Chapter 29 Theo
What the absolute fuck is wrong with me? I storm into my studio, flip on all the lights because she fucking knows I live here anyway, and dig ice out of the freezer.
The second a shattered, crying Lexie stormed off, reality hit, and everything in me broke.
What was I thinking threatening to ruin her?
Jesus Christ, I wasn’t thinking. About anything.
Ever since I saw her nine months ago in that coffee shop, I don’t think, ever.
I know why I lashed out. She caught me off-guard with Olivia.
I’ve been protecting that woman for years, building this case against my father, and I panicked.
But it’s still not okay.
The second Lexie got in a cab, I jumped into another one to follow her home and called Michael to scrape that stupid prick off the alley and bring him to the ER.
Not that I care if he lives or dies. With what he said to Lexie, with how he was trapping her, he can fucking rot.
But prison time doesn’t sound fun, and I don’t want to task Michael with covering up a murder.
And then I called Lexie. Over and over, ten, twenty, thirty times. All calls went to voicemail.
I slump onto the couch, glance to see if by some miracle she opened her blinds (she didn’t) and rest the towel-wrapped ice on my knuckles.
And then I call. Again.
She sends me to voicemail. Again.
I flex my hands, confirming full movement, and thank Christ the blood on my fist was his and not mine.
By tomorrow, they’re going to be bruised and swollen, but nothing’s broken thankfully.
How the hell would I explain that at the clinic?
Tell them there’s a reason I’m a doctor and not a carpenter, and I’m never assembling a dresser again?
They’d all believe me. No one sees this other side of me, the darkness behind the shiny cloak.
Except now, Lexie.
Fuck.
I’m a doctor, for God’s sake. A doctor. I heal. I don’t hurt.
Do I feel bad for what I did? No. He got exactly what he deserved.
Was it still bad judgment? Yes.
And yet, I soak in the vision of the bloodied, half-conscious prick on the ground, paying for his sins and the vile shit he spewed.
When I hit him, it felt good. Really fucking good, and I want to do it again.
The intense blinding rage consumed me. In a few months, Lexie will leave my life forever, and I can’t even breathe thinking of that world.
She’s been part of my life for so long, stitched and engraved into my soul, and that guy didn’t even fucking care.
But now what? Am I just supposed to walk away? Pretend like it’s done? Pretend like the taste of her mouth was enough, that it was the taste I was chasing all these years, and not her? Because now that I’ve had the taste, I know it’s more.
It’s always been her.
I pace the studio, look out the window, pace some more. Fuck, why did I threaten her like that? My stomach knots, furious and gross, and I try Lexie’s number again.
Voicemail.
I still feel the way her body moved against me. How she grinded against my cock, how I wanted to fuck her in the alley and the only thing that stopped me was knowing I had that guy’s blood dripping from my hands.
Not the wedding, not Anna, not my commitments. The blood.
It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid, but she has this vise grip on me that won’t release.
But that mouth… now that I’ve tasted those dangerous lips, I’m obsessed.
I need more. I slump onto the couch and push my thumbs into my forehead.
The way her lips moved against mine, plush and full and needy.
Her velvet tongue. The way she kissed me back, frantic and urgent…
it won’t leave me. That beautiful mouth worked me. Her tongue owned me.
I grab my phone and send what feels like the hundredth message tonight.
Theo: Can we talk?
My breath locks when I finally see the three bubbles pop up.
Lexie: fuck you
I toss the phone. Not that I expected anything else.
Maybe it’s good that she doesn’t want to talk, because what the hell would I say? That she’s the most beautifully addictive poison, and I need her to stop being who she is so I can breathe again? God, I need this wedding to be over so I can cut her out of my life, completely.
But even thinking that feels like someone kicked me in the chest, and now, I’m back to not breathing. Fuck.
How am I supposed to go on without her? This part of me, something that started as a parasite that I wanted to rid myself of, is now etched into the deepest part of my soul. I’ve known Anna my entire life, but somehow it feels like Lexie knows more of me, the authentic me, all of me.
Time is so limited, slipping through my fingers with the speed of a jetliner.
So, what the hell am I doing, not soaking up every bit I can?
Yes, she doesn’t want to speak to me because she doesn’t know everything.
But I can’t tell her, can I? Only Anna knows about the investigation, and even she doesn’t know everything.
And with the wedding… there’s so many legalities guaranteeing silence that the details may as well be in a reinforced steel vault.
And when I’m married… Lexie would never be the other woman. Not that I’d ever ask her to. I’d want to be with her, fully. Devoted. Show her the world, treat her to everything she wants. She’d be my pride. My heart. Not someone I keep hidden.
I throw my wet towel aside, flex my burning fingers, and drag myself to the shower. The heated water does nothing to ease the tension. Everything is tight. My shoulders. My chest. My fucking heart.
My heart.
I stand under the stream for close to an hour, doing nothing but thinking. I need to fix this. But how? After I step out, I peek one more time across the street but already know her blinds will be closed. I tug the covers over me, but sleep is non-existent as I toss and turn in bed.
My thoughts are swirling, constantly drifting back to how she looked at me before she left.
Hurt filled her beautiful eyes. And I should’ve been happy.
I’ve wanted, craved, to see the hurt. Payback for toying with me back in the day.
But the way her eyes mirrored my broken insides killed me.
Why did her hurt hurt me? This is what I wanted, wasn’t it?
I blink at the clock, see not much time has passed. Christ. I’m not going to sleep for the rest of my life. Maybe I don’t deserve sleep. Maybe this is my punishment.
After the wedding, there’ll be no reason to see Lexie. The thought clamps down on my chest so hard I have to sit up to force air back between my ribs. After the wedding, I have to give up the studio, I’ll be moving in with Anna, I have to put Lexie out of my mind.
God, I hate this. My insides are torn, my brain is split.
Each side is on an infinite fight loop with the other, and at any given moment, I don’t know which side is going to win.
My love and loyalty to Anna and my promise to her, and my insatiable need to be with Lexie.
I press my thumb above the bridge of my nose and exhale.
Everything’s spinning out of control. Throughout my entire life, I’ve prided myself on control.
I live for control. But Lexie knocks me off alignment, and I can’t think clearly when she’s around.
I was top of my class in medical school, the youngest attendee at my clinic, I’ve written scholarly articles that have been published in world-renowned medical journals, and yet I can’t fucking think when I’m around Lexie.
Finally, at six a.m. I pick up the phone and call the only person who can help me.
Anna.