23|Lonely Nights
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, my hip cocked as I adjusted the silk robe slipping off my shoulder.
My skin was glowing under the soft morning light, the curve of my waist was so sharp, and my legs were long and bare against the marble tiles.
I tilted my head and parted my lips as I studied my reflection.
It had been the first time I truly looked at myself since my pregnancy and I looked good.
My robe fell completely open, and I didn't bother to fix it.
Instead, my hands gripped my breasts, lifting them slightly as I admired their shape and fullness.
I don't know why I never gave loving myself a try.
Maybe because I was always too busy proving something.
To my parents.
To Nate.
To the world.
My right hand slowly slid from my breast, to my chest to my stomach, then to the curve of my waist.
My breath caught just a little as I watched my own reflection.
A soft moan escaped my lips as my fingertips dipped lower, teasing my clit I hadn't touched in months.
I closed my eyes as my fingers began to move in slow circles.
Images of Nate smiling, talking, looking at me like I was the only one in the room, invaded my mind.
I quickly shook my head trying to think about something else as the ache between my legs grew.
But the way he used to touch me without thinking or when his voice dropped when he was too tired to argue.
"Shit," I cursed as I began to speed up.
The way he looks at me whenever he's angry or whenever he does that weird thing where he flexes his jaw like he's holding back a storm.
Whenever he thinks too much and feels even more, but would rather die than say a word of it out loud.
And the veins on his hands whenever he used to grip me.
"Fuck," I cursed, my whole body tensing as a wave crested inside me.
I rushed to my drawer beside my bed before pulling something I hadn't used before.
I hesitated for a moment, but when I felt that pulse in my pussy, I grabbed it before falling back on the bed.
A quiet whirr of the vibrator filled the room as I closed my eyes and slowly guided it through my wet parted folds.
My mouth widened uncontrollably as warmth bloomed slowly in my belly.
Memories of Nate attacked me.
All the times we used to argue.
All the times he used to turn me around and fuck me from behind like he hated me, but needed me at the same time.
My breath caught as the ache deepened, a swirl of sensation and memory.
I could still feel the imprint of his hands, even now.
The way he'd grip my hips like he was trying to hold himself together.
I hated how much I missed that.
I missed him.
But not just the sex.
I missed the way he used to look at me afterward, chest heaving, eyes a little wild, like I was the only thing anchoring him to earth.
The vibrator pulsed against me, torturous, steady, and insistent.
I closed my eyes tighter, trying to push him away, but instead he came closer, not his face, but the heat of him.
The scent of sweat and cedar.
The ghost of a whisper in my ear.
I let my hand slide lower, slow and deliberate, chasing that edge between pain and pleasure, love and loss.
The feeling felt tight, electric, and impossible to outrun.
My breath caught in my throat, my knees trembling as I squeezed my breasts with my free hand, feeling so good.
"Nate," I moaned softly as the strong and merciless feeling pulsed through me.
I couldn't help, but smile as I felt everything all at once before my climax slowly came to an end.
As I tried to catch my breath, there was a sudden knock on the door and I quickly opened my eyes.
"Just a minute!" I shouted as I wrapped my rob around me and rushed to the door.
"Yes?" I answered, only opening the door slightly.
Nate stood outside without an expression on his face as he towered over me.
His eyes dragged over me, my messy hair, my heavy breathing, my barely tied robe, but he didn't even bother to question it.
"I'm here for things," he flatly said.
Surprisingly, he hadn't returned to Eden's room.
He picked one of the guest bedrooms.
I swallowed. "Well, I'm busy right now."
He scoffed as he tried to push the door open. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for my things."
I used all my force to keep it shut. "Come back later."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why? I just need my things."
"You'll get them later," I glared at him.
"I won't be here later," he argued. "Now is my only free time."
"Then I'll pack them up and bring them to you," I told him.
He tightened his jaw.
"I don't need you to do me any favours and I don't need you being difficult right now," he snapped. "Just let me get my shit and go."
"No," I argued and he sighed as he rubbed his forehead.
"Naomi, I get that you genuinely get a kick out of arguing with me for no reason, but I don't have the patience anymore."
I glared at him. "You think I'm doing this to get a 'kick' out of it?"
"Yes, I do," he glared back at me.
I angrily stepped back, letting him in. "Do what you want. I don't care anymore."
He stepped inside without hesitation, brushing past me like I was just part of the furniture.
His shoulder grazed mine, and I hated the way how my body reacted.
"You say that every time," he muttered, heading straight to the dresser.
Yeah, I walked away from him that day.
It wasn't because I didn't love him.
I was scared.
I was scared I wouldn't be able to give him the love I used to.
I was scared I couldn't love myself enough to be the kind of woman he deserved.
The kind of woman I used to be.
Before the baby.
Before the guilt.
Before he started looking at me like I was the enemy.
He suddenly sighed before pausing.
"Don't be with stupid with the Hernandez trial," he said, his back still turned to me. "I heard you picked it up."
I crossed my arms. "Don't worry, I'll try not to embarrass the Carter name in court."
He turned around slightly, just enough for me to catch the edge of his profile. "That's not what I meant."
"Isn't it?" I asked, fixing my robe.
He shook his head before turning to face me fully.
"The case is high profile and messy," he explained. "And Babel is your prosecutor."
"He's good," he warned. "I trained him myself."
"He studies your behaviour," he continued. "Don't let him use your emotions against you."
I hated how even after everything, he was still concerned for me.
"And what if he does?" I asked quietly, starting to feel intimidated.
He turned around and continued to pack his things. "Then don't make him see it."
I crossed my arms and stepped closer behind him.
We quickly caught each other's reflection in the mirror and for a moment, we silently held contact.
He was the first one to break it as he shoved his last shirt in his duffel bag.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "I know you'll win."
"But you said-"
"I said he was good," he interrupted me before looking over his shoulder.
"I may have trained him, but I trained you better," he ended and my heart was pounding so hard I thought I was about to get a heart attack.
He picked up his bag before turning around to me.
"I just wanted to give you a heads up," he said before stepping forward, but I quickly grabbed him, not wanting him to leave.
His eyes dropped to where I was holding on to him before slowly meeting mine. "What?"
"I-"
I bit my lip before looking down at the tile.
Whenever it comes to him, I just choke.
He pulled away his hand from me before starting to walk away again.
I quickly rushed behind him and grabbed him again. "Wait."
He sighed. "Naomi, I don't have time for your games."
"Just give me a minute," I asked, taking a deep breath.
"Tomorrow makes a year since..." I trailed off when he gave me a glare saying not to finish that sentence.
"I think we should visit her...together," I said. "To make her know that her mommy and daddy are still trying."
His jaw tightened as he stepped closer to me. "No."
"What?" I asked, not expecting that answer.
"You're not going to use our dead daughter's memorial to try to pull me close again," he started.
"Why can't you just stop beating around the bush for once in your life and tell me what you really want?"
I blinked at him, stunned. "That's not fair-"
"No, what's not fair is you bringing Eden into this," he snapped and I flinched.
That's all he thinks of me, huh?
"You know what, you don't have to come with me," I glared at him, hoping he wouldn't see the tears forming.
"I wasn't planning to," he bitterly ended before beginning to storm out, but his eyes landed on the bed.
A confused expression appeared on his face before he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
When my eyes landed on the bed, they instantly widened.
I forgot to hide the vibrator.
I quickly rushed to the bed to hide it, but it was too late.
The damage had been done.
His eyes locked onto mine, not with anger this time, not even mockery.
Just stunned silence.
His mouth opened, then closed again like he was trying to find footing in a conversation that had already collapsed.
"I-" I started, clutching the vibrator in one hand like it was something fragile.
My voice cracked. "It's not what you think."
I thought explaining might help, but I think it only made things worse.
He blinked before shaking his head.
"I don't even want to know," he said before rushing out.