Chapter 32
“Ican’t.” My voice caught, tears pricking at the back of my eyes. “Not right now.”
“Why?”
I swallowed hard, steeling myself. This conversation was inevitable, but that didn’t make it any easier. “Didn’t Kevin give you my message?”
Lewis’s scoff crackled through the phone. “He said you left because of me. Because I’d driven you away.”
“What?” Shock lanced through me, followed swiftly by a flare of anger. “That’s not true at all! I didn’t leave because of you and I didn’t tell him that.”
“Then why?” The desperation in his voice was a palpable thing, a living echo of the ache in my own chest. “Please, Liv. I need to understand.”
I closed my eyes, the words like shards of glass in my throat. “It’s my mama. She’s sick, Lewis. Really sick. Terminal.”
A sharp intake of breath, then a beat of stunned silence. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
A sob caught in my chest, the reality of it still too raw, too overwhelming to fully comprehend. “I got the call right after I finished my set in Vancouver. I couldn’t… I had to come home. I had to be with her.”
“Of course you did.” Lewis’s voice was gentle, achingly soft. “If you’d told me, I would’ve been on that plane with you in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this alone.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and fast. He meant it, I knew he did. But it wasn’t that simple.
Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken emotion. I could practically hear the gears turning in Lewis’s head, searching for a solution.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, fresh tears welling. “For not calling, for not explaining. I’ve read every one of your messages, I just… I didn’t have the words. Didn’t have the energy to try and make sense of any of this.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, a catch in his voice. “I understand. I really do. I just miss you. So bloody much.”
My heart clenched, a physical pain in my chest. “I miss you too.”
“I uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been seeing someone. A therapist.”
My breath caught, shock and tentative hope warring in my chest. “You have?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “Jared referred me to his guy. Said he was discreet, that he could help me work through some of my shit.”
“And?” I hardly dared to breathe. “How’s it going?”
A humourless chuckle. “It’s been bloody awful, if I’m honest. Digging up all that old pain…” He sighed, heavy and weary. “But I’m trying, Liv. I’m really fucking trying. Because I want to be better. For you, for us. For myself.”
Tears blurred my vision. “I’m so proud of you.”
And I really was. Even if the stars didn’t align for us again, at least he would get better.
“I’d do anything for you.” The conviction in his voice, the raw sincerity, sent a shiver down my spine. “I know I’ve got a long way to go. I know I’ve still got so much to prove. But I’m in this, cariad. All the way.”
I bit down on my lip, an ocean of emotions threatening to drown me. I wanted to believe him, wanted it with every fibre of my being. But the timing… it couldn’t have been worse.
“Come to the Grammys with me.”
I blinked, certain I must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The Grammys,” Lewis repeated, his voice gaining strength, conviction. “Come with me, Liv. As my date. My real, public, no-more-hiding date.”
My heart stuttered, skipped, then kicked into overdrive. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the excited tremble. “I’m done hiding. Done letting fear dictate my choices. I want the world to know what you mean to me. What we mean to each other.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, hope and love and overwhelming emotion crashing over me in waves. “I want that too.”
“Is that a yes, then?” The boyish hope in his voice, the barely contained excitement, made me want to laugh and cry in equal measure.
“It’s a maybe,” I said gently, hating to dim his enthusiasm but needing to be realistic. “The Grammys are still months away. A lot could change.”
He was quiet for a moment, processing. “What are you saying, Liv?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “I’m saying… let’s take it one step at a time. You focus on the tour, on your therapy. I’ll focus on my family and being here for my mama. And if, after the North American leg wraps, we still feel this way… then we can talk about next steps. About the future.”
“The future. I like the sound of that.”
A smile tugged at my lips, a flicker of warmth amidst the chaos. “Me too.”
We lapsed into silence, the weight of all we’d said, all we’d promised, settling over us like a blanket. It was scary and exhilarating and so full of potential I could hardly breathe.
I probably should have reined in my hope just in case it didn’t pan out. But I needed something to look forward to right now. With Mama’s health declining faster than the doctors anticipated, I needed a glimmer of hope to keep me upright and moving.
Lewis groaned. “I really don’t want to mention this while you’re actually talking to me, but there is something we should discuss.”
“What is it?” Dread settled heavy in my stomach, chasing away the tentative warmth of moments before.
Lewis sighed, the sound heavy with reluctance. “Carly suggested we file for an annulment. She’s been on my case about it. Thinks we need to get it sorted before the press catches wind.”
“Oh.” My breath caught, a sharp pain lancing through my chest.
“I don’t care what Carly wants,” Lewis cut in, fierce and unequivocal. “The only opinion that matters here is yours. So tell me, honestly… is that what you want? Do you want to undo what we did?”
I closed my eyes, tears burning hot behind the lids. “You’re my husband. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. I meant those vows, even if I was too drunk to remember making them.”
Silence filled the line for a moment before his breath rattled the phone. “Just so we’re on the same page, we’re married and staying married, right?” Relief dripped from his tone.
“Yes. This is just us testing out the ‘or worse’ part of our vows sooner than I hoped.”
He chuckled and I smiled, absorbing every second of this temporary high. Later, I’d go back to worrying about my mother, but right now, I just wanted to lay here and bask in his happiness.
“What if I helped you relax?” he asked, his voice dropping until it vibrated against my ear in the most delicious manner.
“What?”
“You said you’re emotionally exhausted. You’re probably stressed too. So let me help.”
“How?”
“Tell me what you’re wearing,” Lewis drawled, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble.
My breath hitched, arousal and amusement warring for dominance. “Are you seriously trying to initiate phone sex right now?”
“Maybe.” I could practically hear his shrug, picture the mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. “Is it working?”
I bit my lip, fighting a smile even as heat pooled low in my belly. “It might be. If you play your cards right.”
His low chuckle resonated through the line, through my body, igniting every nerve ending. “Well then. Tell me, Mrs Davies… what are you wearing?”
I glanced down at my threadbare sleep shorts and ratty old band tee, a wicked idea taking root. “Who says I’m wearing anything at all?”
Lewis groaned, the sound shooting straight to my core. “Fuck, Liv. You can’t just say things like that.”
“Oh no?” I sunk down into the pillows, letting my free hand drift over my chest, my stomach, teasing the hem of my shirt. “And why’s that?”
“Because,” he growled, the rough timbre of his voice making me shiver. “It makes me want to do very, very wicked things to you.”
Heat licked up my spine, pooling molten in my veins. “Like what?” I breathed, already squirming with anticipation. “Tell me.”
“Like kiss my way down your gorgeous body,” he rumbled, low and dark. “Taste every inch of your sweet skin. Run my tongue over your pretty pink nipples until you’re writhing and begging for more.”
I whimpered, my fingers slipping beneath the worn cotton to play over the sensitive peaks. They pebbled instantly, aching for his touch, his mouth. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, breathless and needy. “Please.”
“Greedy girl,” Lewis purred, smug and aroused. “You want more? Want me to tell you how I’d worship those perfect tits with my mouth, my hands, until you’re dripping wet and desperate for me?”
“Yes,” I moaned, pinching and rolling my nipples, sparks of pleasure shooting to my core. “God, Lewis, yes.”
“I’d take my time with you,” he promised darkly, the implied threat making me shudder. “Kissing down your stomach, nibbling on your hip bones. Avoiding where you need me most, until you’re a writhing, pleading mess.”
I could picture it perfectly, could feel the phantom brush of his lips, his stubble against my skin. My free hand drifted lower, teasing along the edge of my shorts.
“Tell me you’re touching yourself,” Lewis said, a stark, wrecked edge to his voice. “Tell me you’re fucking soaked and aching, just from the sound of my voice.”
“I am,” I panted, shoving my shorts down to shimmy out of them. “I’m dripping.”
He made a guttural sound, almost pained. “Christ. Wish I could taste you, bury my face between your thighs until you’re screaming for me.”
I moaned brokenly, fingers dipping into the wet heat of my sex. I was slick and swollen, my clit throbbing for attention. “I’m so close already.” I circled the sensitive nub. “Just from your voice.”
“That’s it, cariad,” Lewis whispered, a tremor in his words hinting at his own unravelling. “Make yourself feel good. Plunge those pretty fingers inside, fuck yourself like I would. Hard and deep and so fucking perfect.”
I obeyed with a sob, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into my channel. My head thrashed on the pillow. “Lewis, god. Wish it was you. Your fingers, your cock, splitting me open.”
“Soon,” he promised, raw and ragged. “Soon I’ll fuck you so hard and sweet, you’ll be ruined for anyone else. Only ever want my cock, stretching that needy little cunt.”
“Yes.” I pumped faster, grinding my clit against my palm. “Only you, always you.”
“Come for me, Liv. Scream my name, let me hear you fall apart.”
I did. Explosively, back arching off the bed as I clamped down on my fingers, inner muscles spasming almost violently. Lewis’s name tore from my throat, a broken, blissful moan as waves of ecstasy crashed over me again and again.
In my ear, Lewis groaned long and low, the unmistakable sounds of his own release spurring my pleasure higher. We rode it out together, gasping and shaking.
Slowly, I floated back to myself, boneless and sated in the tangled sheets. Lewis’s heavy breathing filled my ear, a soothing lullaby I never wanted to end.
“That was…” I sought for words, my sex-drunk brain struggling to string together coherent thought.
“I think you broke me, Liv.”
I giggled, giddy and luminous. “Ditto, Mr Davies. Ditto.”
We lapsed into comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow, in the renewed sense of connection thrumming between us. I could’ve stayed like that forever, suspended in this perfect, peaceful moment.
But reality, as it always did, came knocking.
“I should let you go,” I murmured, regret already seeping in. “It’s late, and we both have big days tomorrow.”
Lewis sighed, heavy and resigned. “I know. I just… I miss you. So fucking much.”
Tears stung my eyes, the ache in my chest throbbing anew. “I miss you too, Lewis. More than anything.”
“We’ll talk again soon, yeah?” The forced cheer in his voice, the stubborn optimism, made me smile through the tears.
“Yes. I’ll get better at checking in. Promise.”
A few more murmured endearments, promises to talk soon, and then we reluctantly rang off. I clutched the silent phone to my chest, tears of sorrow and joy, grief and hope, spilling down my cheeks.