23. Wendy
“It’s happening again,” said Vincent, his words spinning in my head, haunting every inch of bone in my body. What was happening again? I wasn’t even sure. The pictures? His betrayal? Abandoning me? What was Vincent referring to exactly? I started to tremble as an unexpected chill wracked my body. I couldn’t do this again.
Go through this again.
“I'm sorry, Wendy,” he said. His voice came out strangled and hoarse, like it was dragged from the depths of his soul. Vincent grabbed my cold hands and held them tight like his lifeline. “I will take care of this...again.”
“It sounds like it was never taken care of in the first place.” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. It was like reliving a nightmare, and I was caught in deja vu. As much as I wanted to push him away, to yell at him, blame him for turning my life into an emotional battlefield, I found myself incapable. There was something about Vincent, an inexplicable pull that always drew me back to him despite everything.
“We’re going to figure this out together. I promise,” Vincent added urgently like he was pleading for forgiveness, for acceptance.
“Are you out of your mind?” Blair stepped forward and away from Zachary and a sleeping Sadie. “Wendy, he’s putting you in danger. Let him figure it out.”
“Blair, stop,” Zachary warned, his fingertips brushing Blair’s arm, but she wrenched away.
“I’m serious.” Blair glared at Zachary before turning to me. “Look at what he's done to you, Wendy,” she said, her eyes brimming with anger and worry. “He left you once, didn't he? How are you so sure he won't do it again?”
My heart pounded as I looked from Blair to Vincent, torn between the past and the present, between love and fear.
“Shut up, Blair,” Vincent snarled, anger burning in his blue eyes like the hottest and deadliest flames.
“Blair,” Zachary warned again, his eyes ablaze.
“You’re defending him?” Blair pivoted to face her husband, eyes wide in shock.
“Let them figure it out.” Zachary nodded to me and Vincent.
Blair’s response was sharp, cutting through the fallen tense silence. “That’s not your decision to make, Zachary.”
“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But it’s not yours either.”
As the argument thickened in the tiny space, the walls surrounding my heart crumbled. Zachary was right: it was my choice. But what were even my choices? Follow Vincent blindly? If he would even allow me to…
“Wendy?” Vincent’s voice dragged me back to reality.
I turned to him, and in his eyes, I saw the same torment mirrored in my own. A man chained to his past, a man desperately seeking redemption. I momentarily let myself be lost in those blue depths, reassuring him that I was there despite everything.
“Yes?” My voice felt like smoke—wispy and thin.
“You trust me, right?” His voice wavered, and uncertainty crept into his usual confident demeanor.
Did I trust him? Could I trust him? The logical part of my mind, and Blair’s words, screamed no. But my heart held a different answer.
“I...” The word slipped from my lips but was swallowed by the tension between us all. Suddenly, Sadie stirred in her sleep, pulling everyone's attention away from me.
As Zachary cradled his daughter closer to himself and Blair stood rigidly beside him, Vincent kept his gaze fixed on me. His eyes were pleading for an answer only I could give him.
“I need some space.” I escaped his gaze as I stepped away from them. The chaos of their emotions was suffocating. Stumbling to the bedroom, I collapsed onto the mattress, crawling until I reached the headboard, sinking my head into the cool white pillow.
The room felt cold, too big, and echoed my own emptiness. My chest tightened as I lay still amidst the deafening silence. The hushed voices from the other room reached me, muffled and distant, yet they sounded unlike anything human. The bubbling tension was almost palpable. I could picture Vincent standing there, his handsome face hardened into a stone statue, Blair’s reddened eyes boring holes into him, and Zachary trying to play mediator while he comforted a stirring Sadie.
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. A part of me wanted to scream out in despair, to call Vincent back into the room so I wouldn’t be alone. But there was another part that needed this solitude. Except, it didn’t last long. Light knocks against the door caused me to inhale, kissing goodbye any alone time I hoped for.
“Hey, babe?” Vincent asked, opening the door and stepping into the dimly lit room. He shut it behind him, looking like a man lost at sea. “Can we talk?” Unlike the confident Vincent I'd known all these years, he sounded vulnerable.
“We are,” I answered curtly, not bothering to face him.
“I mean... really talk,” he corrected, walking toward me. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch me but close enough to show he was there.
“I don't know what you want me to say, Vincent.” My voice was hushed and fragile.
“You don't have to say anything...just listen,” he urged, his voice thick with desperation.
I inhaled sharply and finally turned to look at him. Ugh, why did Vincent have to be so handsome? His blue eyes shimmered with an intensity that could pierce the blackest of hearts, starkly contrasting the wrinkled shirt and disheveled hair. His rugged appearance made him seem more real, more human—and that was a dangerous thing.
I gestured for him to continue, and he began speaking. “I’m going to fix this. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I will figure it out. Whoever was fucking with me then is still out there now. And we can’t ignore it.”
“Are we really in that much danger?” I hoisted myself until my back was flush against the gray quilted headboard. “Maybe this person just wants to mess with you. Did you ever think what would happen if you ignored him completely?” I paused, reconsidering my last words. “Wait, do you think it’s a guy? Or a woman?”
“Honestly, Wen, I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I lost a layer of my instincts that have always guided me down the right path. And suddenly, it’s like I’m caught in this fog.” Vincent shook his head, glancing at my engagement ring. “I won’t ignore it.” He swallowed. “We won’t ignore it.”
“So what do you suggest we do?”
“Well, tonight I want to run over to the property and ensure no one messed with that. And then I’m going to go sit somewhere and think.”
“All of this is happening tonight?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes. I won’t be able to sit still if I don’t start doing something now.”
“Here we go again.” I rolled my eyes, trying to increase the distance between us on the bed, but there was nowhere to go.
“Don’t say that.” Vincent reached for me but was met with air.
“Why shouldn’t I? You’re running away. Or starting to. This is how it always starts.” I hoisted my knees to my chest, hugging them.
“You’re jumping to a conclusion that won’t happen.” He reached for me, and this time, when his hand got too close to my arm, I swatted it away. “Wendy, come on.” Vincent frowned. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to stay here tonight. With me. And tomorrow, we’ll figure this out together.”
A silence hung in the room, dense enough to be cut with a knife. Even the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Vincent's response.
“You’re right about tomorrow,” he said finally, running his fingers through his tousled hair. “We’ll work on this together.” Vincent stood, and already a piece of my heart was being yanked from my body. “But tonight, I’m going to do what I have to do for us.” He started to walk to the door as a shot of adrenaline surged through my body.
I lunged to the end of the bed, almost falling off. “Vincent, if you leave tonight, I swear…”
He yanked the door open hard enough to pull it straight off the black hinges. “You’ll what?” Vincent shrugged heavily. “Tell me, what will you do? I’m going to be back a little later. I promise.” He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he gently closed the door behind him and disappeared.
I sat there in the stillness of our bedroom, his words reverberating around me like echoes in a hollow cave.
For a long time, I didn't move. It was as if every muscle had turned to stone under the weight of my disappointment, fear, and anger. The clock ticked on, carving each moment of his absence raw into my heart.
At some point, though I didn’t notice, the door opened, and featherlight footsteps padded across the floor. The mattress shifted under someone’s weight, and it wasn’t until a sweet, spiced, and floral scent hit my nose did I realized it was Blair.
“Scoot over, Wendy,” she said gently. The bed creaked and dipped on the other side as Blair made room for herself. “He's not running away, you know. At least not this time.” Her voice was tender but firm. I didn't reply. Instead, I stared at the blank wall before us.
“He's just trying to protect you,” Zachary’s voice chimed in from somewhere distant.
I twisted my body, glaring at Zachary, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You’re just saying that because he’s your friend.”
“No, Wendy. I'm saying that because it's true.” Zachary's gaze was unwavering, his stance strong and secure.
“I didn't ask for protection.” My voice faltered. “I asked for him to stay.”
“And he will,” Blair offered, her fingers gently brushing my shoulder. “Just... give him this night.” Blair gave me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before she rose from the bed and joined Zachary in the doorway. “Where’s Sadie?”
“She’s asleep in the stroller.” Zachary’s eyes raked across Blair’s face, full of unwavering adoration. It made me wonder: did Vincent ever look at me that way?
Too many doubts flooded my mind. And one thing I knew for sure: tonight needed to end.
I straightened on the bed, clearing my throat. “You guys…” I began, but they already knew.
“We’re going to head back to the hotel,” said Blair, throwing me a grin as if telling me not to worry.
“You guys aren’t mad, right?” My voice didn't sound like my own. It lacked its usual warmth and ease. But that was only noticed by me.
“Oh my God. Stop,” said Blair, walking over to me, leaning over, and kissing my head. She enveloped me in a hug, one I didn’t realize how much I needed until I wasn’t letting go of my friend.
“No, we're not mad,” said Blair, her lips pressed to my head while Zachary remained in the room’s shadow. “Just worried. He'll be back. I promise.”
They left the room, their footsteps echoing down the wooden hallway until the front door clicked shut behind them. I felt lonely for the first time in a long while. For what seemed like hours but was likely only minutes, I stared at the door Vincent had left earlier. With each tick-tock of the clock on my nightstand, I became more aware of his absence and the emptiness in my heart. Laying there like a mummy, I watched the minutes turn until an hour turned into two, and he still hadn’t returned.
I held my ring to the dim gold light, staring at its opulence but no longer admiring its beauty or what it symbolized. Thinking about the promise this piece of jewelry carried only made everything hurt more, despite nothing happening yet. A lump formed in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut, avoiding the tears threatening to spill over. I felt a sob tearing at my throat, but I choked it down. Grabbing my finger, I yanked off the ring—the first time since he proposed.
“What are you doing?” Vincent’s deep velvet voice pierced the room’s silence.
I let out a gasp, shooting straight up, my heart pounding against my chest, my mind swirling with a mixture of relief, confusion, and anger. He was leaning against the doorway, his body cloaked in shadows.
“Why did you leave?” My voice was trembling, but there was also a desperate edge. He stepped into the room, and the hushed light fell over his face. His expression was somber, his cobalt orbs shielded with sadness.
“I needed to think,” he admitted quietly, stepping closer until his face was fully in view. Just having Vincent sharing the room’s oxygen made me see just how much I missed him and needed him back. I also hated myself for creating this dependence that a part of me loathed. His eyes shifted to my naked ring finger, and he swallowed. “Why did you take that off?”
“It suddenly felt like a lie,” I confessed, averting my gaze to the ring now clenched tightly in my palm, its cold metal biting into my skin. “What did you think about when you were alone?”
“How to keep you safe.”
“And? Did you figure it out?”
His gaze dropped to the floor, tracing the old, intricate wooden patterns before they lifted again to meet mine. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly.
His admission was like a dagger through my heart—it hurt and healed in the same instant. I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat.
“But I can't lose you, Wendy,” he added quickly, flexing his hands at his sides. “I won't let you go again. You believe me, right?”
“The fact you even need to ask me means you have doubts.” My jaw clenched, squeezing my eyes shut.
And suddenly I felt his hands on me. All over me. But his fingers stopped on the outline of my jaw, grabbing it so I had no choice but to face Vincent. “Look at me,” he growled.
“Why should I?” My heart pounded as my body began to betray me. Vincent’s touch always ignited a spreading heat straight to my core.
“I never deserved you,” he uttered. Vincent’s fingers traced the outline of my face gently before resting on my neck, raising goosebumps on my skin.
“Maybe not,” I replied softly, covering his hand with mine, feeling his warm skin against the cold metal ring in my palm. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t earn me now.”
Vincent’s lips crashed onto mine, his tongue thrusting through my parted lips, dancing with my tongue. His kiss was desperate, raw. I found myself surrendering to it, pulling him closer until his body was flush against mine. His hand moved from my neck to the base of my spine, pulling me closer. He backed up on his knees, hooking his arms under my legs, pulling me down to only toss me onto my back, pinning my hands above my head.
My chest heaved, welcoming the attack as a warm rush of arousal pooled in my underwear. I looked up at him, trapped beneath his weight, my heart pounding. His eyes were dark clouds of desire as he hovered above me, his breath mingling with mine. His thickening cock pressed against my aching sex, wishing he was buried deep within my walls, igniting a flame that spread through every inch of my body.
Vincent pried the fingers open that held the ring, and he took the jewelry, holding it above my eyes to view. Neither of us breathed as he returned the ring to the bare finger where it belonged. As he slid it back on slowly, his eyes never left mine.
“Please, Wendy. I need you.”
It was all I needed to hear to pull Vincent’s mouth back onto mine, solidifying our unity for tonight but with no real promise of tomorrow. I was finished doubting what would happen tonight, tomorrow, or even a year from now. I just needed him, like he needed me.
“Say it again,” I said, my lips pressed against his, sucking his warm breath into my mouth.
“I need you,” Vincent answered as he tore my shirt off and unfastened my bra, tossing the black lace material to the corner of the room. He captured a nipple with his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue, making my back arch off the mattress. My hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips were everywhere—trailing kisses from my neck down my exposed chest, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched.
Vincent’s hands skimmed the waistband of my jeans. They deftly unbuttoned them, sliding them off along with my underwear, leaving me open to his ravenous gaze. His eyes landed on my glistening, dripping pussy. A low growl escaped his throat as he drank me in. He cupped my sex, pressing his thumb against my clit in firm, swirling movements that had me gasping and writhing beneath him. As he slipped a finger inside me, I could not contain the moan that slipped past my lips. His movements were slow, teasing; each time, he withdrew nearly all the way before plunging back in. My body shook with an intensity only Vincent triggered.
“You like when I finger fuck your wet cunt?” Vincent pumped two fingers in me, edging me closer to a climax as my pussy clenched around his digits and my ragged breaths filled the room. He withdrew his fingers, leaving a tortuous ache between my legs. He discarded his clothes hastily, revealing his rippling muscles bathed in the low glow of the bedside lamp. Vincent was above me again, his thick hard cock dripping with beads of pre-cum at my cunt. He wrapped his fingers around his dick, placing the engorged head against my entrance, and it was enough to make me clench at nothing but air. Vincent leaned forward, his lips pressed against my ear as his warm breath tickled my skin. “I need you, Wendy.”
I jerked my head away, forcing us to lock eyes. “Look at me when you say it.” I sucked in a sharp breath.
“I need you, Wendy,” Vincent repeated, and without warning, he thrust deep into me, not even giving me a chance to get used to his girth. It was a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, convincing me to drown in whatever Vincent threw at me.
His cock filled me completely, stretching my walls to accommodate his size. His hands held my hips in a vice-like grip as he set a punishing pace, slamming into me again and again. Each thrust was met with a gasp or whimper reverberating in the room's silence.
“I need you,” Vincent groaned, his voice raw with animalistic hunger. The depth of his need shocked me even as it only made me hotter. He owned me every bit as much as I owned him.
“Yes…” I gasped. “Please, harder. Fuck me harder.” Drops of sweat coated my body, and I raked my nails along Vincent’s back, digging them into his flick flesh as his cock hit the delicious spot that always made my toes curl. A fresh rush of juices coated his length.
Vincent growled in response, increasing his pace. His thrusts were deep and relentless. The slapping sound of our bodies colliding echoed through the room.
“Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” I moaned, tossing my head back onto the white pillows.
Vincent’s grip on my hipbones tightened, his fingers surely leaving marks, but I would care about it later. Right now, I only wanted him.
“Come for me, Wendy,” he ordered fervently, the thick vein on his neck bulging as his rough thrusts brought me closer to the brink of ecstasy.
My orgasm was so close, the coil in my stomach tightening, and I surrendered to the pleasure that was about to engulf me. And then it was like a bomb exploded. I clung onto him like a lifeline as wave after wave of orgasm crashed over me. My body shook violently beneath him, my toes curling, nails digging deeper into his back. I let out a drawn-out scream of his name, echoing through the room.
As I rode out the waves of my orgasm, Vincent's pace turned erratic. The grip on my legs tightened even more, and he let out a low, guttural sound. His body went rigid, then jerked violently, his cock pulsing inside me as he came with a roar that rivaled my own cries. Vincent collapsed onto me, rolling over to prevent crushing me under his weight. He was panting heavily, sweat glistening on his sun-kissed skin.
He pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. We lay there for a while in silence.
I could hear his heartbeat gradually slowing down to its normal pace against my ear. His fingers ran absentmindedly up and down my spine, sending tingles all over my body.
“Vincent,” I breathed out softly after a while.
“Just in case you were wondering,” Vincent began, gazing at me. “I still need you.”