Chapter 3
LOCK-UP: TIRES STOP ROTATING UNDER brAKING
Idon’t watch to make certain he leaves. I can’t. If I do, the careful facade of indifference I’ve been portraying will fracture. I’ll need Leo to stay, to answer the questions I had not asked. Not to mention the ones forming in my mind.
Why? Why was he so cruel?
I can’t believe he said those awful words. Meant them.
A lone tear slips down from the corner of my eye, which I brush away impatiently. To avoid a complete breakdown, I fly up the stairs, heading to the expansive master suite. I may be able to resist chasing after him, but my retreat is no longer the peaceful sanctuary it once was.
Before Leo took over a part of my heart, I guarded it so carefully as a result of having it broken before.
This home used to be filled to the brim with the love of generations of my mother’s family. Bringing Leo here wasn’t just looking for a new place to hook up. I was opening my heart to him in the only way I know how—by letting him into the parts of my life I guard zealously.
Now, as I hover in front of the large window my mother added when I was a child, I wonder if I’ll only associate this place with heartache. Because he told someone I wasn’t enough.
Words that are now part of my home’s history. They’re written on the walls that breathed love into my heart every time I came here. But like all places of importance, it absorbs feelings. Especially heartache. Now, I don’t know how I’ll never hear his voice.
At least, not any time soon.
Ever since my mother passed away when I was sixteen, I’ve escaped to her family home in Saratoga Springs, New York, because this is the place where I knew it was safe to let my guard down. Mama would bring me here while my father was traveling the world for his career if we didn’t go with him.
My fingers curl around the edge of the window frame as I watch him come to an abrupt stop. From my position, I see him hesitate as he tries to take another step down the long, winding driveway.
Like he doesn’t know how to leave.
“Just go.” My voice pleads, even though it’s impossible for him to hear me. I know I won’t be able to maintain my composure much longer but I can’t just stand there not knowing he’s gone after those words were delivered with such carelessness.
Despite squeezing my eyes closed as tightly as I can manage, tears continue to fall.
I tried this trick after my mother died; it didn’t help.
Nothing does. If anything, my tears are gathering faster beneath my closed lids.
His words altered something deep within me, just after I gave him my heart. I whisper, “You told me you loved me.”
Recalling our time in bed this morning, my heart bleeds.
Rolling him over, I straddle him while he lies back against the pillows.
I lift my hips until only the head of his cock nudges my entrance, then sink down slowly.
His muscles tense as his erection slips inside me inch by glorious inch.
When he’s fully seated, I still. My inner walls squeeze his cock in small pulses until his breath fractures and his hands fly to my waist.
“Jesus, Chris.”
I hum out a sigh of contentment before rolling my hips forward so he grazes that sensitive place just behind my pubic bone. A small mew escapes my lips. He groans, hips jerking upward. Pressing a palm to his chest, I relish in the small bit of control he’s giving me.
I ride him until sweat glazes my spine and trickles between my breasts.
When my thighs begin to shake, I lean back, bracing my hands on his knees, changing the angle so his thickness rubs against my inner walls with every thrust. The sounds that fill the room are perfect—wet flesh and ragged inhales.
He sits up suddenly, mouth fastening onto my nipple.
His tongue flicks back and forth until sparks shoot straight to my clit.
One of his arms bands across my lower back so my body can’t retreat from the rising pleasure.
His other hand slips between us to thrum my clit in tight circles timed to each lift of my hips.
The dual pressure spirals fast, causing me to cry out.
My inner walls clamp around him in fierce waves that leave me dizzy.
He follows right after, a shouted curse muffled against my breast as he pistons upward once… twice… then stills as his cock throbs inside me. Even when he was spent, he didn’t let me go—arms staying locked around me while aftershocks vibrate through us both.
“I love you.”
His body stills before his voice says haltingly, “I love you too.”
Ripped from my reverie, I realize a car has finally pulled up to the end of the driveway. The daytime running lights cause it to stand out through the density of the trees. It slows first before coming to a complete stop once they’ve confirmed they’re in the right place.
Leo shifts to glance back at the house, as if he’s contemplating a major decision. His face mirrors the same devastation I feel. Good, I think. The bitter part of me wants him to experience a fraction of what’s eroding my heart right now.
Finally, he turns and trudges the rest of the way down the long drive.
Vigilantly, I stay at the window as he tosses his bag in the trunk before sliding into the back seat.
From my vantage point, I watch as the brake lights flare before he’s carted away, disappearing from my view and out of my life.
But I’m less angry than emotionally devastated.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I accept I’m going to hurt for some time.
Already, my eyes burn from crying. My heart aches when I realize I gave Leo something I’ve never shared with any other man—my heart.
I try to reassure myself, “You’ll eventually be okay, even if you have to redefine what okay means. ”
I thought I mattered to Leo. That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. If he didn’t feel the same way, why say it back to me? Why not just gently soften the blow before ending what we had? I can’t reconcile the man who said, “I love you too.”
My hand drops from the window frame. My shoulders straighten—not because I feel strong, but because I don’t know what else to do with myself. I get to work packing because I can’t stay here. Not with the memories of our lovemaking hovering, tangled right alongside his betrayal.
I begin the process of shutting the house down.
It’s automatic, muscle memory from years of coming here alone.
Lights off in the hallway. Check the stove and back door.
Adjust the thermostat. Each step is controlling the storm from erupting.
If I keep moving, I don’t have to fully feel my heartbreak.
Not yet anyway.
The kitchen light clicks off, plunging the space into shadows.
I rest my hands on the counter for a second, staring down at the countertop my mother picked out decades ago.
She would despise the way I’m standing here pretending I’m fine.
I can hear her voice, soft and firm, echoing in my head. “You don’t shrink for anyone, Pumpkin.”
Walking into the hall, I stop my scrambling to pick up a photo her parents took of her during my parents’ engagement party. “I won’t shrink because of this, Mom.”
But I know myself enough to know I’ll retreat inside myself. After all, I’m no novice to love, pain, and loss. The walls I built after my mother passed away surge forward to guard what’s left of my heart again.
Refusing to give in to grief, I let out a faint, humorless laugh as I gather my bags. “So much for bringing Leo here,” I murmur to the empty air.
Leo gained access to my sanctuary because I thought we were on the same page. I’d made the decision to ease him into my family since our worlds are more closely aligned than he could have imagined.
Still, I refuse to let him define my life. Who I am and what I’m becoming. Because for all the software I fix, all the times I’ve hacked something to remove problems, I can’t erase the agony his words inflicted. There’s no way to code past it.
I just have to live with it.
My gaze drifts back to the window, to the empty drive beyond it. I vow, “What you said today won’t define me, Leo.”
The house responds with its quiet hum. It’s as if it understands that the women in my family are fighters. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I purge the hurt in my heart.
Alone.
I head for the garage. It’s time to head back to Manhattan. Back to my penthouse. Back to a life I built line by line. I’ll submerge myself in work with code open on one screen, security protocols on another. Either hacking or repairing systems.
Back to being the version of myself that doesn’t break no matter what Leo said about me.
And nothing gets to follow me. Not his voice. Not the way his words shattered my heart.