Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(86)

My lips brushed along her temple, they glided across her cheek bone before my lips pressed to the shell of her ear.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, kissing her again, “I’m so sorry…”

It took all the strength I had to step away from her, to leave her on the bed asleep when all I wanted to do was wake her up, climb on the bed behind her and pull her into my arms then never let her go again.

But it was too late.

We were always a losing game.

Some people are written in the stars, some their souls are linked and entwined from the very beginning and for some, love is nothing but a disaster. I was the gasoline; she was the flame. We were always going to cause a catastrophic wake in our paths.

I had found my person. Just at the wrong time.

And it killed me to walk away.

But I had to walk away.





CHAPTER 38





KILLIAN





I was up and out early the next morning. I sat in the back of my car as I was driven towards Connie’s townhouse. Reaching for the cashmere material next to me, my fingers twiddled with the small strands that hung from Reese’s scarf that I had taken the night before. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled deeply. If I was going to walk away from her, I needed something of hers to remind me of the one I lost. The one that would eventually get away and find the one person she was destined for.

My heart ached at the thought that she would move on one day without me.

Connie flooded my mind in an instant and I felt my stomach flip, I hated upsetting her, but this was more than a taboo fling with my daughter’s best friend. My index finger rubbed the indentation mark from the wedding band that was a little too tight on my finger. I felt the pain crash through me at the thought of it not being there anymore, and for some strange reason, I missed it more today. Funny how a little bit of metal could mean so much.

But now there was nothing but emptiness. My chest hollow.

Pulling up outside Connie’s home, I told my driver I wouldn’t be long and if he had to move then to text me.

Pushing the button through my charcoal suit jacket I climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

I wasn’t on the doorstep long when a very annoyed Lara opened the door.

She crossed her arms across her pristine, white pant suit. Her short brown hair sitting on her shoulders. Her lips were pouted, her perfectly shaped brows raised.

“Well, you fucked up,” she sighed, stepping aside and letting me in. I nodded, sighing as I stepped over the threshold.

I held my hands up in surrender. “I know, I know… okay?” my voice hushed as we stood at the bottom of the sweeping staircase. I bought this house for Lara and her wife Katie once Connie was born. They wouldn’t take money from me at first, so I bought them a house for Connie. They couldn’t say no to that.

“Why, Killian? Why Connie’s friend…?” she dropped her arms, one of her hands clutching onto the stair rail.

“I didn’t know she was Connie’s friend until Thanksgiving. If I did, I would never have come onto her.” I winced at my words.

“Classy,” she scoffed softly, “Connie is really upset…” her voice trailed off as she looked up the stairs, “not only is she her best friend, but she is going to be a big sister… it’s one big fuck up Killian!” Lara’s voice was a little sterner now as she crossed her arms against her chest again.

“I know, I’m here to make it right… let me go up there please,” I said exasperated.

“Be my guest, I’m not sure she will want to see you, but you know where her room is. Me and Katie will have a glass of whiskey on the table when you’re ready,” she laughed, “you’re going to need it I feel…”

I pushed the sleeve of my suit up ever so slightly and looked at my watch, my head snapping up as I looked at Lara. “It’s ten am in the morning.” My brows pinching.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She shrugged her shoulders up before sashaying her hips down as she walked down the hallway.

She was right. I was going to need it.

Connie was stubborn and strong headed. If she didn’t want to hear me out, then she wouldn’t. She could quite easily turn a deaf ear on my words if that’s what she wanted to do. You didn’t cross her; she wasn’t big on giving second chances. I just hoped I hadn’t burned the rickety bridge that I had spent so hard re-building over the last few years.

Pacing the stairs slowly, I didn’t know what I was about to walk into. I was hoping it was a full on, bull raging Connie instead of a calm and nonchalant Connie.

She was much worse.

I knocked gently with my finger, then pushed the handle down when she called for me to come in. I am sure if she knew it was me, she would have told me to go die.

I sighed, putting on my best smile for her as I stepped into her room. The walls were a light lemon, her wooden framed bed situated in the centre of the room and sitting under the large, sash window that overlooked the large back yard. She had the odd boyband poster hung on her walls, as well as the dream catchers she collected over the years for her bad nightmares that used to cripple her of a night. We never knew if it was the dream catchers that worked or if it was just the thought of them, but they worked.

She was laying on her front on the bed, her legs up and crossed at her ankles as she texted from her phone, not even lifting her eyes to look at me.