Текст книги "Torn"
Автор книги: Kim Karr
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter 22
Six Degrees of Separation
Almost two hours later, I find myself heading north on the 101 and have no idea where I’m going or how I got here. All I know is that when the shock and anger consumed me, I had to get away. But now the numbness subsides, and pain takes over.
Completely exhausted, I get off the Santa Barbara exit and pull into a gas station to ask directions to the nearest hotel. The clerk tells me if I’m looking for a nice place, the Four Seasons is due west. I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I follow his directions. Within fifteen minutes I’m pulling into the hotel. It looks more like a Mediterranean getaway than a place to be alone and not think about anything. But at this point I’m so tired, I don’t really care where I stay.
Walking into the lobby, I immediately notice its grandeur. I go to check in without any luggage and the front desk assistant tells me they only have Premier rooms available. I hand her my credit card and tell her that’s fine. When she asks me how many nights, all I can tell her is that I don’t know. She smiles at me and says they can’t guarantee availability any night other than tonight if I don’t commit, so I tell her a week. She smiles and hands me a room key, asking if the valet can get my luggage. I just tell her I’m good but she still asks the doorman to show me to the elevator. He does so and pushes my floor number before sending me up to my room.
Opening the door, I head straight for the phone. The anger has been building inside me and I have to tell that son of a bitch what a fucking asshole he is. When I dial the number I haven’t dialed in so long, my fingers are trembling.
“Hello?” he answers.
“You fucking son of a bitch. How could you lie to me for all those years?”
“Dahl, calm down. What are you talking about?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, you asshole. You cheated on me and said you didn’t. How could you?”
“Dahl, it was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! A mistake is forgetting to pay the mortgage. You screwed someone else.”
“I’m sorry, Dahl. Let me explain.”
“No Ben, not this time I won’t. No more. I wish you never came back—then I wouldn’t have had to know what we really were—nothing. You’ve only caused me more pain. Your death put me through hell, and just when I’m about to start my life over—you come back to hurt me some more? I wish you would have kept playing dead!”
“Please Dahl, just come over. We can talk.”
“Fuck you, Ben. I don’t ever want to talk to you again,” I scream and hang up.
After I slam the phone down, I try to calm down. I call room service and order a pot of coffee. I hope my queasy stomach can handle it. I move to the glass doors and close the wall of curtains. I briefly take notice of the beaches and mountains out the window before pulling the drapes closed and shiver as a sudden chill goes through me. I stop and scrutinize my own reflection in the glass. How was I so naive? I saw the e-mail! How clichéd were his attempts to get me back?—and I fell for him then, never questioning his fidelity. I try to look into my own eyes, but see nothing but that young girl.
There’s a knocking on the door and I hear, “Room service.” I wonder how long I’ve been standing here evaluating the merits of my stupidity. I close the curtains, open the door, and take the tray over to the fireplace. I sit in the large overstuffed chair and inhale the fresh coffee bean aroma wafting from my cup. Looking at the tray, I notice the sugar bowl. I take a deep breath and wonder if I should have ordered tea instead because all my thoughts suddenly drift to River. Would he do the same thing to me? Is he doing the same thing to me?
I can feel my heart beating faster than it should. I drop my spoon on the floor and when I bend down to pick it up, I start to cry when I see my boots—the boots River loves to see me in. I unzip them and toss them to the ground. Then I remember them hitting the floor at Smitten’s and my stomach falls. What we have is different than what Ben and I had. I know it is. And I also know he would never do to me what Ben did.
I think about him asking me the first time we had coffee together if I used sugar, and every day since then making sure I always got my morning coffee—until this morning, and yesterday morning. I miss him and suddenly wonder if I should have just gone home.
As my thoughts continue to bounce all over the place, I try to focus on everything Bell told me. After a while it all comes together in an easy-to-understand picture. She was in an accident the night I met River. I left the bar early that night, fearful of what would happen with River if I stayed. Bell was going to tell Ben about the baby that same night. Bell and Ben were supposed to meet that night. And Xander fits into the picture somehow as well. As one of Ben’s frat brothers, he knew Ben had a girlfriend. But I never talked about Ben to River’s family or friends.
It all makes sense now—I went back early so Ben couldn’t leave the party. Bell didn’t know this and got in that car so eager to tell him she was pregnant. River came to the frat house later that night to look for Bell because obviously she had been hanging out there. And since I hardly ever went to the parties, Ben knew I’d never find out.
As I sip the last of my coffee, the chills seem to subside. I mentally start building what-if scenarios. I start thinking about what path all of our lives would have taken if I had stayed that night and talked to River. Would he have brought Bell home if he didn’t have to look for me? Would Bell have met up with Ben and would they be raising a child together? Would I have broken up with Ben and chosen River? Would Ben have not taken the L.A. Times job and gone to grad school instead? He took that job so he could buy us a house. If he never worked for The L.A. Times, would he have taken on that story? Without that story he never would have had to die. Would we all have had our happily ever after’s?
My head is spinning, so I lie down on the bed and pull the comforter up, thinking I will just lie down for an hour and then . . . Exhaustion takes hold and my mind finally finds peace as I fade away into sleep.
Chapter 23
The Change
Ben’s Journal
Today wasn’t just another shitty day in a long list of shitty days; it was probably the shittiest day yet. I spent hours on the phone yesterday trying to secure a place for Trent in a facility. One finally called back last night, but I needed to check it out before sending him there. I could have called Caleb to come over and stay with Trent, but I really needed to see her again so I called Dahl. That was my first mistake of the whole fucking day.
When she got to the house in record time, of course I thought she really wanted to see me. Maybe she’d thought about yesterday and decided she missed me like I missed her. I was so sure spending time together would evoke those feelings. Fuck was I wrong. She not only rejected me but when I tried to pull her to me like I used to, she acted like I repulsed her.
For some reason I couldn’t let her see that she got to me. Why? I wanted to explain my feelings, but, fuck, I’ve never been able to do that and even when it probably mattered the most I still couldn’t. So instead I hightailed it out the door. When I got back she seemed even sadder than when she got here. I tried to talk to her, to comfort her, but she squashed my attempts once again. I’m seriously starting to wonder what kind of hold this guy has over her because when she left today, I got the feeling she wasn’t coming back.
The day didn’t get any fucking better when my sister showed up a few minutes later. She talked to her dirtbag ex-husband and he told her Trent was here. I had to explain everything to her but I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with her shit. She did agree to send Trent to rehab tomorrow. She stormed out pissed and said she’d be back to stay the night. She wanted to tell Mom in person.
Then as if the day wasn’t already bad enough, the phone call came. The one I knew would come eventually after seeing S’belle at Dahlia’s house. I hoped Dahl wouldn’t find out. I tried to tell her yesterday to soften the blow, but just couldn’t do it. Of course the college chick had to be the dick’s sister. They look so much alike, no wonder I felt like I knew him. Fuck me.
That call ended any chance I had to get my Dahl back and now I’m left here wondering why the fuck I ever came back.
Chapter 24
Beneath Your Beautiful
I wake up and look at the clock; it’s 5:45 a.m. Shit, I’ve been asleep for more than twelve hours. For the first time in my life, I don’t like being in the dark. I quickly get up and open the curtains, letting the faint light of dawn into my room. I turn the fireplace back on and get under the thick mass of blankets, once again feeling chilled to the bone. I grab the hotel phone and decide I should at least tell Aerie where I am. But when she doesn’t answer, I leave her a message. I don’t call River—we need to talk in person.
Blasting the radio of the hotel alarm clock, I lie there and just listen to whatever songs come on. Music tells so many stories. It’s a world within itself. It calms me. Speaks to me. Gives me the guidance I sometimes need. So as I listen to “Clarity,” I close my eyes and think about everything again. I think about it as a story that accompanies the words to the song. And when I do this, really listen and visualize myself as part of the song, everything seems clearer than it did yesterday. Taking a series of deep breaths, I feel a little better.
I doze off, and when I wake up again it’s 7:15 a.m. I actually fell asleep with the light coming in the room. I’ve never done that before. “Broken” is playing when I wake up again and I say out loud, “I’m not broken.” Because I’m not. I know I’m not. What Ben did is unforgivable but he hasn’t been my future for a long time. I can’t let his infidelity change what’s right in front of me.
As the song ends and a new one begins I don’t even hear the words, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, and think about River and me—our fights, our love, our life—I have to believe everything will be okay. His reluctance to tell me anything about Bell and her accident was done out of love, not deceit, and I not only accept this, I understand it. I can trust him—I do trust him. He didn’t want to tell me that Ben had betrayed me. He didn’t want to hurt me in that way. It would have been so easy for him to turn me against Ben from the day he figured out who Ben was, but his love for me stopped him. After everything, I still believe we will be okay. My only question: Has he forgiven me? I quickly jump out of bed—I need to get back to LA.
I’m sitting down to put my boots on when I hear the song “Sexy Back” playing outside my room. I stop what I’m doing and wonder if I’m imagining it. But when I hear a knock on the door, I know what it means. I drop my boots to the floor and run over to open the door without even looking through the peephole to see who it is, because I know. I have to grip the knob for support to keep my knees from buckling beneath me. I draw in a slow silent breath of relief because there he stands, leaning against the doorframe with his head down.
He looks up and his eyes are sparkling as he hands me my phone. “I did promise to always call,” he says and his words make my stomach flutter. I reach for the phone. My breathing stops as I take him in. He’s breathtaking. He’s long, lean, and so alarmingly good-looking that I can’t look away. It’s not because of how attractive he is, though—it’s because of his eyes. They tell me everything I need to know. This is the man I love. The man who loves me. The man I will be with forever. I feel like I’m being transported through time, back to the night I first met him. He’s wearing his Foreigner double– vision T-shirt and black beanie, his light brown hair sticking out underneath it. His guitar is strapped over his shoulder and he sets it down inside the room as he places his phone to his ear. Justin Timberlake’s song is still playing on my phone. “And you promised to always answer.”
I’m standing so close to him, but not near enough. I’m trembling as a sense of utter euphoria pulses through me. He came for me, he really came for me. Gripping the phone, I step closer to him and smile, “No, I promised to never hang up.”
He, too, steps closer and we are now standing toe-to-toe. “You have to answer in order to not hang up so technically you promised to always answer.”
I smile at him as he takes the phone from my hand and hits the END button. He does the same to his and tosses both phones inside the room. He removes his beanie, tossing that as well, and then combs his hands through his hair. Our eyes connect and it feels like minutes pass, but it’s only seconds. That electric pull is still there, stronger than ever.
“I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker. Aerie told me where you were.”
I bite my lip nervously and gaze into his gleaming green eyes. “No, you’re definitely not a stalker.”
He smiles, not a full smile, but that half-grin I love so much because it emphasizes his dimples. His lush lips are begging for me to kiss him and I don’t want to waste another minute as I throw my arms around his neck and crash my mouth to his. He puts one hand behind my neck and the other on the small of my back. We both open our mouths wide as our lips connect, and I feel the connection between our souls. This kiss leaves me breathless.
He slowly pulls back and grabs my cheeks with the palms of his hands softly rubbing my skin. “I love you more.”
“And I will love you more forever,” I say back because it’s the absolute truth.
He leans in and this time he softly puts his lips to mine, never taking his hands off my face. I can feel tears of joy streaming down my face.
After we finally come up for air, he lifts me in his arms, and then carries me to the bed. He sits down with me in his lap and I curl my legs around him. Kissing my head repeatedly, he tries to ease my sobs, but they won’t stop. I start to settle as he lightly rocks me. When his hands softly rub my back, I touch my head to his. I can feel his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls. It is the most beautiful feeling in the world.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He blows out a long breath, “No, Dahlia. I’m the one that’s sorry. We should talk. We need to talk.”
I know that’s what we need but seeing him now, being in his arms when I wasn’t sure I ever would be again, I don’t want to talk. I just want to be with him. I feel the last of the walls come down between us as we sit here wrapped in each other’s arms and all that is left is pure emotion, true love. I rest my head against his chest again and this time inhale his scent, having missed it, and relish being so close to him.
I look up at him and with a shaky breath I tell him, “We will. Just not yet. Please. I don’t want to talk about what a mess we made out of everything right now.”
“Okay baby, okay. But a beautiful thing is never perfect,” he whispers as he kisses the top of my head and clings to me as tightly as I cling to him.
Slipping my hands under his T-shirt, I trace the perfectly sculpted lines that outline each lean muscle. I feel his heart pounding above his ribs. When my tears keep falling, he continues to rock me. Then he puts his mouth to my ear and with a low, husky voice starts singing a song I’ve never heard before. It makes my skin tingle. I peek up at him and through muffled sobs ask, “What are you singing?”
“A song I wrote for you. It’s called ‘Never in Pieces.’”
He continues to sing and I sit here listening to his beautiful words. His voice wraps around me, bringing the comfort I know only from him—the amazing man singing to me. The words of the song push into me, making my heart expand with every word. He sings about never knowing what love was until he found me. His velvety voice sings in my ear with such intensity that I feel like I’m touching his soul with every lyric. I look at him and his eyes close as he sings about our relationship never being in pieces because nothing can break us. I absorb every single verse as my heart pounds and desire sweeps through me. I’ve never felt such an intimate connection to him. When he finishes I know exactly how he feels and I feel the same way. Nipping at his jaw, I press myself into him, then I tip his chin back and look into his tranquil green eyes. “River, make love to me.”
He looks at me with his intense bedroom eyes and doesn’t hesitate in saying, “There’s nothing I want to do more right now than to touch you and taste you.”
I feel him instantly harden beneath me as he reaches and pulls my T-shirt off. I pull his off in turn. His mouth is on mine, his tongue finding its way into mine and I’m hoping to leave a little bit of myself inside of him.
As I sit on his lap enjoying every kiss, every lick, every touch, every breath we share, I know I will never take moments like these for granted. After a few minutes he lifts me off the bed, turns us around and sets me on my feet. Kneeling in front of me, he undoes my button, pulls my jeans down, and I step out of them. Our eyes stay connected every second. When he very slowly slides my panties off, I kick them aside. He guides me to sit on the edge of the bed and places each of my legs over his shoulders and starts kissing the inside of my thighs. My body tightens with anticipation.
His eyes are still on mine. He runs his fingertips up and down the backs of my thighs and places his hands behind me, pulling me into him. His tongue is on me, but he’s taking it slow this time. His face is in between my legs, right at my center. He starts by placing small kisses up and down my slick flesh. Then his fingers open me and his tongue strokes and licks perfectly. When he peeks up at me as I watch him he says, “Dahlia, I need to taste every inch of you.” I lift myself against his mouth, urging him to move faster, and he does. Then his hands are on my hips, keeping me firmly in place as he plunges his tongue inside me over and over. I start convulsing; the feeling is so unbelievably euphoric. My body trembles. “Oh God, River,” I call out, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking me even through my orgasm, pushing me further. Gripping my hips tightly he licks, kisses, and laps every inch of me. I don’t even feel like my body is my own when another wave blasts through me. “Yes, oh God yes,” I scream and when I know I have nothing left, I gently push his shoulders back. He looks up at me and I drop to the ground to sit in front of him.
I kiss him and he smiles through our kiss. “I wasn’t finished. I wanted to hear you scream my name again.”
“Oh you will, I promise.” I unbutton his pants and run my hand inside his boxers, just needing to feel him. He stands up and pulls me with him. I love the way it feels to be in his arms. Setting me on the bed, he quickly removes his boots, pants, and boxers and stands there looking so incredible—his taut muscles on full display. He takes my hand. “Dahlia, can I make love to you now?” he asks and I melt. Every move, every motion is done with an almost unbearable slowness.
I nod my head and pull him to me on the bed. But I want to feel every inch of him so I roll us over and hover over him. He groans and pulls me down to him. He traces his tongue around the shell of my ear and then whispers all the things he wants to do to me. Dragging my tongue down his neck, his chest, I take him in my hands, gently stroking him and he groans even louder. Placing a knee on either side of his legs, I glide my lips down his stomach. My hands continue to move up and down his length and when my lips meet his tip, he shudders. I lose myself in the moment. This is the intimacy that I’ve missed. But when my mouth covers him, he pulls me back up to him.
I lie against him, pressing my naked body into his, and look at him. “Why’d you stop me?”
He lets out a sigh and groans, “I want to be inside you when I come.”
I move my mouth to his ear so I can whisper, “You can be.”
“No Dahlia, I won’t be if you do that.”
He molds my breasts with his palms and whispers things in my ear in that hot, raspy tone that makes me ache for him. Moving my hips he pulls me on top of him and he’s right where I need him to be. Elation sweeps through me as he easily slips in. His hands move to my backside, pressing me into him. When I fold my knees beneath myself and sit up, he lets out a long groan. But when I try to control the pace by interlocking my fingers with his on either side of his head, he grins and shakes his head.
He leaves our hands there for a few moments and I rock into him over and over, rolling my hips. Before long, his hands are on my hips. But I got this. Leaning back, I rest my palms on his knees and move slowly, rising up just far enough so we both feel the thrill of him sliding back inside. With every passing moment, I sink faster and deeper but stay closer. My pulse pounds with excitement. Before I know it, he’s clutching my legs, focusing on my every move. Our eyes meet and we are hypnotized by each other’s expressions of pure pleasure. When I reach down between us and alternate stroking and squeezing whatever flesh I can get my hands on, he groans and curses so loud I lose myself.
Continuing with this rapid pace, I feel nothing but complete bliss. The pressure builds swiftly and I am quickly on the brink of climaxing again. It’s heavenly. He pulls me to him and seals his lips to mine, thrusting his hips up. Breathing heavily, I know he’s close. He rolls us over, never breaking our connection. Pulling my hands over my head, he takes control and it’s perfect.
I watch as his body flexes rhythmically with mine. He moves faster, kissing me furiously. I’m pushed over the edge the second his tongue hits the roof of my mouth. “Oh God yes, River yes,” I scream once again and he stills, shouting my name as my waves of ecstasy bring on his own climax.
When we are both spent, we fall into each other’s arms and cuddle close together. “I love you, River,” I say and I’m going to tell him this over and over again.
“I love you, Dahlia, I love every single thing about you. You’re perfect, really.” I can’t contain my smile. I haven’t heard him say that in so long and hearing the familiar words sends shivers up my spine.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
He smiles at me. “Tu m’as manqué.”
I look at him questioningly. I know he’s speaking French, but have no idea what he just said.
Tracing his finger around my lips he says, “Brigitte told me once that in France they don’t say I missed you, they say you were missing from me, and you were.”
I have to compose myself before placing a soft kiss on his lips and nuzzling his nose. That is the perfect way to say it. It’s how I have felt, too—like he was missing from me.
As I settle back in his arms, I think about how when we were together, there was no need for instant gratification because there were no doubts between us. We both knew we had the rest of our lives together. I kiss him again and close my eyes, laying my head on his chest. He strokes his fingers up and down my bare back and I feel myself fade. His soft tender voice awakens me. “Hey, when was the last time you ate?”
I playfully start biting his chest. “Well, I was planning on having you, but you stopped me.”
He laughs and it’s the first time I’ve heard that sound in a while. “No really, I want you to eat something.”
I look up at him with a wicked smile on my face.
“Food, Dahlia. Food.” Then he smirks his devilish grin and says with a wink, “Then you can have me for dessert.”
I sit up. “Do you think it’s too early for a grilled cheese, a chocolate milkshake, and French fries?”
Without answering he sits up and grabs the hotel room phone to call room service. “I’d like to order two chocolate milkshakes, two grilled cheeses, and two orders of fries, please.”
He slips his jeans on without boxers and I wrap myself in the hotel robe. The food arrives and we eat, dipping our fries in each other’s shakes. We alternate feeding each other and licking the shake off each other’s mouths. We laugh and have fun like we haven’t in what seems like forever.
Once we’ve finished eating we sit down and finally talk, and I mean we actually talk, we don’t yell, accuse, avoid, or blame.
He settles against the bed. “Okay, let’s do this.”
I nod in agreement as I sit at the foot of the bed.
Sighing, he drops his eyes. “Bell came over to see me as soon as you left Mom’s house. I know she told you everything.”
His eyes rise up to meet mine and he crawls down to me and lifts my chin. “First, you need to know how very sorry I am . . . how many times I tried to tell you . . . I just could never get the words out. I couldn’t hurt you like that.”
I close my eyes, his apology so sincere that pain pierces through my heart from the weight of the secret he kept, not just for me, but for him as well. The burden had to be almost unbearable. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and look at his gorgeous face for the longest time. Then I bring my lips to his and kiss him. It’s not a burning-with-desire kiss—it’s a kiss that lets him know he doesn’t have to apologize anymore. I understand. When we break away we smile at each other and he lets out a long sigh before moving back to where he was sitting.
“Bell’s pregnancy and decision to not keep the baby was really hard on all of us. Mom wanted her to keep it. Xander and I stayed out of it but we also knew she wasn’t ready to be a mother. But her decision to give up the baby was her own. I never voiced my opinion either way. I just told her I would be there for her. The day she had the baby she didn’t want to see it or to know if it was a boy or girl. Mom was in there with her and she saw the baby and held it just once. To this day, we never talk about it.”
Wiping my fingers under my eyes I think about what he just said. Regardless of the fact that Ben fathered that child, the situation was heartrending and I could only imagine how torn Bell was. That could not have been an easy decision to make.
“River, I called Ben and confronted him about the affair, but I didn’t tell him about the baby. I’ll never tell him about the baby. It’s not my place.”
He nods somberly, agreeing with me. He rakes his fingers through his hair and I can tell he has more to say.
“What is it?”
“There’s more. Bell is not the only reason I didn’t tell you. When he was dead I didn’t want to hurt you that way. It didn’t make sense, so I didn’t say anything. When he came back, when he was standing right there in front of us, I wasn’t sure if you’d go back to him. So I didn’t tell you, but this time it was because of me—I needed you to pick me because you wanted to be with me. Not because of how you’d feel about him when you found out.”
I’m not mad or angry with him for his admission; I had already let that go. Getting off the bed, I go sit next to him. I need to tell him how I feel. How I’ve always felt about him. I need to tell him what I should have all along. I never did because it felt wrong when Ben was dead—like if I said the words out loud Ben would hear me.
Cupping his cheeks I speak from my heart and divulge something I’ve never once said out loud. “River, it’s always been you. From the minute I saw you at the bar, I think it’s always been you. I never even set a wedding date with Ben and maybe that was why. Because you were the one for me, you are the one for me.”
After a moment passes, he sighs and brings me to his chest and just holds me, whispering, “Thank you.”
We stay that way until he dips his head to mine. “By the way, Bell probably isn’t speaking to me. I got really pissed when she told me she had talked to you.”
I allow one small smile and tell him, “I’m sure she’ll get over it, she’s used to your moods.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess she is, and, besides, she’s so happy right now with her new job I don’t think she could stay mad at anybody for long.”
I smile big at that. Then I sit back on my knees. “I talked to Grace yesterday.”
He looks at me with concern. “How did it go?”
I smile. “Really well. We’re fine, more than fine. And after I talked to her I only wanted to come home and talk to you, but Ellie was there and I couldn’t face her. I was so upset to see her there again. I just knew it would piss me off to go inside and I wanted so much to talk to you without any anger. So that’s why I decided to go see Bell first and make sure she knew I wasn’t mad at her.”
He nods. “Ellie dropped by and I was in no mood for her crap, but she tried making one last-ditch effort to get me back on the tour, and when she knew it was a lost cause, she left and I waited for you to come home. I drove out to Laguna, couldn’t find you. Came home, found your phone in the closet, then stayed up all night. I called Aerie, even Caleb. Then I wrote a song to pass the time just not to go crazy.”
I start crying again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call or come home. I wanted to. I have no idea why I didn’t.”
“Shh . . . don’t cry. We’re okay. We’re together now and nothing like that is ever going to happen again.”
Wiping my tears, I kiss him for a long while then break free and decide it’s time to talk about our jealousy. Ellie is easily put to rest and surprisingly so is Ben. He still half flinches when I say Ben’s name, but I don’t think that will ever pass and I’m okay with that.
River tells me, “Once I read the note you left me, I knew I had nothing to worry about, no reason to be jealous.”
He believes me and I believe him; we both trust each other because, after all, isn’t that what love is—knowing someone can crush you, but believing they never will, trusting them not to?
We talk about everything else that has happened between us over the last few weeks—our urgent sex needs, his tantrums, my running away, my avoidance, and his need to protect me. These are talks from the heart and they open up many old wounds for both of us, but it is okay. We even discuss his fervent need to protect the women he loves. He has a hard time explaining it, but I get it. I think it stems back to his father’s selfishness. In the end we both decide we will work toward communicating better.
