Chapter 21
Sarah
We managed to find a small alcove—not quite a cave, but a shield from the rainstorm that had hit. It was just our luck that a rainstorm would find us when we were actively traversing the woods. Not in the last few days, or after we had found safety, but now.
The rain fell heavily around us, the sound of crashing water everywhere as it broke through the trees and onto the ground.
I looked at Fai, who was standing next to me, his hair once again plastered to his forehead, water droplets falling down his cheeks and under his shirt, which was also soaked.
The thin shirt was molded to every ridge and muscle of his torso, teasing me with the body I loved.
I wasn’t much better. The hoodie Fai had pulled over my head was damp and heavy on my frame.
I pulled it off and over my head, revealing an equally wet shirt, throwing it to the ground by us.
We were both soaked through, from head to toe.
The rain didn’t dampen the fury within me. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was livid with him—so goddamned angry. I wanted to scream, cry, and fight. I wanted him to understand every bit of betrayal I felt within.
He loved me.
That damned idiot loved me, and yet he had lied and said he didn’t. He knew that by lying, I would finally give up on him; I would finally leave. I would sever that final tie that bound us together. And that’s what he wanted. He wanted me to walk away. He wanted me to leave him.
“Why didn’t you just do it?” I asked wearily.
He looked down at me, his eyes pleading with me to stop with this conversation. But I couldn’t. I was finally getting the answers I had wanted for over a year. “Do what?”
“File the papers. Divorce me.”
He sighed. It was a weary sigh wrought from months of lying to me—lying to all those around him about us. “I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could have,” I argued, turning to face him fully.
This was the most ridiculous setting to have this conversation. We were stuck in a cave, in the middle of a rainstorm while running from his maybe crazed brother. But I was beyond caring. I had questions for him, and he owed me all the answers.
He shook his head. “No, I couldn’t have. I couldn’t give you up. I could let you leave. I could let you walk away, but there is no version of me that would be able to leave you.”
“Do you realize how selfish that is? How selfish you were to do that to me? You were too much of a coward to file the damned papers yourself. You lied; you broke my heart; you broke me. You made me do your dirty work,” I argued back, my voice rising with each word, tears spilling over my cheeks. “You lied,” I seethed.
His eyes flamed. “And you didn’t?”
I scoffed. “A fake boyfriend is nothing compared to a lie that ended our marriage.”
“Would you be able to handle the news that I had moved on? That I had found someone new to love—someone other than you?” he challenged.
The idea of Fai with another woman sent a stone to my stomach I hadn’t expected. After everything—our relationship, marriage, and divorce—I had not once thought of him moving on.
“I was selfish, yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands to his sides.
“I have never once claimed to be perfect. You knew how broken I was when you married me. But I can say with everything I am, I have lied to you once. Lie by omission, yes, a thousand times. I didn’t always tell you the truth.
I didn’t tell you when I relapsed. I didn’t tell you when I started spiraling.
But I spoke one lie. One single time, to save you.
To save you from me.” He pointed to himself, punctuating his point.
I glared at him, so angry he was comparing my stupid lie about a boyfriend to his lie about loving me.
“I hate you,” I growled.
He glared at me right back, his brown eyes meeting mine with force, not willing to back down. “No, you don’t. You hate that you still love me.”
He was right. I hated that I let myself be hurt by him.
I hated that I had stayed with him as long as I had.
I hated that he had lied to me. I hated that he tried to justify it as necessary to save me.
But most of all, I hated that no matter what he did, no matter how he hurt me, or no matter how hard he pushed me away, I would always, irrevocably love him.
We were nearly touching, both of our chests heaving. Every muscle in my body was taut—ready to explode on him—and he seemed to be the same. He looked down at me, his glare slowly filling with a heat I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t anger, nor lust, but a mixture of the two dancing in his eyes.
“You do, don’t you?” he asked, his voice near a growl. “Say it… say you love me.”
I shook my head, refusing to give in to him.
He stepped closer, the distance between us now gone.
I could feel the heat of his body radiating through his shirt and sweeping across my chest. All semblance of logic was leaving me as his breath fanned my face while he looked down at me.
He took his hand and raised my chin with his forefinger. “Say it, Sarah. Say you love me.”
“I hate you,” I muttered with no conviction.
He scoffed a laugh, his hand leaving my chin and weaving through the hair at the nape of my neck. I whimpered as he pulled slightly, angling my head perfectly. He leaned down, his mouth a breath from mine.
“Say it,” he commanded.
His eyes were dark with lust, his chest rising and falling with force as he held himself back. He was waiting for the words as if they were his permission—his permission to take me once again. To claim me as his, even for a moment.
Because if I still loved him, then I still wanted him.
“I love you,” I breathed, and he pounced.
His mouth collided with mine in a kiss that seared through my soul.
Heat flooded through my body, replacing the chill the rain had left.
Fai didn’t just kiss me—he devoured me. With one hand woven through my hair, his other dipped under my shirt, his fingertips feeling their way up my spine slowly, fervently.
His tongue dipped into my mouth, and he moaned as he tasted me.
I melted into him, giving up any semblance of resistance.
It was futile. Every cell in my body had always wanted him and always would.
My hands gripped his sides, pulling him closer to me, forcing away the divide that we had built between us.
His mouth moved from mine to my jaw and down my neck, nipping as he went. I lost myself to the sensation of my body—my heart finally being home. Finally being with Fai.
His fingers were cold against my back, and his hand gripped me as tightly as he could, as if scared I would disappear if he let me go.
“Fai,” I moaned as he kissed my collarbone.
He hummed against my skin, but understood what I needed, what I was asking for.
After sixteen years together, he understood my needs, my desires better than I did.
He freed my hair, using his hands to peel my soaking shirt up and over my head, releasing his mouth from mine for just a breath.
His lips found mine again the moment I was freed of my shirt.
His hand found my body once again, one grasping onto one of my butt cheeks as he ground his pelvis into me.
The other was exploring my body, moving up my side to my breast where he glided a thumb across my taut nipple.
His hand on my backside kneaded me through my leggings, pulling me closer to him, making his arousal more than evident. We had all but lost our minds, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him in any way I could have him.
I reached my free hand between us, grasping at him through his jeans, feeling his hard length straining against the denim.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his head collapsing into the crook of my neck, thrusting against his will into my hand, his control beginning to snap.
“I want you,” I moaned softly into his ear. I didn’t want any doubt in his mind, I wanted him to know I wanted him right here, right now. I didn’t care that it was ridiculous. I didn’t care we were in the middle of the woods while a rain storm bellowed around us.
He practically growled into my skin and backed us into one of the cool rock walls, my naked back colliding softly with the stone. He reached down, hiking my leg up around his hip. I stared at him for a moment, trying to catch my bearings, but he gave me no time to think.
His hand dipped into my leggings, his fingers finding my core, diving passed my wet lips, and dipped lightly into me before moving back to my clit, moving in slow circles.
“Oh god,” I moaned, my head falling back against the rock, my eyes closing.
I wanted to fall into the sensation, lose myself to his fingers.
He continued the motions and kissed along my neck.
His fingers worked rhythmically, diving into me softly, gathering my wetness and moving it upwards, as he circled my bundle of nerves.
My legs began to shake and he took my weight with his hand that was holding my leg.
“You feel so good,” he mumbled. I opened my eyes, my breaths coming faster, my mind fogging as I teetered on the edge—nearly crashing into my impending orgasm.
Fai’s gaze was glued onto his hand that was working me with expert ministrations. His eyes were dilated, his breaths matching my own—heavy and needy. He seemed to be savoring the moment as much as I was.
He glanced my way, only to be snared by my steady gaze. The second our eyes locked, he faltered, the world around us coming to a sudden standstill. I whimpered, needing him to continue. Needing him to bring me over the edge.
The sound snapped something in him as his mouth collided with mine in a force as he thrust his fingers into me. I moaned into his mouth loudly. His tongue and fingers followed the same motion, thrusting into me with rhythm.
I began convulsing as the warmth of my orgasm crashed into me like a wave, overtaking every sense, every feeling. All I felt was him.