Chapter 20 Forever Her Dragon
Forever Her Dragon
Keaton | The Past
"Hey, son. Is everything okay?" my dad asks when he answers.
I sink into my chair, propping my feet on the table in the heart of our shop. "Yes. No." I let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, I don't fucking know."
"Talk to me."
"Charlie kissed Alek twice. And she's agreed to go on a date with him."
"How does that make you feel?" Dad questions.
"Angry. Sad. Hurt." I pause, sifting through the mess in my head. "Weirdly enough, I'm also happy."
"Happy?"
"Yeah. I don't know. It's hard to put into words. I'm glad she's trying to heal. Glad I didn't shatter her so badly she can't move forward, even if watching her do it guts me."
"That's big of you, son. It's also a good step in your healing process."
"It still fucking hurts, Dad. It's supposed to be me and her, ya know?"
"Yeah. It was supposed to be, Keaton, but it's not anymore. You accept that. You cheated on her. That was your choice. Now you have to let Charlie make hers while you focus on healing. If you don't heal yourself first, how do you plan on trying to heal what you broke between you two?"
We talk in low voices a while longer before hanging up. Restless energy still crackles in my veins, so I call Brock and Kayla, hoping they're up for the bar. Going alone tonight feels like a disaster waiting to happen.
"What's up, Keat?" Brock answers.
"You and Kayla have plans?"
"I planned on spending the rest of the night inside her, so whatever you need better be worth my giving up my woman's pussy for. What do you need?"
"The bar and a hell of a lot of alcohol."
"How bad do you need it?" he asks, groaning.
"Charlie texted. She kissed Alek and agreed to go on a date."
"Fuck," he says. "We'll meet you there in ten."
Brock and Kayla know every messy detail about me, Charlie, and Rianna. They don't condone what I did, but they see I'm trying to change. That's enough for them to stick around. I don't drink these days, so Brock knows if I'm craving it, things are seriously fucked.
Alcohol was never my demon, but I know it strips away my guardrails. It lets you do the things you only dare to imagine sober. Until Rianna is out of my orbit and I trust myself again, I won't risk drinking alone.
All I feel for Rianna now is a raw disgust, but I once swore I only saw her as a friend. That lie shattered the night I fucked her, skin to skin, against the pool house wall.
So I choose caution over regret.
Lionel has been helping me understand that there were so many times that day, or any day before it, when I could have put a stop to it.
We haven't gotten too deep yet because we're going hard in next month's session and opening my mind up to that day, but he's been touching the surface of my affair with Rianna.
There are so many things that I've found hard to admit, and he tells me it might be a while before we get to the why. He seems proud of my progress so far.
I'm grateful for his pride in me, even if it feels like my road to redemption stretches on forever.
With a heavy sigh, I push myself up and head to the office for a clean shirt, locking up behind me as I step into the night.
***
"You said you were going to drink," Brock growls. "All you've done is take one fucking shot and then have sat there staring at a damn water bottle. I passed up fucking my woman because you needed me."
I chuckle at his irritation. "Thanks, man. I thought I needed to drink, but maybe I just needed company. Go home to her."
"Fuck," he spits out a curse.
I glance over and see the color drain from his face as he stares across the crowded bar. I follow his gaze and spot him locked in a silent war with a stunning, smirking redhead.
A knot tightens in my gut as I turn back to him. His hand shakes when he lifts his whiskey, eyes fixed anywhere but on me.
"Brock. Man. Tell me you didn't."
He slams the glass down on the bar and still refuses to meet my eyes, but I can see the remorse all over his face because it's the same damn thing I see every time I look in the mirror.
"I've got to get home to Kayla and Ryder," he says, referring to his fiancée and two-year-old son.
"Man, talk to me. I've been there. I am there," I plead with my best friend.
Brock finally looks up, eyes glassy and brimming with pain, and my heart cracks for both him and Kayla.
He shakes his head and chokes out, "I can't. I'm sorry, bro, but I can't."
"Does Kayla know?" I ask.
His watery laugh is bitter as his eyes find the woman and then come back to me. "She will tonight. Seems my bad choice has finally caught up to me, too."
Before I can say a word, he's on his feet and out the door. I follow, partly to check on him, partly to make sure he leaves alone.
Is this how Amelia felt when she caught me cheating on Charlie?
This desperate anger and deep sadness?
When his taillights vanish, I head back in to settle our tab. There are things I need to do before sleep claims me. Words for Charlie, maybe a new letter, and definitely some fresh ink.
As I wait for the bartender, a hulking figure plants himself at my side.
David hesitates to take a seat, but then he mutters, "Fuck it." He glances at me once he's seated. "You look like shit."
I aim my middle finger at him. "Is he going to hurt her?"
He doesn't pretend to not know who I'm referring to.
"Does anyone ever set out to intentionally hurt someone?
" Both our thoughts must have landed on the same person, because his face screws up in disgust. "Scrap that.
He'd never do it purposefully. Alek isn't perfect, Keaton, but he's not a bad person.
She could choose worse to move on with. Will it go anywhere between them?
I don't fucking know, but I know Charlie deserves to at least try.
You fucked her up badly, man. Looking at you, I can tell she's not the only one you fucked up.
You know what you had and what you lost. I'm not going to continue to kick you while you're down, no matter how much you deserve it.
You're doing enough of that on your own.
But I'm also not going to let you get in the way of her at least trying to find something and someone outside of you.
You had her in your life for sixteen years, and six of those were in a committed, monogamous relationship.
Somewhere in there, you decided that monogamy with Charlie wasn't enough.
Rianna was easy, and deep down, you knew that, and you wanted to see what it was like outside of Charlie.
You were just too much of an asshole to leave your relationship before you did.
In doing so, you destroyed the one person who has always stood at your side, no matter what.
You were weak in the face of temptation, and she wasn't. Because I know you're not blind and you could see how many guys wanted what you had. "
"You're telling me shit I already know, David. But I promise I have no intention of coming between her and Alek. If she finds happiness with him, then that's all I want."
"Seems that awful girl is at it again," a voice says from somewhere around me.
I tune David out so I can listen because something tells me there's only one girl they're talking about.
"One wife caught her at Grinders. I heard that Trish Valencort tossed her coffee in that girl's face and called her a home-wrecking cunt. Hopefully, she wasn't wrong and that karma will get that girl before long. She's done enough damage in this town."
"You know it's not just her fault, Kerrie. She wouldn't have been able to seduce those guys if they weren't receptive to it."
Ouch.
The truth fucking hurts. It's nothing that Lionel or Charlie haven't said, but more outsiders saying it just increases my shame.
"It's going to follow you, man. There's a stigma on cheaters for a reason. People don't like them, and it's mostly for good reason. This is a burden you're going to have to carry, and it's one you're going to have to not end up resenting Charlie for."
I shoot him a sharp look. "Why the fuck would I do that?"
He shrugs. "Why the fuck did you do what you did? I don't know."
Touche, motherfucker. Touche.
When the bartender finally comes over, she flashes a flirty smile and leans in, inviting my eyes. But the truth is, I feel nothing. Not even a flicker of temptation, and for once, I'm proud of that.
"Just closing out my tab," I tell her.
She nods, looking a bit disappointed, but wasting no time turning back to business.
I sense David's eyes on me, weighing and judging. He sees I'm still coming up short, and he's not wrong.
Once I sign the credit card receipt, I check on David before I leave. "Are you good? Do you need a ride anywhere?"
"Where are you off to?"
"Gonna see a man about some ink." I hesitate. "Do you want to come?"
He stares at me intensely for a few seconds before lumbering to his feet. He tosses a twenty on the bar. "You know what? I think I do."
That's how I find myself walking out of the shop three hours later with a dragon tattoo on the lower left side of my abdomen, right next to my dick, and a tentative friendship with David Baladucci.
The dragon lies on its belly, face buried in its arms. One wing hangs broken, a single tear slipping from smoky gray eyes. Beside it, a human heart sits split down the middle.
"Forever her dragon?" David asks quietly.
I shrug. "Even if we never find our way back, I'm always hers, David. My heart, my soul, my body—they'll always belong to her. I made one reckless choice that tore her from my life. I won't do that again."
"What if she decides she can't forgive you? Are you going to stay alone?"
I glance at him and let my guard drop, letting him see it all. "Forever her dragon," I murmur.
David grumbles under his breath and runs a hand through his hair. "You make it hard to hate you."
"Feel free to continue if it's easier for her."
He sighs. "You know she wouldn't want that."
"Yeah,” I reply sadly.
We drive the rest of the way in silence, both of us lost for words.
I know he's resented me for a year because of Rianna, and the tension between us is thick.
He's Charlie and Amelia's friend, not mine, and being seen with me only complicates things for him.
But this mess is mine to clean up, and I have to face it head-on.
Before I can leave, he leans in, forearms on the window, and looks at me.
"Keaton, you're not a bad guy. You just made a bad call.
I think you've learned, and I believe you regret it.
But I'm not the one you need to prove it to.
There's a lot of work ahead if you want to fix what you broke.
" He smirks. "And for the record, this doesn't make us friends.
But if you ever want a beer or more ink, I might just say yes. "
For the first time in months, a small spark of hope stirs inside me.
It's barely there, but it exists.
I can choose to nurture it or let it die.
One path might lead to redemption, while the other will bury me in ruin.
My fingers itch with the urge to reach out to Charlie, the only way I know how. There's so much I need to say to her, so I choose to nurture that hope.
I choose hope.
I choose redemption.
I fucking choose Charlie.