Torn (17 page)

“So…” he started, “in all seriousness, tell me all about this kid of yours.” The fact Mike wanted to listen to me right then meant a lot. He was a flippant guy at best, but every once in a while, he came through and was the friend I needed him to be.

As he lounged back on the couch, settling in for the tale I was going to regale him with, I started from the beginning. I ran through the entire story about Holden…Kalista…all of it. The more I spoke of my son, the more I realized I was truly blessed. He was a great kid, and I looked forward to our future relationship.

But Kalista, on the other hand…that was a completely different story.

KALISTA

I
t’d only been a half hour since Eli had left my house and already I missed him. Over the past two weeks, he’d come over for dinner at least six times, and the times he wasn’t able to make it, he’d been sure to call Holden. They would talk for an hour about God knew what. Whenever I questioned my son, all he would say was, “It’s guy talk, Mom.”

I never pushed. Thrilled they were becoming close, it helped to ease some of the guilt which plagued me on a day-to-day basis. I would always regret the decisions I made, but maybe someday in the future they could both forgive me. Speaking of forgiveness, Eli had still not asked for any answers as to why I left him all those years back. With each sunrise, I envisioned that day would be the day he demanded I tell him everything, but so far they had passed without that happening. Maybe he didn’t want to know after all. Maybe after connecting with his son, their love for each other growing every single day, the past was inconsequential. Maybe I should stop dreaming and prepare myself for the day he will finally call upon me to fess up.

The more I talked about the past with Jasmine or my mom, the more I realized how much of a fool I’d been. I was young, yes, but I should have had more faith in Eli, and in us. I stole his future from him and never gave him a choice, never even gave him a fighting chance. Something which I will forever be sorry for.

Lying in bed, entranced in a great mystery novel, I was startled when my phone rang. Being at a crucial point in the book, I jumped when the vibrations thumped against my bedside table. “Jesus!” I exclaimed, reaching to grab my cell. Not paying attention, my eyes still raking over every sentence of my novel, I hit the ‘answer’ button without checking who was calling.

“Hello,” I said quite breathlessly.

“Kalista?”

His gravelly voice broke the intense connection to my book. There was no way I would be able to concentrate with him speaking on the other end of the line. But it shouldn’t be for long. The only time he called was to tell me he was on his way over, or to talk to Holden. He hardly ever engaged me in conversation, but I didn’t blame him. I didn’t wish to push him beyond what he was comfortable handling, and if keeping his distance from me meant he felt more comfortable about our situation then I owed that to him. I’d already been selfish once in my life, and I didn’t want to be that way again.

“Kalista?” he repeated. “Are you still there?” Damn, his voice is sexy.

“Sorry…yes, I’m here.” Flipping my book over, I crawled from my bed and walked toward my son’s room, preparing to hand him the phone. “Hold on one sec and I’ll give the phone to Holden.”

“I already spoke to him earlier. I’m calling to talk to you.” My steps faltered. A rush of air was sucked into my lungs as I stood in the middle of my hallway, my body tense as I prepared to hear what he was going to say next.

Doing my best to sound calm, I said, “Okay.” Not my finest moment, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He had to take the lead and I would follow.

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” he asked, the rasp in his voice sending bolts of lust spiraling through me the more he spoke. I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about Eli…about us being us again. But knowing I was being delusional was the only thing that saved my sanity. If that made any sense.

We’d spent a lot of time together. Yes, all of our conversations and interactions dealt with our son, but we’d still shared the same physical space many times over the past couple weeks. The initial tension which threatened to strangle both of us seemed to loosen the more we interacted, but a sliver of pull still remained between us.

“Yes, I am.” Afraid to ask why, my silence told him everything he needed to know. I was nervous.

“I would like for you to come to my house…so we can talk. Can your mom watch Holden?” He sounded calm, but the nature of what I knew he wanted to discuss instantly put me on edge. I knew it was coming, so I wasn’t quite sure why I was surprised.

“Yes.” It appeared I was a woman of few words, saying only what I could push past my lips.

“Okay,” he replied. “I’ll see you at seven.” There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “I’ll text you the address.”

After we hung up, I numbly walked back into my bedroom and stood in the middle of the large space. So many thoughts flitted through my head, and I couldn’t decide which one to focus on. Would our upcoming meeting be the final part to our separation? Would he forgive me for past decisions? Would he hold them against me for the rest of my life? Could I forgive myself if he took the first step, absolving me of all my sins where he was concerned?

I knew he deserved to have some sort of closure after the way I’d left things back then, but would my answers give him what he was looking for?

I guess I’m going to find out soon enough.

****

Pulling into his driveway, I nervously unclipped my seat belt, checking myself one more time in the rearview mirror before exiting the vehicle. Wanting more than anything for the evening to go well, I whispered a silent prayer before taking a single step forward.

It was mere seconds after I rang the doorbell before he appeared in the doorway. I couldn’t help myself; as soon as my eyes landed on his spectacular form, a shot of desire pulsed between my thighs. His hair was perfectly styled, his three-day-old scruff making him look good enough to eat…or lick. All over. He was wearing dark-washed jeans and a black T-shirt. Looking down at his feet, I noticed he was barefoot. His casual attire drove home even more that I was on his turf, entering his house, ready to have the conversation he wanted to have.

I felt helpless.

“Kalista,” he greeted. “Thank you for coming.” Stepping aside, he waved his hand forward, gesturing for me to enter. The sound of the large door locking behind me made me jump, an action which instantly embarrassed me for some reason.

Maybe because you’re guilty, knowing whatever sad excuses you give him won’t take away the hurt you’ve caused.

Quieting my conscience, I walked into the nearest room, a library of sorts. His home was beautiful. Rich colors decorated the walls in paintings, the glow of the fireplace illuminating
their every stroke and glide. Rich leather invited me to sit, colorful pillows placed upon the
couches for more of a homey feel. G
lancing around, I wondered if he had a woman help him decorate. Before I could stop myself, thoughts of him with someone else crept in and I instantly became jealous. A feeling I had no right to have, but it was there all the same.

In all the time we’d been in each other’s company, we’d never discussed our personal lives. I had no idea if he was involved with anyone, or God forbid, living with someone. For some reason, I’d naturally assumed since he didn’t mention anyone, he was single. But then again, maybe he didn’t want to discuss his personal affairs with the one person he could no longer trust.

I was a different person now than I was when I was
younger. As
he directed me toward his couch, I vowed then and there to somehow prove it to him. Whether with actions or words, I wasn’t sure yet.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Knowing I would either overindulge if I accepted alcohol or throw up because of nerves, I decided water was the safest option.

“Just water, please.”

Eli disappeared from the room which gave me a moment to breathe and collect my thoughts, but it wasn’t long enough. He was back in no time, walking straight for me, a glass of water held in his right hand.

We settled on the couch and sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us waiting for the other to start speaking first. My guilt riddled me, but I’d be damned if I was going to lead our conversation. He was the one who invited me over. My internal arrogance was comforting, even though I knew I owed it to him to ease the tension I’d created with simply being in his presence. After another minute of quiet, I finally broke.

“Eli,” I whispered, finally deciding enough time had passed and it was time to get down to business, to give him what he deserved—answers.

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear what you have to say.” Shifting in his seat, he lowered his head, and ran his palms over his thighs to help ease his tension. “I’d envisioned this moment…between us…for so long, I don’t know what to do now that it’s a reality.” A slight tremor in his voice told me he was as nervous as I was, although he tried to shield it with anger.

Blowing out a breath, he rose and walked toward the window. Staring out into the night, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting a calming glow over the sky, he lowered his head once again and stood in silence.

More moments passed and still we were bathed in stillness. Deciding I needed to do something, I rose from my seat and walked up behind him. His body instantly tensed as soon as he sensed I was near, and I almost stepped back, but I thought better of it. Having a decision to make, I rolled the dice and decided to reach forward, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. I had no idea how he was going to react, but what he actually did was totally unexpected.

He whipped around so fast, I stumbled backward. Gripping my arms to keep me from falling, he pulled me in to him, his breath cascading over my face as he held me close. Surprised by his intensity, my lips parted in a gasp. His eyes bored into mine, silently trying to tell me his innermost thoughts. But I couldn’t hear them. I could only revel in the closeness between us.

The sharp cut of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils and the longing laced in his intense blue eyes instantly excited me. Trying to push my lust aside, I knew I needed to focus on why I was there. I needed to explain myself and pray he would find it in his heart to someday forgive me.

But then it happened.

Without warning.

Warring back and forth between the past and our new present.

He pulled me closer.

Breathing in his scent forced my thoughts back to a time when we loved each other, when we would do anything and everything just to hold the other and…just exist.

A grunt erupted from his throat, his full lips parting in anticipation.

What I’d been fantasizing about since the day he stormed into my home and demanded answers about our son was on the verge of ripping my new reality to shreds.

His tongue played over his bottom lip, the action spurring my hunger for him even more.

“Fuck it,” he growled, smashing his lips to mine.

His kiss was fierce.

It was angry.

It was unrelenting.

Shocked he was touching me, let alone ravaging my mouth, I froze. But only for a split second. Once I felt his tongue slide over my lips, I opened up for him, inviting him inside with the headiest need.
      

It’d been years since we’d been so intimate, but as the moments passed by, we fell into our old routine. Seduction and lust. Then I remembered what he’d told me. He wasn’t the same man I knew. The Eli I’d known in my youth was gentle and loving.

The man in front of me was aggressive, rough even.

His hold on my upper arms intensified the more his tongue dueled with mine, his teeth biting my lip in frustration. When I groaned, he pulled back and disconnected our quick lapse in judgment.

Our eyes held each other until he pushed me away, a flicker of regret dancing over his beautiful face. While a wall of contempt washed over him, I was left panting like a bitch in heat. Bathing in his fierceness hampered any attempt I’d made to regain my composure.

I have to get away from him, or something is going to unravel between us that neither of us is going to be able to take back.

Even as those thoughts filtered through my brain, I had no idea what they meant. To say he confused me was an understatement. Any other time we’d shared the same space, he never bothered to pay me much attention, his focus solely on Holden. Yes, he’d been polite, complementing my cooking and occasionally helping me clean up, but the only talk was ever about our son.

I had no idea he harbored any king of affections for me still. Most times when he looked at me, there was a blank stare residing in his eyes, like he was doing his best to remain detached from me.

But everything was different all of a sudden.

Before he turned away from me again, the look on his face scared me, the intensity causing me to back up a few steps just so I could breathe. Hunger enveloped us both, but he had to be the one to either continue our dance or put it to bed for good.