CHAPTER 20
My other hand clutched the couch as I shook against Nella. Crying was freedom. It hurt so damn much. Every beautiful moment I'd shared with Christian flashed through my mind each time I thought about stopping—so I didn't. I kept crying.
Until I was worn out.
Until I couldn't cry anymore—only sniffle.
Nella guided me upstairs to my bedroom. I leaned on her for support. I hadn't said a word since she arrived. Guilt stirred, but I couldn't speak—everything was lodged in my throat. I was mute.
I couldn't even move on my own.
As I sat on the bed, I caught Nella's expression. Anger filled her face. A sharp, dangerous anger—one I knew was meant for Christian.
"Hey," she said softly, rubbing my cheek. "Wanna take a bath?"
I nodded. That was all I could manage. She smiled gently.
She undressed me and led me into the bathroom. I stood beneath the shower, letting the water run over my hair and skin, hoping it would wash away every lingering trace of Christian's touch. Time blurred. I stayed there far too long.
I thanked God for Nella—for pulling me out, drying me off, tucking me into bed. She sat on the floor beside me, her head resting against the mattress, close enough that I could see her eyes when I looked down. When I did, tears welled again.
"Not anymore, baby," she whispered. "Not anymore."
"Am I that bad?" I asked hoarsely, waking from a shallow sleep. She was still there—exactly where I'd left her.
Her face twisted in confusion.
"Am I really that bad?" I continued. "Just when I thought I'd found love… I fall flat on my face. I ruin everything."
No tears came. I had none left.
"Listen to me," Nella said firmly. "I've probably never told you this, but you are the most beautiful, kindest, sweetest person I've ever known. You are more than what a man makes you feel like. You're a boss. Never forget that."
"I've been living on a fault line," I murmured. "And for a while, Christian was mine. Now he's gone too. Just like Kai."
"Did you ever stop to think about what Christian might be doing right now?" She cupped my face, forcing me to look at her. "You're here, breaking over someone who didn't deserve you. This isn't you. It's who he hoped you'd be when he left."
Her eyes burned into mine. "Prove him wrong. Get back on your feet and slay like you always do."
A small chuckle escaped me. Seeing it, she let the seriousness drop.
"Now," she said, stretching, "after all that crying and emotional damage—aren't you hungry? 'Cause I'm starving."
"There's nothing to eat," I said, climbing out of bed. "I don't think I have anything sensible to cook."
She rolled her eyes. "I'd call you a bitch if you weren't drowning in your feelings. What kind of rich person doesn't have food?"
She marched downstairs.
I was grateful she stayed through those hours—the ones that felt like they were tearing into me, into my flesh, down to the bone. Sunlight spilled through the balcony doors. I was still hurting… but I knew something now.
If I survived it once,
I would survive it again.
NELLA'S POV
My heart broke when my eyes landed on Brenda. Curled up, crying. Hurt. Broken! She looked like a mess. Her eyes were puffy like marshmallows, red like hot coal, and wet like a riverbank.
The last time she was in this state was when that big head boy Kai left her. I knew that only a man could do that to her.
I was the opposite of Brenda. Unlike her, I'm not kind and considerate. I believe in tit for tat. Hurt me and I'll hurt you back, it's common sense I believe.
As soon as Brenda fell asleep again at night and I was heading to my car, my being screamed for Christian's presence. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind and a piece of my fist.
I had hit a few guys and Christian, he was a walk in the park to me.
I was so far into my own imagination that I didn't realize I had been in my driveway for half an hour. I didn't even realize when I drove back home.
The scent of freshly baked banana bread.
"Babe, I'm home!" I called out to my husband. The man that took my breath every time I saw him. The man who would stand between me and a tsunami. Paul emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron. I took some time to admire my gorgeous husband. His tanned skin was sweaty, his hair was messy, and his face was inviting. He walked over to me and placed a kiss on my forehead. His hands had flour so he restrained himself from touching me.
"How is she?" He asked. I had called to inform him that I'd be home late. I explained the situation over the phone so he knew.
"Bad!" I replied, removing my jacket.
"I can imagine! Some men, honestly, I sometimes wonder!" He shook his head and went back to the kitchen.
Like a lost puppy, I trailed behind him.
"Smells delicious in here!" My mouth watered as he placed a plate of the banana bread with whipped cream on it.
"All for you, querida!"
I loved it when he spoke Spanish! Especially when he calls me that. It made my mind go haywire with lust.
I blinked just to take away the sinful thoughts from my head. I took a bite from the bread, intentionally leaving some cream on my lips.
"Babe, this is sooo delicious!" I praised.
He watched me with such attention. It was one of the reasons I married him. Paul paid attention to all the little things that I did, things that made me smile.
"Here," he moved to where I was and held my face in his hands, "let me clean that for you!"
He brought out his tongue and licked the cream from my lips. I pressed my thighs together, trying to suppress the heat that was attacking my core.
"Thank you!" I winked.
I took another bite, leaving cream on my lips. Again! Intentionally!
He licked it. Again!
This time I tried to kiss him but he pulled his head back.
"You know I love a woman that can eat!"
I did the same thing again. Leaving cream on my lips intentionally.
"I have something on my lips! Mind cleaning it for me?" I asked, feigning innocence.
Paul chuckled.
"I think you're doing this on purpose!"
Obviously! You're my husband and I'm supposed to enjoy you!
After licking my lips for the third time, my core was on fire and I needed it to be quenched. Paul tried to move away from my kiss but I pulled him in by the belt.
"You're not running away this time!" I whispered against his lips.
I bit his bottom lip, stealing a groan from him. I took the chance and dipped my tongue in his mouth. Soon he was responding, taking the reins completely as he kissed the daylight out of me.
The passionate dance of the tongues went on. I slipped my hands into his jeans and landed on his member.
"Is it still sore?" I asked, slightly breaking the kiss.
"Noo, it healed just fine!"
Paul had gotten his member pierced. He had one on the crown and eight along his shaft. We hadn't had sex in a month. I wanted him to heal properly.
Yeah, eight! He's a big guy. When I say big, I mean big. The kind of big that steals your soul from you.
"Not here!" He grabbed me by the ass and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around him. My husband was strong, he'd lift me up like a sack of potatoes while I was a big girl. Last time I stood on the scale, I weighed 244 pounds. And yet this man carried me like I weighed nothing.