyes fall shut.
Carter brushed his thumb across my cheekbone. “Can you accept that? All of me? Even the parts that are a little less refined than you thought?”
Less refined? Those parts weren’t just less refined, they were sharp as broken glass.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “What if there’s more? What else don’t I know, Carter?”
He took my hand. “Let me show you.”
I let him lead me down the hallway to another room. It was another bedroom, with sage green walls and a huge bed covered in luxurious bedding. Crystal vases holding elegant, dried bouquets sat on every surface.
Yet another room that didn’t look at all like it’d been designed for Carter.
“I had this prepared when you came back to town.”
“And what is this?”
He guided me to a large walk-in closet and lights automatically flicked on. It was overflowing with brand new clothing. In clear drawers, there were heaps of lacy underwear and bras in a rainbow of colors. I checked the tag of the nearest summer dress and gawked at him.
“It’s my size.”
“It’s all your size, Anna. The personal shoppers at Bloomingdale’s still had everything on file. When they realized how much money I planned to spend, they were happy to give me the details.”
I quickly opened the other drawers. There were soft cotton pajamas and sets of workout clothes waiting. I opened a panel in the wall and there were rows upon rows of shoes, and another wall of purses.
To my surprise, everything wasn’t just my size, but looked like it was my taste, too.
I would have picked out any of the sundresses on display.
“You really expected me to wear this?” I gave Carter a pointed look.
“No. I didn’t expect you to wear any of it. I just wanted you to have the option. Well, options to wear whatever you liked best. And in the spirit of being possessive and fucked up, it gives me some kind of…twisted satisfaction…to be the one who clothes you and feeds you. Who gives you what you need.”
My chest tightened. The way he talked about it was almost sweet. In a totally weird fucking way.
“Come on,” he said, snatching a satin robe from a hanger to help me into it. “There’s more.”
He brought me to the next room—a home office. I quickly noted the big, sturdy desk and windows with ocean views. But once I noticed the photo leaning against the wall, everything else ceased to exist.
I took that photo of our beach. Years ago, I gave it to Carter. I expected that by now it was in a landfill somewhere, not hanging in a place of honor on his wall. I walked close to it, looking at it in wonder. There was something haunting about the moon and clouds in black and white, making the scene both peaceful and eerie. Like something bigger lurked just beyond the frame.
“I had it delivered from my downtown office yesterday. I didn’t think I’d be able to make it in for a while, and I can’t go long without seeing it.”
“You kept it. All this time, you kept it.”
“This is as big as I could get it without it getting grainy,” he said, taking a couple of steps toward me, looking down at the shot.
“But why did you bother having it developed?”
“Because you gave it to me.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, trying to make sense of the feelings swirling inside me. There were too many. Surprise. Confusion. Pain. Grief. Worst of all…there was hope.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see this one again.”
“I kept the negative.”
I couldn’t hide my elation at the admission. This was my favorite shot. The best picture I’d ever taken up until that point. And I loved it so much that I wanted him to have it. I mourned the loss of it as soon as I was finished mourning Carter himself.
“Really?”
He nodded. “I keep it in the safe. It’s yours if you want it back.”
I did, I realized, but I wouldn’t take it. It felt wrong somehow to even ask. It was a gift. It belonged to him.
Carter stroked my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“No. Just… it doesn’t make sense. Why keep it? Why have it developed and blown up and put it somewhere you can see it every day after…”
After you shattered my heart.
I still didn’t get it. How could Carter have let me go if he still cared about me? If he was this obsessive, and apparently had a crazy PI who could find anyone, how come he never found me? How much of what he said was even real?
Carter’s brow furrowed. He took my face in his hands, gazing down at me.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded. “I need to know.”
I swallowed. “I just…did you really love me then, Carter? Or was I just some trophy, to prove that you could have anything that the rich assholes in this town did?”
“I loved you,” he said fiercely, never breaking eye contact. “I never stopped.”
I didn’t see any hint of a lie in his eyes and there it was, dangling there for me. The worm wriggling on the end of a hook that would spear me if I wasn’t careful.
I wanted so badly to believe him.
“I haven’t let a woman in here since I moved in. I haven’t had a girlfriend. Never dated. Never even wanted to. I was waiting for you, Anna. And then you come back and you could barely stand to be in the same room as me. I know I fucked up but I can’t fucking fake this.”
His arm tightened around me, the swell of his cock even harder. My mouth was too dry to speak. My lips parted but the snappy comeback didn’t come.
I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him. His body surged into life, hooking a hand under my backside and sweeping me up into his body. He placed me on the couch, covering my body with his. His lips were hungry. He claimed my mouth, my tongue, my breath.
“Wait,” he said, pulling away. “There’s one more thing you need to see.”
The last room on his tour of rooms masquerading as hammers meant to break down my walls was downstairs, tucked away behind the kitchen.
I wouldn’t have even noticed the door if Carter hadn’t brought me to it. He flicked on one of two light switches, bathing the room in a red glow, and I gasped.
It was a darkroom, fully stocked with sinks, enlargers, neatly labeled chemicals. Everything I would need to develop film. I knew, without him telling me, that the room had been built for me alone.
“How long has this been here?” I asked.
“Since I moved in. I had the architect put it into the designs.”
“How did you know I’d ever come back to use it? What if I’d given up photography, found something else to do?”
Carter shook his head. “I knew you’d never give it up. You loved photography too much. And if you never came back…” He took a long breath. “Actually, I never really counted that as an option.”
My heart pounded in my chest.
“I’m not going to change, Anna. I’m possessive, controlling, fucked up. But I’m also devoted to making you happy.” His eyes searched mine. “You just need to decide if that’s enough for you.”