I don’t want to be that woman.
I shove to my feet, my entire body shaking. I lift my eyes to Nate’s and I see his expression is equally as broken as mine. I know what I have to do—I have to do it for him, for me, for Lena, for Jacob and, most of all—for Macy.
“Don’t do that again,” I say, my voice strangled. Those are the hardest four words I’ve had to say in my life. “You can’t ask me to feel something I’m not allowed to feel, Nate. And,” my voice breaks and I get that horrible, crying voice that doesn’t make this easier, “and you can’t expect me to be strong enough to say no. I can’t say no to you, Nate. If you push, I can’t keep away. I don’t have the strength. You affect me in a way no one has ever affected me. So, I’m asking you—just don’t do it. Don’t make me become someone I’m not—because I will, Nate. For you, I will.”
I turn and hurry off before he can say another word.
Because if he speaks to me, if he begs, if he looks at me with those lost, broken eyes . . . then I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep away from him.
CHAPTER 15
NATE
“Nate,” she moans, her head dropping back, her pink lips parting. “More.”
I drive my body into hers, filling her, completing her, claiming her. Her hands are on my back, nails biting into my skin. She feels so good, so fucking sweet, so fucking perfect.
“Baby,” I murmur, taking her hips in my hands and lifting her hips, driving deeper.
“Yes,” she cries, nipples hard, body arched and ready to release. “Don’t stop.”
I bolt upright in bed, sweating, hard as a fucking rock and disorientated. I run a hand down my face and close my eyes, clenching my jaw tight. I can’t do this—I can’t keep dreaming of her every night. She’s always there, in my head, in my thoughts, consuming me. I’m a fuckin’ bad man. It’s not fair for me to even contemplate being with another woman—it’s the most disrespectful thing I could ever do to my wife, regardless of our problems.
I need to get out of here. I need to get away.
Maybe I’ll go interstate for a race, take a few months away, give myself a chance to stop this shit. Give me a break from Lena—maybe then I’ll miss her. I need to miss her—I need to realize what I’ve got. I need to try. I need to be a good man.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and slide out, not wanting to disturb Lena. I walk out into the kitchen and flick on the light, then I take a glass and fill it with water, swallowing it down quickly.
Get out. Fix this. Forget her.
Three things—none of them simple.
~*~*~*~
“What?” Lena cries, crossing her arms and glaring at me. “You’re not going to race interstate, Nate. No way.”
“I need to and you know it. Things are bad, Lena. I need time. I need to get my shit together.”
“You’re just trying to find an easy way of ending this,” she yells, throwing her hands up. “Don’t be such an asshole. If you’re going to end it, then just fucking end it.”
“Fuck,” I growl. “I’m tryin’ here. Do you think it wouldn’t just be easier for me to end this? Jesus, of course it would, but that’s not how it should be. I’m trying to do the right thing here—trying to fix something that I’m more than sure is broken.”
“You’re only doing it for Macy, because you know if you leave me I’ll take her and you don’t want to lose her. You aren’t doing it for me.”
She’s both right and wrong about that. The biggest reason I try is in fact for Macy, because she deserves both her parents in her life and I know that Lena will make it extremely difficult for me to see her if I walk away. The idea of not seeing my daughter breaks me—it tears me fucking apart. But, aside from that, I don’t want to hate Lena. I want to see if there’s something left—we both deserve that effort.
“You’re wrong,” I mutter. “I’m doing it for both of you.”
She shakes her head. “If you go, then go, but don’t expect me to wait around.”
“Shit, Lena, do you want this to end? Is that what you want? If it is, then let’s cut all ties and call it off now, so we don’t have to keep going through this fucking shit. I can’t get myself together if you’re not in it too. So if you want to end it, then fuckin’ end it.”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head quickly. “I don’t want to end it. I just . . . it’s just . . .”
“I get it,” I say, fully understanding her hesitation. “So that’s why you need to let me go. It’ll only be a few months. It’ll be good for us.”