Mom feels guilty. She does everything she can to help, and I can't say I turn it down. We're into the holidays before I finally come out of my coma long enough to take work seriously.
I refuse to take another job with her connections. It blew up in my face last time with Cascades Now! and I don't need another disaster to make me think about Ty.
Of course, I can't stop thinking about him.
He reaches through my chest and tears my heart out every night. Every fucking day. I dream about the tropical warmth I found in his arms all winter, and sweat remembering our heart pounding sex when spring comes.
I've picked up some consulting work, mostly line editing documents and things like that. It's not much money, but I get to work from home, and I'm doing it on my own.
The clients like what I do, and I adore them because they keep my brain on channels that aren't set to constant heartbreak. I try to bury my nose in career books when I'm not proofing for cash. It usually keeps me going until dinner time, when I shut down to eat and cleanup for the day.
Then the memories come back to torture me. That's when I miss him, and wonder what the hell happened to make him give up on me for good.
Was it all just a lie? Did the charming, brash, stinking rich asshole I first met screw me over once again?#p#分页标题#e#
I could accept that. It would hurt less to admit I misjudged him, made a terrible mistake, and had a fling with a remorseless bastard who at least gave me some spine tingling sex before casting me aside like another toy.
It happens. Bad boys rule this world, and sometimes they're bad guys too.
But the fact that I don't know is what haunts me. I don't understand why he's cut me out of his life. I wonder if he's hurting like I am.
The memories are brutal. I remember how softly he'd growl in my ear after we made love, how good his lips felt against my skin, and how we went from being bitter step-siblings to best friends in a few tumultuous weeks. It's the miracle of a lifetime, and its loss is devastating.
I keep working. I distract myself. I throw myself into whatever I can to take my mind off Ty, taking breaks with Mom over long cups of coffee, or driving down to Portland to see Dana. I feel bad about the trips, where I do nothing except rehash the disastrous silence with him. I'm sure one day she'll pull a muscle wearing that sympathetic grin while I'm dumping all over her.
But they both help. Really. They put gauze on a gushing wound that needs a tourniquet, but it's better than nothing.
Mom teaches me all about clearing my mind, banishing the nightmares in my life with a body work and breathing regimen for dulling the pain. Dana reminds me I'm never alone, shows me a good time, and constantly tries to get me to approach guys at the bars.
All I do is smile and keep my distance. I'm not going down that road again, and it's not an option, even if I want to. There aren't any places in Portland quite like Club Zing. And among all the bars and lounges and restaurants we frequent, there's no man like Ty.
There's arrogant playboys, desperate dude-bros, and divorced charmers with salt and pepper hair galore, looking for their newer, younger wives. They're all special in their own way, yeah, sometimes even a little hot. But not one man I see has that rare mix of fire and ice, money and heart, violence and tenderness.
Everything I want begins and ends with Tyler Sterner, and nobody else offers it.
Something different happens on the last trip to Portland. I don't know why it doesn't kick in at the bars, and sneaks up on me when I'm making my way home to Tacoma instead.
I'm in the car humming along to a love song when I just break down. The lyrics fall to pieces in my throat, and my voice breaks. I cry so hard I'm close to pulling over before I continue my drive.
It hurts like hell because Ty's love is missing from my life, but that's old news. What hurts even worse is that I want to find love, and I realize I'll have to do it without him if he's gone for good.
And I know he is.
For the first time, I feel it in my bones, and I don't wonder if it's some cruel physiological aftershock left by the Tasing a year ago. It's a year ago to the day, isn't it?
The next two days, I barely think about Ty at all, a sudden scary first.
I'm taking a break from my editing to walk to the mailbox when it shows up. As soon as I feel the envelope in my hands, my heart plunges to my ankles. The handwriting makes my knees give out, and I barely catch myself against the door for support.
God damn it.
I want to scream and curse, fall to the ground, tearing at the last summer grass until I've dug a rabbit hole to Wonderland to leave this world forever. I can't believe I have to open this fucking thing.
The package comes right when I was about to let go. I don't even have to see what's inside to know I never will. I'm mentally doing the math, trying to figure out how much it'll cost to get to Alaska before a freshly printed airfare voucher falls into my hand.#p#分页标题#e#