Somehow, it doesn’t land the way it always used to. The effect it has on me isn’t there. All I can think about is how many men she gives that same smile to. Is that part of the reason sheadvanced so far up the corporate ladder considering she’s only a paralegal, not a lawyer?
She reaches out to touch me, her hands sliding up my biceps. She takes a step forward, clearly expecting me to back up and bring us into the house. The smirk falls when my feet stay firmly planted where they are, both of us shocked her smile and touch haven’t done me in yet.
Hell, I didn’t expect my conviction to hold once she touched me. I seem to want to end the suffering more than I thought. Or maybe it’s Bernie’s voice in my mind asking me why I let Chanel treat me like shit.
Her touch burns like it always has, but it doesn’t weaken my resolve. Instead, it makes me see images of her making love to Dorian. What she had to do to make up for cheating on him. Doing things she won’t do with me. Probably faking it for him to make him feel like a man.
And the burn turns to ice when I imagine her in a wedding dress. She walks down the aisle holding flowers. Walking toward Dorian, not me.
“We can’t keep doing this, Chanel,” I say. “Not forever.”
Yep, the words surprise me as much as they do her, but she’s the one who steps back to glare at me. Never in my life have I turned her down before. But why would I let her break my heart every time she comes around when I’d give her my entire fucking world?
“Well, not with that attitude, we can’t.”
The way she jokes about the situation cuts deeper than I anticipated. Does she really not care how much this situation between us kills me? How hard it is to watch her walk away after giving me the smallest amount of breadcrumbs?
“Dorian still can’t give you what you need, can he? Is that why you’re standing on my porch right now?” I ask.
“That’s not… You can’t compare the two of you.”
“Try. Does he make your toes curl? Do you crave his touch? Every part of his body on every part of yours? Have you let him take that ass like you’ve let me?”
“Stop it.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Hey, you showed up onmyporch, not the other way around. I’m trying to figure out why he’s the one you’re planning to chain yourself to for the rest of your life if you still come darkening my doorway. What do you get from me that you can’t from him?”
“It’s just… different, okay?”
“If he fucked you like I do, you’d never drive to my house again. It’s okay. You can admit it.”
Her green eyes shine with unshed tears, and even two weeks ago, that look alone would have had me backtracking. Apologizing for being so harsh. I would’ve buckled and given in to whatever she wanted, but not today. Not now. Not after I’ve actually taken the time to evaluate and see just how fucked up this situation I saw as a relationship really is.
“I still love you,” she admits, her voice low. “Yes, the sex is incredible, but it’s not just the sex.”
“Then why is that all you’re willing to give me?”
“Because our lives don’t align.”
I’m dirt, and she’s gold. I get it. In a way, I think I’ve always known. That she likes to roll around in the mud, but she doesn’t want to be seen by others as dirty. That’s what I make her.
“You have a decision to make. Now. Right here.”
“Zep—”
“Choose.”
Chanel’s eyes shoot to the ground, and I know. Deep down, I’ve always known. It’s why I’ve never had the courage to say the words before, and it hurts the way I expected.
The pain of knowing I’m nothing but a cheap thrill to scratch an itch her soon-to-be husband can’t quite reach hurts more than a bullet. With a bullet, you know you’ll either die or heal. It’ll be over eventually. This doesn’t have that same guarantee.
“Please don’t make me say it,” she whispers.
“I think you just did. That’s it, Chanel. We’re done.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, her lip trembling as the tears finally fall. “No, we’re not done. Our story isn’t over yet.”
“Babe, you chose Dorian. Just because you can’t say the words doesn’t change the facts. Dorian is the man you’re going to spend your life with, and that means you have to stop coming over here to spend a night or two a month in my bed.”
