Chapter 9 #2
His blue eyes are troubled. It could be from talking about us, but I suspect I’ve also hit a nerve and the real motive behind him wanting the Persian Gulf well.
‘The board of directors went with it, despite my age, because they knew he would be behind me, in my ear for every big decision. Except for Ted, they’re still my father’s board, not mine. ’
‘Is that why you want the well? To do something that’s yours?’
He smiles softly. ‘You see me. You always did. You saw through all my bullshit like nobody else could.’
‘Maybe there’s something under all that bullshit you don’t realise is there.’
‘Only you would try to see something good in me after everything. You’re the only person who’s ever had faith in me.
What a mess I made.’ He shakes his head and swirls what’s left of his drink in his mug.
‘When I got made CEO, my father said things had to change. I had to settle down, start behaving like a man, forget what dreams I had and do what was right by the family name. That night, at the dinner eighteen months ago, when we slept together, I was already set to take Connie out the next day. She was apparently what I needed. Our families have known each other for years. Jay, you remember him? He’s one of…
was one of my best friends. He’s also Connie’s brother.
’ Clark pulls his hand away from my hair and takes a gulp of hot chocolate.
‘I’m not trying to twist things. I did want to take her out, but that was before…
Connie, you know, she’s a good woman. A man would be lucky to have her. ’
‘But not you?’
‘At the dinner, you were upset. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I mean, I wanted to, God did I want to, but I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.’
‘You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask you to.’
‘I knew I’d walk away, Dayna, and I still slept with you.
The thing is, I can’t resist you. That night was the beginning and the end of Connie and me.
It was always a relationship that I’d settled for.
I did what was expected of me and asked the woman who was right in so many ways, all ways but one, to be my wife. ’
‘What was the one?’
‘I loved her. I do love her. But I wasn’t in love with her.’
I finish my hot chocolate and hold my still-warm cup against my chest while I process everything he’s told me, wondering whether that statement can really be true.
Can you love a person enough to want to marry them and not be in love with them?
I feel him watching me, waiting for a response.
He eventually puts his cup on the floor, breaking the palpable tension between us.
‘I guess your folks are pretty pissed,’ is what I choose to say, of all the things I could say.
He laughs, hard. ‘I’m not exactly flavour of the month with most people I know.’
When I’m done laughing at the sorry state of affairs, I put my own mug on the floor and prop myself up on my elbow, resting my cheek on my fist. ‘Thank you. For telling me, being honest. I think I’ve waited a long time to hear it.’
He shuffles his position to mirror mine. ‘Don’t thank me for something I should have had the backbone to do years ago.’ He reaches out to take my hand, and his fingers lock into mine.
‘My head and my heart are having a battle of wills,’ I tell him.
He takes his hand back. ‘Tell me about Little Princess. If you want to. I know that I have no right to ask, but I wasn’t there for you back then. If you’d like to tell me, I’d like to listen now.’
I bite my lip, unsure whether I want to open that box, but I close my eyes and tell him everything, from getting off the helicopter to the conversation with my father about him. From the first rumbling of pressure to jumping from the blazing rig.
‘Eleven people died that night. Ten men, one woman. Their husbands and wives, their children, waved them off to work and never saw them again. Millions of gallons of oil spilled, wildlife killed, shorelines ruined. The company was on the hook for millions, which meant inevitable redundancies, and more lives and families ruined.’ My eyes are frosted with tears.
I fight to keep them from falling. ‘My dad set everything in motion to minimise the damage: clean-up, safety measures. He settled claims as quickly as he could to help the families that suffered. But it wasn’t enough for him.
He only saw the ruin he’d caused.’ I sigh.
‘I don’t need to tell you his name was like mud in the industry.
SP was on its knees. I was worried about him, so I left Rachel and moved back in with him.
I’d been moving my things all weekend. I met up with Rachel for lunch, something nice after a manic couple of days. If I’d just stayed with him…’
I can’t hold the tear that slips from the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
‘When I came home from lunch, the house was so quiet, it was strange. I think on some level, I knew it was off. Dad’s keys were on the kitchen bench so I knew he was home.
I kept shouting for him, hoping he’d call out, but he didn’t.
I checked his office and it was empty. I think I decided to take a bath, but I don’t know if it was something else that drew me to the bathroom. ’
More tears fall.
‘The door wouldn’t open. There was something stopping it. I started to panic, and I slid through the gap.’ I hold my throat as it starts to tighten. ‘He was there, hanging from the shower rail.’
I look at Clark. His red, clouded eyes make my heart ache even more.
‘I tried to take him down but I couldn’t. I held up his weight for as long as I could, but he was already gone. He killed himself for the pain he caused everyone else, and he didn’t think about how much he’d break my heart. Part of me hates him for it, and that… that hurts me more than anything.’
‘God, Dayna.’ Clark wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. There in his safe arms, my cheek against his chest, I let go. He kisses my scalp and strokes my hair until I’m ready to sit back.
‘I loved working with my dad. It made everything so special to me, but now, the industry isn’t the same without him. I’m not even convinced I’d still be in it if I wasn’t trying to put right his legacy.’
I go in search of tissues and come back to the sofa. Clark hasn’t moved at all.
‘You should be my therapist,’ I tell him with a sad, short laugh. ‘It cost me a lot of time and money to get to this stage with her.’
‘You’re an amazing woman. Do you know that? You’re strong and smart.’ He tucks my hair behind my ear. ‘Beautiful.’ I watch his lips move and lick my own. ‘If I could turn back time?—’
I dart forwards and press my mouth to his. He kisses me back, brusquely at first, then he grabs my wrists and holds me back from him. ‘Don’t do this because you’re upset, Dayna.’
‘That’s not the reason.’ My words are a leaden whisper. ‘I just want to be with you.’
I know I could wake up tomorrow and he’ll be gone. I know, therefore it’s my decision, my risk. I’m in control.
He kisses me so passionately my world spins, thoughts and feelings gone, replaced by only the awareness of his lips on mine.
He lifts me, shifting me quickly and easily across his lap, my knees either side of his thighs.
With my legs wide, my labia parted, a small movement that generates an urgent need in my sex.
I remember how he feels, how we feel together, and I want it back.
Or do I?
I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think about waking alone tomorrow, or about his almost-wife.
Whom he left less than a week ago.
‘Stop. Stop. We can’t. I can’t.’
We’re both panting as I sit back, a shift that rolls my pelvis against his stiff crotch. The bulge of his jeans is coarse even through my thong, deliciously so.
Jesus, I want him.
‘Why is it the most fucking sexy women are the most goddamned smart?’ Clark grates, dropping his head back and staring at the ceiling. The muscles of his neck are pulled taut and he looks… desperate. Desperate for me.
It’s one night.
I lunge at him, pressing my mouth to his. His hands move to my hair, fisting in the long locks at my nape.
It’s so wrong it feels right. Or maybe it’s so right it feels right. Whichever, I give myself over to him. In my kiss, I show him how I want to be taken. How he can take me. The kind of hot sex no other man has come close to giving me.
‘Clark.’ His name leaves me on a groan, straight into his mouth. He lifts my hips, pulling me further onto his crotch.
I grind against him, swirling my tongue around his in the same rhythm.
A low, animalistic growl comes from him as he hoists me up.
I grip his hips with my legs as he stands, his hands squeezing my arse cheeks, my hands holding his face as I stare into his magnetic silver-blue irises.
My chest swells and my stomach does somersaults as he carries me to his room.
I’m crazy. It’s official. I don’t just need a therapist, I need pills, lots of pills. Or maybe even electroconvulsive therapy. Yep, that should do it.
He kicks the door shut behind us and presses me back against it, lowering my legs to the floor.
I’m not in control at all; I’m completely out of control.
He’s bad for me, but I can’t resist him.
I can feel my eyes widen and fear set in.
Even with the lights dimmed low, I can tell by his face that it registers with him.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I’m not expecting him to stroke my temple and gently take hold of my cheeks. I’m not prepared for the tender look in his eyes. A look I know is reflected in my own. A look that slows my pounding heart.
‘Stop overthinking, baby,’ he whispers. And it’s just like him, the old Clark, the Clark I’m in love with. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I swear I’ll never hurt you again.’
‘You’re making it extremely difficult for me to walk away.’ My words are hoarse and betray the torture I feel inside, the complete contradiction of emotions.