The woman screamed. He laughed darkly, lifted his hand, and smacked her naked ass. She yelped. Then he did it again, and again, until her rear turned red and she was coming and screaming . . .
Arilyn turned from the closet and pushed her clenched fists against her eyes. The image burned like acid.
He’d never made love to her that way, with a violent, dirty need combined with lust. He practiced tantric sex, a slow-moving, spiritual, gentle swell of need that climbed gradually. Their lovemaking took place in many locations, but it was always completely controlled, quiet, deeply satisfying. He worshipped her body with his. Never bent it to his will or ripped crazy orgasms from her.
She’d never forget his face. So deeply satisfied, like he was surrendering in a way he never could with her. Was this what he’d wanted the whole time? Had he believed she couldn’t handle his sexual desires? The almost violent, possessive, hungry primal instincts inside him?
Fighting a shudder, she began to unpack her crystals and meditation supplies. How long had she made excuses for his inability to truly commit to her? Yes, he revered his privacy and followed a spiritual path without conventions, societal role plays, and sexual expectations. That was what she’d loved about him. They viewed the world similarly and wanted to make a difference. He was a workaholic, but in a good way. Always driven to help others in their journey. Another reason he was afraid to commit to a long-term relationship. He feared she’d become demanding and force him to quit his beloved career.
But after years of being hidden in the background, while he refused to meet her friends or family, and conducted their affair after hours and in secret like a torrid affair, she’d finally given him the ultimatum. The idea that no one ever uttered his first name faded from being a thrilling secret to a quiet humiliation.
Thirty approached. She craved permanence and a chance to have a family. Was that too much to ask? She didn’t want to pigeonhole him, only to grow and change by his side. After his first indiscretion, she forced herself to trust him again. After all, he apologized, confessing his fear that love would overpower his spiritual path. He promised never to cheat again. As the in-house counselor at Kinnections matchmaking agency, Arilyn advised clients many times that a relationship couldn’t work halfway, so she forgave.
Things finally changed. They’d been happy for a few months, and he even agreed to meet her family.
Humiliation cut through her. The fire crystal shook in her hands. She breathed deep and tried to absorb the healing powers meant to relieve sharp anxiety and induce calm. Stupid. His face when she opened the door haunted her.
Those gorgeous dark eyes widened with shock. Her gaze swept over his beloved face, taking in the high brow bone, long, sharp nose, square jaw. He stared at her, not moving, not speaking, while the silence beat around them in angry waves of energy.
“Arilyn.”
Her name on his lips made her shudder. The musical, lilting quality of his timbre usually hypnotized her, whether in yoga class or the bedroom. The hurt rolled over her in waves, and she longed to curl up in a ball in her bed and try to make sense of it. Instead, she just stood there like an idiot, waiting for him to say something.
“I’m sorry, Arilyn.” His voice deepened with grief and regret. His eyes filled with sadness. “I broke my promise. My body is weak, but my heart still beats for you. It always will. You must find a way to forgive me.”
No. For the rest of her life, she’d remember him grunting and coming in another woman’s body. And for the first time in five years, the box deep inside of her finally locked. She’d never let him back into her heart or life again. She’d closed the box many, many times before, but never locked it.
A tiny click echoed in her ears like a gunshot.
It was finally over.
Her heart withered in her chest, drying up any tears that she might have shed. All that was left was a shell and a burning emptiness she’d never get over.
Arilyn studied the man she’d loved for the last time. Her voice came out like a winter’s storm. Cold. Brutal.
Dead.
“It’s over. Don’t call, text, or contact me ever again.”
Arilyn placed an amethyst stone next to the fire and began setting up her meditation corner. Lenny and Mike collapsed on the wooden floor, temporarily exhausted and exhilarated. Pieces of red straps and a chewed heel lay around them in destructive glory. She envied them. Her emotions bubbled beneath the surface worse than a witches’ brew. Maybe a grueling session of ashtanga yoga would help her sweat out some of the mess. Arilyn studied the crystals before her and plucked the dark red stone from its perch. Definitely garnet. Used for balancing overemotional stakes and stuck anger.