Chapter 31
VIVIENNE
My back is lying on his chest while his arms are on either side of the bathtub. They aren’t all over me like I’d originally expected—he’s stiff, unmoving, and lacking his typical dirty jokes or flirty remarks.
Something changed after Nate answered the door. I just don't know what it could be.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder. Nate’s empty gaze darts to the side, unwilling to meet mine. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
His eyes wince at the question like it pains him, and his jaw tightens before he shakes his head back and forth. Still, the movement is unnatural, forced, like he doesn’t believe it himself.
My brows furrow at his behavior, and worry rises within me, but I let him be. I want to probe. Ask more questions. Get an answer out of him. But he seems out of it. Whatever it is, he’ll come around with time.
Seconds of waiting in anticipation of his answer turn to minutes.
Those long, dreadful minutes eventually turn into however much time passes before his lips land on my jaw.
Small kisses pepper down the side of my neck, but they aren’t filled with eagerness or excitement like they usually are—they feel dampened with sadness, remorse, and loss.
“We both got what we wanted,” Nate whispers against my damp skin. “You’re on your way to finishing your PhD.”
His hand delicately trails down the side of my body, sending the hairs on my skin upright.
“You have that job offer in California lined up.” He squeezes my breast once before his fingers land on my nipple—twisting and pinching, harshly.
I gasp at the pain that shoots through me, arching my back when it turns to pleasure.
“I got the electric plane deal.”
A moan leaves my mouth when his other hand cups my core. He passes his fingers against my slit, teasing, taunting, but not doing anything to bring about any relief.
“My reputation isn’t as shit as it used to be.”
He flicks my clit once before he begins circling that small bundle of nerves. The pace is slow at first, languid, until it picks up, then slows down again.
I want to scream—in pleasure, in pain—and beg him to tell me where this conversation is going. But I’m too caught up in the sensations going off in my body to truly understand what’s happening. To even utter the words I’m looking to speak.
He’s edging me—mentally and physically—bringing me to insanity with his fingers and words alone.
“So where does that leave us?”
There’s no time for me to process what he said right before, nor to come up with an answer to his question when two fingers plunge inside me.
My breath seizes in my lungs, knocking the air right out of me. It’s only when he makes his two fingers three that my mind registers his words. I let out a breathless moan when it turns to four.
We both got what we wanted.
So where does that leave us?
Could he really be insinuating that whatever is happening between us is ov—
Thick fingers plunge in and out of me, fucking the thought right out of my brain. Water splashes out of the edge of the tub with the ferocity of his movements. This goes on for however long, my body pushing back against his with each thrust until I shatter around his fingers.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers in my ear as my pussy spasms around him. Somehow in the midst of it all, he flips me over to straddle his lap.
My arms wrap around his neck on instinct as I feel my body turn to mush. I stay there, recuperating my strength to look him in the eyes. It’s only when I pull back to meet his gaze for the first time since he’s entered the washroom that I see it.
Cold. Dark. Distant.
He’s never regarded me that way before.
There’s something off. Very off.
I close the gap between us, pressing my lips to his, and praying that whatever is going on with him can be healed.
A true love’s kiss. I never believed in fairy tales, but right now, that’s all I can think about in the hopes of breaking this curse.
What starts off as something delicate quickly turns desperate, filled with passion and longing, but most prominently, bittersweet. A war of the tongues. A nibble on my lower lip so hard I’m certain it draws blood.
This feels like an ending.
“Vivienne.” Nate pulls back from my lips with my name on his tongue. Only it’s laced with hurt. Deep-rooted pain. All things I wish I could erase with the three words on the tip of my tongue.
They’d been circling my mind for a long time.
He asked me, “Where do we go from here?” that night in the hotel room. And it’s only when I froze up that he suggested something more casual.
Go with the flow.
Is that why he’s acting this way? Did I not make it clear enough that I like this man more than anything? Could we go back to normal if I told him how I felt and overcame my fear of losing the people I care about?
A large hand circles the back of my neck, drawing me closer, while the other kneads my breast till I’m left wanton and grinding against his rock-hard cock.
I arch against his touch when he pulls me closer by the hip, giving him just enough access for him to latch onto my jaw. He sucks and nibbles on the delicate skin. Hard. Feverishly. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he’ll inevitably leave a mark.
“You’re going to leave a mark.” The words leave me on a sigh, my eyes rolling to the back of my head from the pleasure.
“I know.” Nate leans back, gaze strained on the area before resuming his attack. “I need to leave you something to remember me by.”
I’m slowly unraveling—from bliss, from pain.
And I want to scream—scream at the world for the cruelty of it all.
For making me believe in happy endings once again.
I thought I could have that with Nate. I thought I was going to make it past my fear of admitting my feelings to him and finally come clean.
Clearly, I’d been fed a lie, and those may not exist after all.
Instead, the only scream I let out is Nate’s name on my lips.
“Mission accomplished,” he says as he leaves another mark right above my collarbone. Then on my breast. And finally, on my heart.
Like he hadn't already left his mark there long ago.
I gasp when Nate pulls back from my skin with a loud pop, a crazed look to his eyes as he admires his work. My hands instinctively go to the places where the purplish marks stand.
Tender skin.
Broken blood vessels.
Fragile heart.
He tore down its cage one steel beam at a time, wrapped it in fuzzy blankets, and put it back in. He left me with nothing to protect myself, showed me he could do that for me, and now he’s the one tearing apart what he helped rebuild.
I’d like to say he’s ruined me for other men, but the truth is, there never was, and never will be.
It’s only ever been Nate Archer.
I take in a sharp breath when the tip of his cock teases my entrance. My hand grasps onto his steely length, squeezing hard and eliciting a low groan from him as I line him up with my cunt.
Nate looks me in the eyes, and I look into his—nose tingling and tear ducts on the verge of betraying me. I’m at a loss for words, a loss of hope for where our future might take us. And at this moment, I only pray that my body shows what my mouth won’t say.
Please stay.
Please don’t leave me.
I’ve lost enough people in my life.
I lo—
I slowly sink onto his length, staring into his eyes to see a similar pain reflected in his own.
He groans. I gasp. And I move. Slowly.
Nothing is rushed about it. It isn’t intense or hot or passionate. It feels intimate. Too intimate. Like I really am telling him what’s on my mind, but I’m not all too sure if it will be enough for him.
His thumb lands on my clit, increasing the pressure until I convulse around his cock. He picks up his pace, finding his release quickly after mine before lying there for what feels like an eternity.
I cling to him like he’s my lifeline as he picks us both up from the bathtub. Water drips off us as he sets me down on the toweled floor. A shiver wracks me at the sudden loss of heat, but it quickly dissipates as something warm, fuzzy, and white drapes over my shoulders.
With another, Nate squeezes the water out of my hair before drying off the rest of my body. He works his way back up my arms and legs, circling to leave a chaste kiss on my lips.
Then another.
And another.
Like a drug addict wanting to quit but still looking for his fix.
Before I know it, he leaves the bathroom and comes back in with a set of his own clothes. “I couldn’t find your pjs, so I hope this works instead.”
Nate walks out without another word, and a bittersweet smile makes its way onto my face.
He couldn’t find them because there were none.
I thought we were going to be wrapped up in the sheets all weekend. No need for clothes when I had him to keep me warm. But things don’t always turn out the way you expect. I’ve learned that lesson countless times before, but I guess I needed the reminder.
I make my way out of the bathroom to find Nate in a similar state of dressed, holding a manila envelope and staring as though it’s his greatest downfall.
His eyebrows perk up in shock at my presence, and he quickly hides the thing behind his back. But not before I catch a glimpse of the words scribbled in black Sharpie on its front.
Thought I’d do you a favor.
“What was that?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me. There’s something somber about it, ominous—like the favor was the opposite of what it claimed it to be.
“Nothing to worry about.” Nate carries on casually. “It’s just a work thing.”
The words are unspoken—don’t approach—and as nosy as I was, I respected Nate enough to abide by his wishes. Still, it made no sense. Why would a work thing follow him to my chemistry conference? Across an ocean, no less.
“We’ve got an early flight tomorrow morning. We should probably head to sleep.” He shifts the subject.
I nod in agreement, not liking where our night has taken us.
Despite the newfound tension, there’s no arguing over who’s taking the bed or the couch. Still, that doesn’t stop him from staying at the very edge—his back turned in my direction.
I follow suit, staring in the opposite direction for what feels like an eternity. The silence stretches on until I roll again, and stare at the ceiling in a daze, wondering how we wound up here.
Nate might be far away, but his presence was still so large, so imposing.
From afar, I could see how someone could mistake Nate as scary, but deep down inside, he’s one big, protective softy. With a heart of gold and arms so warm, I could happily die in them.
Falling asleep next to him was always easier. Mornings seemed brighter whenever he was around. Even bad days felt manageable when he offered a smile. Somewhere along the way, I became co-dependent on his presence. But never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d have to go without it.
“Hey, Nate,” I say low enough to test if he's still awake.
“Yes, Vivienne?” he answers almost right away.
The use of my full name doesn’t go unnoticed, and that breaks something deep within me.
“Could you hold me until I fall asleep?”
He breathes in sharply, his chest freezing mid-rise. I’m convinced he’s going to turn me down until the rustling of sheets erupts, and he turns, arms open for me.
I weasel my way toward him, letting him spoon me. Tender fingers run through my wet hair till I’m dizzy and tired, but I’m conscious enough to be aware of what’s happening.
“Hey, Vivienne,” he starts this time.
“Yes, Nate,” I answer in a similar manner.
“If you had the information about your parents’ death, would you want to know?”
A couple of years ago, the answer to that question would have been an easy yes, but now…I’m not so sure.
I lived with the chains of my past for so long—let it hold me back from loving others and experiencing life to its fullest. Now that I’m slowly overcoming these fears, it feels like a chapter of my life I want to leave behind.
The good memories I’ll keep, revel in them in times of need, but the ones who tarnished my spirit, I’ll reject.
“No,” I say with confidence.
Nate doesn’t answer, just simply tightens his hold and pulls me closer.
His warmth slows my spiraling mind, and eventually, my eyes flutter shut, overtaken by a heaviness. Aside from the sound of our inhales and exhales, silence wraps all around us. My mind drifts into a semi-conscious state, and I’m ready to be overtaken by sleep when a low whisper enters my ear.
“No matter what happens, I want you to know I’ll always love you.”
A singular tear streaks its way down my face, and before I know it, they’re multiplying, soaking the pillow beneath me. The dampness makes my hair cling to my neck, but I don’t dare move. I can’t. Not when he’d know I’ve heard.
We promised each other that no one would catch feelings. And if we did, we wouldn’t admit them until the arrangement was over. I'm not sure if any of it still applied—we'd broken so many rules along the way—but the words are unspoken.
This was the end.
The end of something that never truly got to bloom.
I love you too, I think to myself before drifting into a dream state.
A part of me wishes I could say it out loud. That he’d hear the words I so badly want to tell him, hoping they might change the outcome of our situation.
But for the first time on these trips away from the prying eyes of the media, I’m not sure what will be left of Nate and me when we return to real life.
I’m proven right when the only man I’ve ever loved seems to vanish the second we touch down in New York City.