I almost growl, closing my eyes and fully surrendering to the fantasy. I imagine Bren riding me, hips rolling as he throws his head back. He cries out my name as he comes, spilling over the heated flesh of my stomach. I gasp, releasing under the water, my body shuddering to the rhythm of, Bren, Bren, Bren.
Bren, the man who had invented an excuse to come and see me. To check on my wellbeing. Bren, who hadn’t pulled away when I touched his hand, but instead, held onto it. The tension pulled tight between us, the touch of his skin sparking flames up my arm. Oh, how I had longed to surge forward and capture his lips with mine.
As I come down from the high of my orgasm, my thoughts turn to Bren’s rejection. The words had stung, for sure, but I knew why he’d said them, and I knew they were intended to end my pursuit. I’ve gotta give it to him, he sure is putting up a good fight. But the tide has turned, the ocean an unstoppable force beyond us both. Bren rightfully belongs to me, as I do him. And, this time, when he finally comes home, I’m never letting him go.
Bren had come to me. He’d allowed himself to be held, to have a kiss pressed to that sweet spot just below his earlobe. I’d felt his temperature rise, heat radiating off his pleading body while his hands clutched achingly around my waist. Yesterday told me everything I need to know.
As I dry myself off, I come to the decision that I can’t wait any longer. Tomorrow I’ll chance another trip to Beautiful Bathrooms and this time, I’ll be honest. No moreI-just-want-to-be-friendsbullshit. Bren will know my honest intentions and what is truly in my heart.
While I wait in my car for the last employee to head home, I call my brother and sisters. They don’t pick up—of course—but I leave voicemails in the hope they’ll listen and get back to me. I text Lu about dinner, and then James, to say I’ve gone out for a drink with my mate, Jordan.
I know I promised myself only a week ago that I wouldn’t do this again, but somehow this feels different.Ifeel different. My intentions are clear and now I have proofBren still cares for me, even if it’s buried down deep.
Stepping into his office at sunset, there’s no reaction from him. Instead, he calmly looks up from his laptop, as if he expected me. When he speaks, he sounds defeated.
“Kyle, it was wrong of me to visit you on Wednesday. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fight you on this.”
“I know, Bren. But can you please just hear me out? Then if you still don’t want me in your life, I’ll go. I’m not bullshitting like last time.”
Bren stands and walks around his desk, stopping in front of me, close enough that I can see the tiny speckles of amber in his eyes.
“Fine. Say what you gotta say.”
My legs shake and my palms are so clammy I’m tempted to wipe them on my jeans. I should’ve done this years ago. I should’ve told Bren how much I love him, how I always have and always will. “Bren, the truth is, I still want you,” I begin.
His eyes drop to the floor, but I push on. “I know it’s wrong for me to say that when you’re married, and I shouldn’t have been coming here or showing up at your house, but I…” I swallow hard, my throat tightening. “Bren, you must know how I felt about you when we were boys and Istill—”
“Kyle, stop!” he demands, cutting me off. “Don’t say another fuckin’ word. You’re in love with a memory. Nothin’ but a ghost from the past.” Bren steps back, putting distance between us.
“You’re wrong. You’re so wrong,” I say. “Not a single day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you.”
Hurt briefly passes over Bren’s face but is quickly replaced with anger. “Kyle, this has gotta stop. You can’t keep comin’ around here. You’re actin’ like a bored housewife. What happened to you? You used to have dreams and aspirations and all this energy.”
With Bren’s words, hope drains from my body. There’s stillness for a beat, then it’s replaced with violent, blood-curdling screams inside my head. Screams that feel like my brain is a mirror fracturing into a million pieces.
What happened to me? Fucking bipolar is what happened. It ruined my life. It fucking ruined us!
I need out. I’m suffocating. Drowning in fury and grief and endless regret. “Fuck you, Brendan!” I spit out, hatred filling the marrow of my bones.
Then I’m walking. Running. I need to get out of here. Far, far away.
Getting the car unlocked seems impossible, tears blurring my vision into a kaleidoscope of bleeding colour.
“Kyle!” Bren screams, and I turn to see him striding toward me from across the lot. “I’m sorry. Ky, stop. Please! I shouldn’t have said that.”
I fling the car door open, desperate to get away, but then he’s there beside me. I bat away the tears from my face, furious and devastated. “You know what, Brendan? Ididhave dreams once upon a time. I wanted to be a doctor if you remember. Then you said you were gonna marry Tiffany and start a family with her.”
He flinches at my words, but I’m not finished yet. “I had no choice but to leave. I couldn’t stay there and watch you play happy family with her. I couldn’t live knowing she got to sleep next to you and I didn’t.”
“Kyle, I never wanted you to go. It wasyourchoice to leave.”
“Fuck you! You knew how I felt about you.” I slump back against my car, the fight draining away. “You broke me, Bren. Something snapped inside my head.”
Bren points at me, his chest heaving. “Don’t you fuckin’ blame me for your mental illness. That shit’s not on me!”
“Don’t be so goddamn naïve,” I spit back, pushing myself off the car and crowding him. “Take some blame for what you put me through.” I shove Bren hard in the chest and he stumbles backwards. “If I hadn’t fallen for you, my life might have been fucking different. I might have been happy.” I take a shuddering gasping breath, then yell, “Sometimes I wish I never laid fucking eyes on you, Brendan Young!”
He comes at me so fast I have no time to react—there’s just an explosion of pain as his fist connects with my face. But I only feel relief. Because all I want is for Bren to feel something,anything, forme. Even hatred is better than nothing.
