"I leave tomorrow for New York. Drew and Tayla set the PR tour up and with my dad passing they had to rearrange some of the schedule. I will be home on and off for the next thirteen weeks.” Like aBand-Aidwas the motto of my life so I should have appreciated him getting to the point. I didn’t. This sucked ass, plain and simple.
"Tomorrow..." My voice cracked then trailed off. He was leaving and there hadn’t been enough time. I slid my body closer and curled into him, tears stinging my eyes.
"I'll make this up to you Sass I swear. The next three months and the last two years, I will make it up to you." He rolled to face me before pulling me to him and kissing the tip of my nose. My tears were falling on his chest and I wanted to be strong right now. I wanted to be Carrie and Candey and tell him I would miss him but be waiting. I was selfish and I knew it. I just got him back and I wasn’t ready to send him offtofangirlsagain.
"What time?”
"We leave at nine tomorrow night."
I sat up on my knees and looked at him. "Can’t you just ask for another week, a few days maybe? I just need a little more time Shame." I brought my hands to my mouth as my tears fell aware I was begging on my knees. Begging was something I swore I would never do, but this was Shame and there were no limits with him. I wanted to be strong and understanding, this was his job and....I had no answers, job or not I couldn’t stand him leaving again.
Shamus reached for my hand and pulled me to him. "Please baby, I can’t do this Sass, please don’t cry."
"I can’t not Shame." I said matter of fact, because the truth was I couldn’t stop. My heart was breaking and it was far worse than when he left me before. Before I could lie and say he did it because it wasn’t meant to be, but now? That logic was long gone and there were no lies, for comfort this time around. Rationally, I knew he had a career, but I was jealous and sad because I had just gotten him back and the world was taking him again.
Shamus rolled me onto my back and slid between my legs, comforting me the only way he could. He kissed me deeply and wiped my tears with his thumbs before sliding into me. Each thrust he kissed me and wiped my tears as I clawed at his back trying to keep him close. I looked at him above me, driving into me. "Please don’t go baby." I cried. He didn’t stop, he just kissed me deeper my heartache obvious.
"You're mine Sassy and that will never change." He spoke against my lips crushing me; driving home more proof of things I’ll miss once again.
I wanted to believe him, but the last time he left, he left one hell of a wake. There was no way I would hang on to him and cherish him like I did before. Maybe I had been too quick to forgive him. Maybe, my missing Jerry, and his return had made things easier, but this bullshit of trying to soften the blow by another long agonizing love session only made me hurt more.
He slowed his thrusts, till they were gentle and slow and I knew he was seeing me separate myself like oil and vinegar. I would take this for what it is and use the moment to memorize every inch of his body, the feel of him inside of me, the way my tears taste bitter when I think of him leaving again. He was all I wanted and I needed to remember him like this right now, above me.
I held him tighter, my heels digging into his back. "You're mine too.” I whispered against his neck, wishing I could take it all back, knowing when he was gone that the memory of him now would annihilate me.
It was that confession, that moment of doubt that changed everything.
You keep calling and complaining that I just don't care
But would you say that if I was there
It's that picture you keep painting
That's causing your tears
I could set you straight if you were here
Hinder
Chapter Eighteen
Cassa
“Hey babe.” I say and look at Shamus on the Skype screen. We video chat every night he is away. He is sitting in a chair in his hotel room in Dallas. They did a radio giveaway that morning and were heading to Washington the following morning. It was always hardest to video chat right before he was home because it left me longing for him even more.
I would never let him know that though. Since he left the first time, and every time thereafter I would prep myself for his never returning. I think he always had an idea of where my mind was, but he never said anything. I think he had the same internal struggle as I did only he was staying quiet and proving he was always coming back.
I knew this wasn’t rational or healthy for either of us. Where he was silently pleading for my forgiveness, I was pleading for his. I knew one day we would have to come clean with all our secrets. I needed to know why he left, what pushed him to it. He needed to know how ugly my marriage had been. It was why I didn’t push for answers because I knew the minute I did, he would push me for mine.
So every second we spent together was plagued by secrets above our heads like an ax ready to fall and sever everything in its path. It made it hard to reconnect with gloom like that hanging around.
“So how was the interview?” I ask. I’m in my bed in a tank top and leggings while I paint my nails.
“Same as all the others, just more fodder to pump the new album.” I look up to see his brows drawn as he looks at the screen. “What you doing babe?”
I lift one of the ten bottles of polish and show him.“Carrie put me on pink polish duty. I am finding the perfect shade of pink that will go with all the dresses so I’m painting each toe a different color.” I shrug and lift my foot toward the screen to show him my work. Doing this puts me in a position that would make any yoga instructor proud. An erotic groan from Shame makes me blush and drop my foot.
I feel foolish because I have no makeup on, I’m in my lounge clothes and my hair knotted in a messy bun on top of my head. I am not the picture of class or the girlfriend he usually finds sexy. “God babe, remember that position for tomorrow night. I could definitely get down with that only you naked.” He winks and bites his lip and I groan. Unlike me, he always looks like a fuckin’ model for sexy drummers everywhere. There he sits at a desk in a basic white t shirt and he has me aching for him. It's not fair.
