Complicated: A Tainted Love Novella (13 page)

Rachel

T
he smile I see on Marshall’s face scares me. It scares me because I know he’s about to break down my walls with whatever he has to say. I wish I could shut him up, block out what he’s about to say, but a large part of me wants to hear; wants him to get through to me; wants to put our mistakes behind us and move forward.

“This is us, Rae,” Marshall insists, his pleading voice a mixture of frustration and passion. “We’re fucked up and complicated, but fuck if I don’t want it that way. That’s our normal, babe, that’s how we thrive.”

I hate when he makes sense. Nothing about how we came together has been simple or normal but, out of that, we found our ordinary, which wasn’t ordinary at all. Out of complication we bonded closer and developed a sense of us. I don’t want to admit it, I don’t want to capitulate to his reasoning, but the walls around my heart are slowly crumbling, shedding its hard layers piece by piece.

“Rae, I tried to live without you once and I’m not keen on trying that shit again. You drive me fucking crazy, but you also keep me on my toes. We might get at each other’s throats and feel like strangling each other half the time, but let me tell you this: I have
never
loved anyone as much as I love you. Call it complicated, call it a mess, call it whatever the fuck you wanna call it, but it’s us. And that’s what I want – us.

“I might have allowed you to leave before, but I’m not gonna do it again. Bitch, moan and fight all you want with your stubborn ass, I’m gonna take you kicking and screaming. We’ll butt heads a lot, Rachel, but it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t. This – you and me – it’s impossible not to have, so let’s stop fighting it, Firecracker. Fight me, but not our love.”

Each word he speaks sinks deep into my soul, splintering the remnants of concrete around my heart. Tears gush from my eyes as my heart soars inside my chest. This man…this wonderful man is a balm to my soul; the only man that could annihilate me with just a look or a touch. How could I ever think that I could live without him? In all the years that we have been apart, we never truly were since we never erased the other from our psyches, from our hearts. He is my person, my soul and my heart. I love him, Jesus fucking God, I love him.

When that stunning realization hits, my walls disintegrate. Marshall has been it for me ever since I tried to seduce him almost ten years ago. My guilt has kept me from him, but no more. The catharsis that this moment creates is beyond any feeling I have ever felt. I want to tell him how I feel, that I need him just as he needs me, but I struggle for words. There are absolutely none to express what is going on inside my head, inside my heart.

He is my one, my only that was sent for me.

Marshall

I know the moment things become clearer for her: her eyes widen, her lips part on a silent gasp, and she exhales as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and the anvil on her heart has been removed. Crashing together, we pepper hurried kisses over each other’s faces, shoulders and chests. We should be talking things through, but we can’t help ourselves. Reason kicks in after a few minutes and I try to pull away from her but she hangs on to me. We fall back onto the bed and immediately my cock responds seeking out her entrance.

Just before we can even segue into round two, our world comes crashing down. My Dad’s voice cuts through the atmosphere of our sex bubble and Rachel gasps loudly, panic taking over.

“Marshall!” he booms, my mother trying to calm him down.

“Fuck,” I swear, leaping up from Rachel.

“Oh, my God, Marshall!” Rachel exclaims in a hushed tone. “What do we do?”

She’s scared, how can I blame her? We’ve hidden our relationship for so long, having them find out now is a scary thought. But we’re adults now. She’s not fifteen and I’m not twenty. She’s not in high school and they’re not paying my way through college. What we do is our business.

As I slide my shirt over my head and pull on my jeans, sans underpants, I give her the only answer that’s important, “We deal with this,” and hold my hand out to her, hoping to God she takes it.

Rachel

“
W
e deal with this.”

Marshall’s words sound simple, but to me, they aren’t. What was meant to be me just scratching a major itch, turned into something I didn’t want it to be. This was the second time in less than a month that fucking turned into making love for us. How was I to keep my distance if this kept happening?

Furthermore, I’m scared to “deal with this”, because I know what Marshall wants. Every thrust into my welcoming center from our earlier romp had told me what he wanted, what he needed. He wants a relationship and he won’t take no for an answer. His words were just icing on the cake.

The thought makes my stomach flip with fear and also excitement. How long have I spent without this man, wishing that we could be together again? How many times I’d cried, hoping I could turn back the hands of time so we never broke up? How many times I have fantasized about him as I came apart from my fingers or a vibrator? How much longer will I spend without him?

At this point, I decide, not much longer; and as he holds his hand out to me, I take it with minimal fear, smiling at him. The smile he gives me lights up the room, lifts my spirits and makes my pussy stir. Yup, he has a multi-faceted effect on me when he smiles.

He squeezes my hand and leads me into the firing squad. I don’t know what to expect. His father sounded pretty upset. I would hate to disappoint the Keyes, but we’re adults. As long as they don’t ask us how long it’s been going on, we’re fine.

The look on Mr. Keyes’ face is murderous, but as his eyes land on my face it softens a smidge. He had always treated me like a daughter, taking the place of my father whose main concern was that I made him look good. The shock of us being together must be the cause of his ire. I can see how us being together might be hard to swallow. Much like Delilah, I am his little girl.

“Mr. Keyes, we are so sorry,” I decide to strike first. “We didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did,” Marshall chimes in, squeezing my hand.

Mrs. Keyes is staring at us both, no doubt assessing the situation and drawing her own conclusions. A smile pulls at her lips and it’s at that moment that realization probably dawns on her. She sees the familiarity between us, possibly even the love. Honestly, the shit stinks on us worse than the sex.

“How long?” Mr. Keyes asks the dreaded question.

Before I even think to answer, Marshall answers, “A while, but we just now realized that we need to be together.”

It’s not quite a lie and it’s not quite the truth, but it seems to appease Mr. Keyes as he nods his head. “I think it was bound to happen sooner or later,” he admits, rubbing his temple and exhaling. “You guys always tiptoed around each other.”

“I guess it’s strange for us because we’ve always thought of you as a daughter, Rachel,” Mrs. Keyes voices.

“No need to treat her any different, Mom,” Marshall tells her, pulling me closer and wrapping an arm around me.

His parents take a seat in the black couch, where most of our clothes landed and I almost faint when I see my underwear perched on the back of it. Mrs. Keyes spots it and her eyes bug out before she bursts into laughter and plucks it up.

“This belong to you, dear?”

“Oh, my God, kill me now,” I groan, burying my face into Marshall’s chest.

The deep rumble of his laughter shakes me and heat creeps up my neck to my face.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” I grumble.

“No need to be ashamed, Rae,” Mrs. Keyes says. “You’re both grown.”

I look up at Marshall who’s smiling down at me and my heart swells with their acceptance. Years ago, our relationship existed in so much fear, such secrecy. It feels good to be able to be out in the open now. Marshall winks at me and I almost melt into a puddle at his feet. This man is mine again.

Oh, my God, he’s mine again!

I feel a happy panic coming on, but I tamp it down. My demons choose that moment to rear their ugly head, reminding me of my secret, reminding me that I am a murderer. How can we move forward with this secret looming over us? I am going to have to tell him at some point, before things get too serious between us. Right now we have a lot to work through before we can get back to the place we were before the baby came along. When I tell him, he might not even want to be with me anymore.

Us and the Keyes sit and talk for a long time about taking things slow so we can get to know each other outside of a brother/sister relationship. Marshall and I squeeze each other, not wanting to laugh about it. If they only knew…

We talk about Delilah and Ben and Mr. Keyes grills me on how serious they are. I can tell he’s nervous about their relationship. This is his little girl and she has been through more than anyone ever should. He’s very protective of her and I see him making things a little hard for Ben in the future.

We talk until it’s dinnertime, where we shower and dress and head out for dinner, meeting Ben at his brother’s beautiful garden restaurant.

Good food, good wine and great conversation makes for a night well spent, and when we finally get home, Marshall and I curl up together in my bed and have the best sleep we’ve ever had in two weeks.

When morning comes, neither Marshall nor I move a muscle. We lie facing each other, staring into eyes that mirror love, depth, lust, regret and apology. His warm hand caresses my face and my eyes flutter at contact. He has the power to enrage me and the power to tame me. He is my passion and he is my peace.

We’ve lost so much time together. I want to hear everything that I missed. He tells me about his graduation that I never went to, how he didn’t go out celebrating, just stayed home because he’d been missing me – this I knew thanks to Delilah. He tells me about landing his dream job and how it all felt empty because he wasn’t able to share his success with me. He tells me how everything he’s ever done since were with hopes that he’d get me back someday. Then he tells me the hard stuff.

He had only had one serious girlfriend since me and a few sexual partners. I didn’t expect him to be faithful as we weren’t together, neither did I expect him to be celibate, but it still stings to hear that other women got to have what I did. He goes on to tell me about Jenny, the currently
ex
-girlfriend, and I want to punch the bitch. He’d chosen someone the total opposite of me and it hurt when he tells me the reason why.

“I’d given up for a while there,” he confesses. “I didn’t think you’d ever change your mind about us, so I wanted to move on, wanted to put you out of my mind. So I chose someone who wouldn’t remind me of you in any way.”

How can I blame him? I was horrible to him and I kept leading him on by sleeping with him after the breakup. Any other man wouldn’t have stuck around trying for as long as he did, and I love him even more for it. He had faith in me, faith in us when I had none; when I was hiding behind my guilt and shame.

“Problem with that is,” he continues, “I could never get you out of my mind. You refused to be a distant memory. My heart wouldn’t let go of you, Rae.” He reaches out and places his palm over my heart, feeling the staccato rhythm it beats. He makes my heart skip a beat with every touch.

Tears well in my eyes, because the truth of the matter is, my heart never let go of him either. He needs to know that, but more importantly, he needs to know what happened all those years ago. It’s a risk I’m taking, but I want no secrets between us if we are going to forge ahead with our relationship.

“Marshall, I need to tell you–” His ringing cell phone breaks through our bubble and interrupts my revelation. A breath I wasn’t aware of holding releases in relief, but the weight of guilt still presses down on me.

Marshall reluctantly leaves the bed and picks his phone up off the nightstand. “It’s work,” he says. “I gotta take this.”

I smile and nod my okay. Marshall looks at me with his lawyer eyes, appraising me strangely. “Are you okay?” he asks, already sensing that I’m not.

My guilt screams at me and I feel like beating my head up against a wall to get the voices out.
Come clean!

“I’m fine, Marsh,” I lie reassuringly. “Go take your call, so I can tell you what I’ve been up to.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he declines. “I was being updated by Delilah all this time and, let’s just say, hearing about the guys you’ve been with the second time around is not quite appealing.”

“Oh, my God! Traitor! I can’t believe she told you about me!” I exclaim, laughing; my guilt easing a fraction.

“Yeah, hearing about Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike was not on the top of my favorite things to hear,” he jokes.

“Oh, my God! Those were not their names,” I deny, and then it hits me.

“There were not that many, asshole!” I laugh, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him.

Laughing, he launches at me and begins a tickling assault. I laugh so hard that tears stream down my face and I start snorting.

“Okay, I give, I give!” I concede.

“Say, I am the most awesome man in the world and I’ll stop,” he requests, still tickling me.

“Damn it, Marshall, your phone is still ringing!” I squirm trying to get away from him fruitlessly.

“Calls were made to be returned,” he answers nonchalantly.

“Okay, okay! You, Marshall Anthony Keyes, are the most awesome man in the world!” I gasp out between awful cackles. He stops immediately and I catch my breath.

“And you’re also the most thoughtful, most caring, most loving, most wonderful,” I add when the laughter subsides. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Marshall smiles and me sweetly before bringing his lips to mine and brushing against them. “Don’t you forget it,” he whispers, before jumping up, grabbing his phone and returning his law firm’s call.

He does the conference call right there in the room with me, stroking my hair as he talks to his client about things that I scarcely hear.

I am the luckiest woman alive.