With passion. With anger. With regret.
With something that felt a lot like love.
His fingers tangled in my hair. My hands slid up his shirt. I pressed my palms against fevered skin, hating, yet loving the texture of his familiar scars, rough and rigid.
I could feel his ribs. Each one prominent. Too prominent.
But I was holding Yossarian Frazier.
The love of my young life.
Possibly the love of mywholelife.
He pulled away and framed my face with his hands. Our noses brushed against each other. Breath mingling. Souls clashing.
“Imi,” he said my name again. Softer. Quieter. He sucked in air, as if he were drowning. He closed his eyes, bracing himself.
“I—”
He never finished his thought.
The doorbell rang.
It echoed through the house, startling us both. I let out a noisy sigh and Yoss opened his eyes, running his thumb along the curve of my lips. “I think you’d better get that,” he said as the bell chimed again.
Whoever it was, clearly wasn’t very patient. I ran a hand through my hair.
“Okay. I’ll just be a minute. It’s probably an encyclopedia salesman or something.”
Yoss raised an eyebrow. “Is that even still a thing?”
The doorbell chimed again and I bared my teeth. “They better hope they’re selling something good.” Yoss laughed and I hurried from the room.
I pulled open the front door in a huff of frustration, a frown on my face.
And froze.
“Sorry to come by so late,” Chris said, not looking the least bit apologetic.
Chris O’Neil.
My ex-husband.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling the deadened weight of his presence press down on me.
I glanced over my shoulder; relieved Yoss had remained in the spare bedroom.
Chris walked past me and into the house, clearly still feeling as if he belonged there. How wrong he was.
“I tried calling you a few times but you didn’t answer,” Chris said by way of explanation for his unwanted presence.
I didn’t feel particularly antagonistic towards my former husband. Even with his pushiness and demanding personality, I could only ever feel guilt.
Because the situation we found ourselves in was mostly my fault.
I should never have married him in to begin with.
Chris had been a placeholder in my life.
