Chapter 36
Maria
T he sound of my phone pierced the quiet in my car, momentarily startling me. I always had music blasting when I drove, but tonight, an anxious and nervous knot had curled around my stomach. I needed a little peace and quiet in order to unravel the tension—or a moment where I could silently freak out.
"Hey, Lins." I indicated left before turning. I was getting close. That knot tightened.
"Are you driving?" Her voice sounded loud in the confines of my car.
"Yeah, I have you on speaker. I'm on my way to his now."
"Are you gonna ask him?"
My hand tightened on the wheel as my stomach churned away. I indicated one more time to turn down his street, but I pulled over a few doors down before I reached his house.
Tonight was a big night for us. Brian and I had been dating for a few weeks, but I was pleasantly surprised when he invited me to his house for dinner. I wasn't sure if I could fit in a dinner or even a lunch with him before New York; but that was before he asked if I would come to his home. When I heard that small nervous break in his voice, I decided anything else could be pushed back and saved for another day.
I couldn't help the thrill that zinged through me. I could count on one hand the amount of men who’d invited me back to theirs. I allowed myself to bask in the excitement and hope. That is until Linda called me up a few hours later and revealed something that made me want to throw up. I wanted to give Brian the benefit of the doubt, which was why I forced down my natural instinct to raise hell and take names later.
"Yeah."
She clucked down the phone. "It could be nothing."
It could be, but knowing my luck, it was precisely as I—and no doubt, Linda—had feared. I racked my brain trying to come up with an acceptable reason, but all my outcomes resulted in the worst-case scenario. Still, I planned on arriving with an open mind.
"That's what I intend to find out." I glanced out the window at the pretty trees lining the street. "How are you anyway?"
Linda was currently off for two weeks while she underwent IVF, but would be back in time for our New York trip. They had collected her eggs but, disappointingly, could only retrieve one. She had a few that were mature but was told they were in the lining of her endometritis. I didn't understand half of what she told me, considering I'd wanted to make myself sterile when I was twenty-one, but I'd read up on her condition, and I couldn't understand how Linda didn't just crawl into bed and never leave. It sounded painful and debilitating.
It had taken several visits to her doctor for her to be taken seriously as her "issues" were always waved off as bad period pains. You didn't need a doctor's degree to know that periods should not be painful. By the time her endo was discovered, the scar tissue was overwhelmingly bad. Her left tube was blocked and had to be tied off. Hence, she had difficulty falling pregnant.
She was now waiting to find out if this latest round of IVF worked. I wasn't religious but I did stop at the local Catholic church to light a candle. Considering I was a pretty big heathen, it probably had the opposite effect.
"Sore. I can't lift anything too heavy, so I've just been chilling out on the couch and drinking lots of water."
"Well, I have all my fingers and toes crossed for you."
"Thanks, girl. Anyway, try to enjoy your date. Don't jump to conclusions, and more importantly, call me straight after."
My laugh puffed out, despite my churning emotions. "I will."
I took a cleansing breath before rolling the short distance to Brian's house. It was a cute, two-story home with a front covered porch and open railings. There were white column beams, overhead gables, and a large front window. A driveway led up to a two-door garage. This was the home Brian had moved into with his wife; one they’d decorated and discussed their future dreams in. He'd told me he'd never invited a date here before. I'd like to think he was being truthful.
The white door with a gold-plated knocker opened, and Brian stood there with a wide, welcoming smile. "Hi. Come on in."
I reached out and clasped his outstretched hand as he helped me up the stairs. It was an unnecessary gesture, but it made me feel feminine and adored. As I came to his level, I got a hit of that spicy, warm scent he favored. It didn't help that he looked delicious; dressed casually in a dark blue t-shirt, black jeans, and bare feet. God, even his feet looked sexy.
"Thank you for inviting me."
He hurriedly took my jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. I wondered if his wife procured that. It didn't seem like something a single man thought to add to his home.
As I followed Brian through his house, my eyes couldn't help but fall on the details of his home. Personal touches that made a house a home.
There were a few hints scattered around that a woman used to live here—the painting of a colorful vase hanging in the hallway being one of them—but I was surprised to note that the rest of the house appeared simple and gender-neutral. I didn't know what I expected to walk into, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that the thought of a shrine with her photos and wedding dress had crossed my mind. I even had a wacky dream where his walls had her pictures lining them, and she followed me with her eyes, judging me. As quickly as I thought it, I felt terrible. This was all new territory for me. I, of course, didn't mind if Brian had a few photos of her up. I even expected it.
"I'm not much of a cook, but I had to learn something more than ramen noodles once –" He stopped, his eyes shifting to mine in apology.
"Brian, you don't need to censor yourself around me. I know you had a whole life with someone else. Plus," I shrugged. "I can't cook, either. That's why Spice Club loves me so much," I joked, referring to the local Asian takeout.
He tipped his head back and laughed. "We can both be terrible cooks together."
I gave him a half smile, rubbing my elbow as I glanced around the kitchen. It was simple and tidy, and a delicious smell came from one of the covered pots. He already had plates and cutlery out.
"Come into the living room. Can I get you a drink?"
I stayed where I was, knowing I needed to get this over with before he started dishing out our dinner. After all, I might not be staying. "Before we get started. There's something I wanted to ask you."
A slight panic flashed across his face. He rubbed his hands together. "Yeah, of course. What is it?"
My eyes avoided his. "Linda lives just down the road from you. At the end of the next street, actually."
He frowned. "Okay."
"She drives through your street to get to her house. A couple of days ago, she saw you outside with some blonde girl. She pulled over to watch because she's a nosey bitch." A realization came over his face, but I pushed on. "She said you two looked cozy before disappearing inside your house.
Brian's face softened and a loose breath had his chest expanding. "Maria –"
"This is hard for me because the old me would've done something bitchy and manipulative to bring your attention back to me. I would never have confronted you, but I would've let the insecurity stay inside of me until I ultimately did something fucked up." I took a deep breath. "But I'm learning to speak openly and honestly about my feelings. I want to give you a chance to explain before jumping to conclusions." Even though a thousand painful scenarios had already played through my mind.
Brian shuffled forward and took my hand. He lifted it to his lips before pressing a soft kiss against the back of it. Tingles zapped up my arm at the feather-light touch. His eyes were sincere as they continued to gaze at me with a care that had my heart racing.
"That was Sarah. She's my sister-in-law. Hannah's sister."
I almost sagged in relief before I pulled my hand from his. Of course. God, why hadn't I considered that? He looked relieved and didn't look at all put off by my insinuation.
"I actually hadn't seen her in a while, so we were a little emotional with our hugging. We-we had a little falling out." A shadow crossed his face.
"You did?" I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm being nosey."
"No. No, I want to tell you," he insisted. "Let me just check the mince. I hope tacos are okay."
He peered into the pot before stirring a few times. He brought out his phone, and I hid a smile when I spied a picture of tacos. It was cute that he was double-checking the recipe. He placed the lid back on the pot and turned a few knobs. "I'm just gonna let it simmer for a while. C'mon."
He guided me to the living area and indicated to the couch. His hand remained in mine, holding tightly. "She's been struggling a lot. It's understandable, of course, losing your dad and then your sister. We leaned on each other, both understanding the other's pain." He took a shuddering breath. "But lately, I've realized that our relationship has been a little too codependent. It's like we fed off each other's grief, making it worse."
He paused, and I squeezed his hand to let him know I was hearing him. "Lately, I've been trying to find my own life outside my in-laws. When I told them that I was interested in dating again—with you in mind—my mom-in-law, Diane, she took it really well."
He shook his head, and his sigh brushed my cheek. "But Sarah didn't. She still doesn't like it. I thought we could talk and clear the air when she came over that day. But she did something, in my opinion, a little underhanded. Words were exchanged, and she left pissed. I was pissed."
I leaned forward. "What happened?"
His mouth twisted before he scrubbed a hand down his face. "She gave me a letter that Hannah wrote me while she was sick."
I reared back. "Was she supposed to give it to you?"
"She claims that Hannah told her to give it to me when she felt I was ready. But the letter, although I am super grateful to read it, didn't give me any indication that it was kept from me for so long for a particular reason."
He rolled his hand as he continued. "She talked about our first memories together and how she was at peace because her dad would be waiting on the other side." His mouth was set in a sad smile, and a shimmer of emotion flashed in his eyes.
I moved closer, feeling an inexplicable need to offer comfort. "It was beautiful to read. Definitely had me feeling some heavy emotions. But I just don't understand why it wasn't given to me sooner."
He gave me an apologetic look, mistaking my silence for uneasiness. "I'm sorry my life sounds a little complicated. I promise it isn't always like this. I just wish I'd sought help sooner."
I shook my head and patted his thigh. I immediately removed my hand when his hard muscles moved under my palm. Instead, I reached over and twined our hands together. "I'm sorry you're having a hard time with your family. I hope there was a genuinely good reason for her to keep that from you." I stared down at our hands. Mine so small; his big, yet we fit perfectly.
"As for seeking help, you have to decide for yourself when you're ready. I should have sought help sooner, so I know how you feel. But it's never too late to improve yourself."
He tilted his head, and I interpreted his silent question. He'd shared so much with me. Things I knew were painful and super personal. That, of course, didn't mean he was entitled to receive the same response from me. But staring into the same whiskey eyes that had melted that frosty exterior the first time he asked to share my table, I knew I couldn't imagine not reciprocating.
"Can we eat and talk?" Relief lit his eyes, and he gently pulled me up.
I watched from the kitchen table as he warmed up the taco shells before setting the mince— which smelled delicious—cheese, sour cream, and guacamole. I wanted to help, but he refused, so I sat there with my hands folded, mooning over him while he moved around his kitchen.
He eyed me as I scooped my toppings with vigor before I took a large, satisfying bite. I'd been so worried about who that blonde woman was that I hadn't eaten much all day.
"This is delicious," I complimented before scooping another shell. He smiled at me as he chewed, but there was still an anticipatory question in his eyes. I was procrastinating, but I hadn't spoken to anyone about this except Dr. Anna. The only one who knew a little of what my life was like had been Lissa. But we weren't friends until 8th grade, so she hadn't seen the worst of what I had been through. A lot of the shit that happened to me later on, I hid from her.
"I didn't have the best childhood," I started, staring down at my third taco. "When I was seven, my dad left us. Mom told me he left us for a new family; other times, she said he died, and other times that he just didn't want to be a dad anymore."
Brian's brow furrowed at my words. "Shit."
"I have very vivid memories of him leaving. I remember the feel of his hand as he ruffled my hair, and I remember my mom cussing him out before she started sobbing." I picked at the edge of a taco shell as I allowed memories I hadn't revisited since my sessions invade me. "Trouble is, all my memories of my mom and dad together were happy. I was happy. But now I wonder whether I'd just created false memories of it all."
He placed his food down and reached out to grasp my hand. I felt bad that I was ruining our appetite. But once I started, I couldn't stop. "My mom had terrible relationships with men. Once Dad left, it was like she tumbled into bed with new guys nearly every month. Sometimes, they moved in with us, and sometimes, they hung around for a few days before leaving."
I took a deep breath, dropping my gaze from his. "There was a lot of abuse. Emotional and physical."
"From these men?" His voice was tight.
"Sometimes. But mainly from my mom. She turned into a drugged-up drunk." That was putting it nicely.
His hand tightened and loosened on mine. "Wa-was there ever any sexual abuse?"
"Some of the men did try to touch me." Brian closed his eyes. When he opened them, their mahogany depths swirled with a tortured emotion.
I shrugged a slim shoulder, wanting to lessen my experience to alleviate the pity I knew he felt. "There was a caress on the leg that made me uncomfortable or a hug that lingered more than was necessary. I ended up having to lock my room." I saw that handle turn way too many times.
"Her relationships with men and her inability to parent bled into my personal relationships. I formed sexual relationships that weren't healthy because I was seeking a safe place to belong. I tried to find validation in the relationships I formed with men. I was determined not to turn out like my mom, but ironically, I did just that."
"You dated men who treated you like shit." It wasn't a question. He knew what I meant, the same way I knew just by looking at him that he'd already slotted himself into that category.
I grasped his hand tighter and placed my other on top of his, soothing any anguish he might be feeling. I didn't want to go into further details about my life and comb through every bad decision I'd made with men. Because, honestly, we'd be here all night. But confiding with Brian that small tidbit of myself didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable. It felt right. Being here with him felt right.
"Thank you for sharing that part of your life. I knew something horrible must've happened in your childhood. I understand why you never wanted to talk about your parents or your life as a kid. I can't imagine what you had to go through."
My face heated as he brought my hand up to place a soft kiss. "I know I fucked up multiple times, but I want you to know that I'm all in with you," he stressed. "I'm not seeing any other woman; I'm not interested in seeing any other woman but you. The women I previously hooked up with I either met on a dating app or at a bar. I deleted my profile on that app after meeting you." He held my gaze. "After I met you at the cafe."
My breath hitched at his words, and I felt my cheeks heat.
"I'm one hundred percent in with you, and I hope you are, too. Or eventually will be," he added dryly.
I hid a small smile as a bloom of warmth spread across my chest. I nodded slowly. "I'm not interested in seeing anyone else, either. I want to keep exploring this as long as you're always honest with me and we keep communication open."
Another squeeze to my hand. "Absolutely. I agree."
The residual knot in my chest unraveled completely at his words. This was what it felt like to be in an honest and healthy relationship. We were open and vulnerable, setting boundaries and being receptive to the other's faults. We were patient as we both navigated our personalities and triggers. He and I were on the same page, and I felt a big chunk of my wall crumble.
After that, the heaviness between us lifted, and our conversation flowed freely. We moved away from serious topics, instead focusing on getting to know each other better. We polished off the tacos and moved back to his couch, where he put on a movie.
We pretended to watch it, but the heat between us became too much to ignore. His thigh had brushed against mine multiple times—not always by accident—and our hands would brush together and linger as we shared a bowl of caramel popcorn. Being so close to him fueled the flames of desire that had been burning low in my groin.
Before I knew it, I was laid back on his couch with his body covering mine. Our lips were fused as my hands ran through the thick strands of his hair. I had no idea who'd made the first move, but it didn't matter. Not when our tongues were tangling and our breaths mingled in shared passion. He pried his lips from mine and placed them against the wild, beating pulse of my neck.
"Fuck, Maria. You're so beautiful." His tongue licked my throat, tasting my skin. His groan vibrated through me, soaking my panties. I closed my eyes as I gave in to the feel of his soft lips against me. It had been so long since someone had just…kissed me. Savored me. There were times when men refused even to kiss me, claiming it was too intimate. Yet they had no problem sticking their dick in my ass.
I already had a taste of his kiss after our lunch date at Roman's. It had been passionate and unrestrained—a precursor for a more carnal act that I’d been tempted to give into. I'd driven home unsatisfied yet thoroughly sated from that one kiss.
And, unfortunately, I was also going to go unsatisfied tonight.
When Brian's hard cock came up between my legs, brushing and rubbing against my pussy, I immediately knew it was time to call a halt. How easy would it be to keep rubbing until he pulled the material of my panties aside and took what I would freely give him? So easy.
I pushed gently against his chest. There was no hesitation as he pulled back at my signal, his breathing still harsh. Another way he was different from other men. Usually, it would take a few hard pushes until they reluctantly pulled away, only to sulk and plead until I gave in.
Brian helped me up before smoothing his ruffled hair and fixing me with a rueful smile. I cupped his cheek, letting him know I was okay and not offended by our burst of passion. I didn't want to be treated like a frightened virgin, but I also didn't want to set a standard. Just because we agreed to be exclusive didn't mean I had to jump into bed with him straightaway, no matter how tempting. I had men promise me the world for the chance between my thighs. It wasn't that I didn't trust him; I didn't know him fully to make that call. Trust in a relationship had to be earned—from both parties.
Brian kept his arm around my shoulder as he walked me to my car. With a soft kiss on my forehead, he opened my door and saw me safely inside. I rolled my eyes playfully when he reminded me to drive carefully. He didn't like that I was driving so late at night, even though I could drive home in ten minutes and not pass one car.
With one last wave, I drove off. This time, I had my music on full blast.