I reach for her without even thinking. She shoves me away once, hard, before her hand quickly fists my shirt like she wants to hurt me and hold me all at once. “You don’t get to do this to me,” she cries, hitting my chest with both palms. “You don’t get to do this to you. You don’t get to leave me here with all this pain, and pretend you’re fine—”
I grab her wrists, a risky move, restraining her before she can pull away again, and pin them above her hard as her back hits the hallway wall. “It’s not fair that this happened to us… that after everything we lose even more.” The words feel like a dagger to my heart, each soft whimper making the knife twist and inch deeper. “Why? Why did it happen? Why couldn’t I…”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
She scoffs. “I wanted to end the pregnancy and look.”
“No, Ronnie… You don’t get to blame yourself. No.” I pin my body against her. “None of this is your fault.” Her breath stutters, tension snapping taut between us before she rips away from my grasp and pulls me into a kiss. It tastes like anger, fear, and fuckingneed.
It always does now.
Ronnie’s unique blend of lust and trauma response, according to my research. Still knowing all of it, I give in. It’s become a drug that soothes the pain for just a moment. I press her harder into the wall, giving her exactly what she’s looking for.Release. Her nails dig into my neck the moment I deepen our kiss, our tongues battling for dominance. Teeth clashing, nipping at our lips. Demanding more. Always more.
“Don’t lie to me again,” she whispers into my mouth, but I stay quiet. That's a promise I can’t keep and will break again. Ronnie drags me towards the spot where my bed is in my studio apartment, desperate fingers tugging at my shirt. We’re barely past the kitchen counter before she’s pushed me onto the bed and climbed into my lap with shaky thighs. I squeeze them tightly, making her gasp and grind down into me.
“Make it stop,” she begs, breathing hot against my ear before she nips at the spot. The sting is quickly replaced by the flick of her tongue as she kisses her way down my neck. “Just make everything stop.”
And I do.
I flip her beneath me, pull down her black skirt, while she removes her pink top, exposing her perky tits. My cock twitches in my pants, demanding to be inside her. To fuck her until she can’t speak… can't feel anything but me. My head falls to her inner thigh, breathing her in. Through heavy lids, I look up at her, just as her hand moves to my cheek, her thumb caressing the stubble growing. While we think of each other as medicine, it’s become the opposite. We’re each other's poison. Something so pure has become irrevocably tainted by pain. “Please,” she begs, her body writhing for attention. I hate what her words do to me. The need for her begging flares through me.
“Use words, Ronnie. Tell me, what do you need?”
“You…” she stutters, red staining her cheeks, making it look like blush on her golden skin. “I need you.”
My lips kiss a trail of wet kisses inside her inner thigh, my free hand works my cock from out of my pants as my tongue flattens out on her already wet pussy. She moans loudly, resting her cold feet on my heated back as her head falls back. “Iz,” she calls out when my tongue circles that sensitive bud, with slow and deliberate circles. My free hand matches the movement, stroking my cock slowly with each flick of my tongue. She tastes divine. Like damnation and salvation wrapped in everything I want. I groan into her pussy, licking up the mess she makes, before pushing the tip of my tongue inside, feeling her walls flutter for me. Her soft hand moves to my hair, holding me in place as she rides my face. Suffocating me. Drowning me in her pleasure.
It’s not gentle the way I devour her. It’s not soft anymore. It’sanimalistic. It’s feral. Pushing her legs up towards her stomach, she tries to shove me away. “Too much,” she mewls, but I don’t stop. My tongue continues its rhythm before flattening out and softly sucking the sensitive bud into my mouth. Precum coatsthe head of my cock, so needy to fill her up with me, and that need pauses me—pulling me out of the high.
“Iz… I need you,” she moans, playing with her tits, making sure to look me in the eyes to anchor me with her. “Stay with me, I’m here.”
We need help. I know this. But fuck, she’s so beautiful when she begs and gives in. My hand trails up her pebbled skin, making sure not to focus on the spot that remains flat and not swollen with our light. That part of her I avoid, even if it pains her, even if itkillsme. I rise to my feet, kicking her legs apart with my thighs before I line up to her entrance. I feel her warm and wet mouth engulf the head of my cock. Causing my breath, all words, all fucking thoughts to leave me.
I look down at her as she swirls her tongue around the tip and takes me deeper. Soothing my mind, before the animal takes control and fucks her throat in the way she’s begging for me to do. It was a juxtaposition of emotions. One I shouldn't welcome. After all, it’s just another way to self-harm, but I bleed alongside her with each quick piston of my hips. My balls draw tight, molten lava gathering in my core before I pull her away. “On your stomach, ass up,” I say through gritted teeth, and she does. I thrust into her so hard her breath hitches in her lungs. Still, she moans for me, sharp, broken, and raw as she rocks into me like she’s chasing away her demons with each inch she takes of my dick.
It’s not soft or gentle.
It’s two people trying to outrun grief with skin, sweat, and desperation. She comes undone for me so beautifully, the sound muffled by the sheets. I follow her with a groan that scrapes straight from the deepest part of my chest, pulling out of her and releasing onto her back. A sigh of disappointment escapes her lips. She tries to hide it, but I walk away before I can sulk in the guilt. Even if it’s safe to do so now, I couldn’t allow myself. Or more like my body wouldn’t allow me to finish inside her. I couldn’t bear to witness her break the way she did that night, or the way my heart tore into pieces when the doctors confirmed she was no longer pregnant. As if everything we endured wasn’t enough punishment, the universe seems to punish us further.Fuck me!
She collapses in the bed, while I walk over to grab a wet rag for her. The flicker of the lighter booms through the silence, followed by the familiar scent of weed and sex. Ronnie lies on her stomach, her head resting on her arm as she inhales a deep lungful of smoke. Walking over towards her, I clean her up in silence while she ponders on something I’m too afraid to know.
“Imma go shower,” I mutter when she passes me the joint. “I’ll join you in a few.”
Ronnie smiles and resumes her thinking while I shuffle back to the bathroom and shower. After a quick rinse and a few emotional punches to the gut, I step back out and find her sleeping. The joint was put out and discarded on the ground. A small smile tugs at my lips, along with the relief that she stuck around and didn’t just leave like she tends to. Pulling the blue comforter over her naked body, I can’t help but stare at her beautiful features. She looks exhausted, wrung out, and I hate it.
Even in her sleep, she has no peace. Her face twists, eyebrows pinching together before a soft whimper leaves her lips. Quietly, I brush the tears from her cheek with my thumb, and it kills me that she doesn’t even stir. For a moment, I lose myself counting the beauty marks on her face, all ten of them, before I pull away and pick up the joint lying on the ground. Noticing her bag has fallen over on the floor, its contents spilling from it.
Quickly, I begin to pick up the discarded items, when I pick up a folded letter with a hospital logo at the top and beneath it, the bold and unmistakable words:
My heart stops, my lungs seize, and my gaze moves towards her sleeping form. Anger begins to stir. After all this, I’m not the only one keeping secrets, but just as quickly as it arrives, it leaves. Replaced solely by defeat. She’s leaving, or at least thinking about it, without considering me.
And the worst part?I don’t blame her. But god, it feels like someone slid a knife under my ribs and twisted it. And itfuckinghurts. Placing the letter back into her bag, I decide tonight to hold her tighter, even if I know the truth. Even as she slips through my fingers, because no matter what, I know I’ll lose whatever is left of her when she learns the truth I’ve been keeping from her.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Veronica
Days later…..
