Page 11 of Carnal

“And what if he doesn’t?” Her hand lands on her hip as my flannel hangs below her knees. “What if he hates you forever and you lose your son? You’d hate yourself, and I’d hate myself, and then what?”

“That’s not gonna happen. He’ll come around. Trust me.” I stand and land my hand against her shoulder, desperate to convince her that this thing we’ve just started isn’t over, but her expression tells me I’m losing ground.

Sasha stares down at the floor, then up again, before tipping up onto her toes to land a soft kiss against my lips. “We should take a break with this, and you should figure things out with your son.”

“No, Sasha. It took seven years to get to where we got today. We can’t throw all that away because things are hard right now.”

Tears streak down her face as she shakes her head and tucks into the bathroom, locks the door, and runs the water. I knock half a dozen times, but she doesn’t respond. Something tells me she won’t.

Fuck. An hour ago, I was close to having everything I ever needed. Now, I have nothing.

My stomach tightens and I step toward the broken picture frame, pulling out the photo inside before cleaning the glass off the ground and tossing the remnants in the trash. It’s a sweet picture of the three of them at the ocean. Sasha must have been three or four at the time. Her hair is in pigtails, and her smile is wide and bright with all the beauty of the world ahead of her still. I set the photo on the kitchen counter and make my way outside into the cold.

A better man would’ve ignored his urges. A better man would’ve taken care of her without falling in love. A better man would’ve put his son first.

What the hell have I done?

Chapter Seven

Sasha

“So, did you get your closure?” Opal stares at me from across the table, sipping her coffee slowly. Her eyes are usually an emerald green. Today they’re something more of a judgy hazel.

“No. I mean, I guess. I… I got the mess I needed to realize this whole thing was a terrible idea. So… that’s all there is to it.” I puff my cheeks and shrug as the hum of the coffee shop buzzes around us. It’s Saturday morning, and though we keep small-town life small up here, the weekend brings people down from the mountain for fresh donuts and shopping.

“Have you talked to him since?”

“What’s there to say? Realistically, I can’t throw myself between them. They’re a family. They’vebeena family. I’m just a girl. Just your average, everyday girl. That’s it. There are billions of us, and I bet most of them don’t come with this much baggage.” I sigh. “If anything, I need to pack up and leave town, so I never have to run into either of them again.”

She laughs and reaches her hand out toward me. It’s uncharacteristically kind of her, which has me a little uneasy. “I’ve never seen you this depressed, Sasha. This last week you’ve barely left the house, and you didn’t even order the donuts you like this morning.”

I narrow my eyes and tilt my head to the side. “It’s like a breakup, I guess. I’m just getting over it.”

Opal nods slowly and watches me sip my coffee as though the way I choose to drink will decode some master emotion that’ll help her make sense of me. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“About what?” These are also words I rarely hear Opal use.

“I don’t know,” she sips her own coffee then sets the cup down slowly as she looks in my direction, “the whole thing, probably. I mean, what if you and Ryder really are meant to be? You guys went to a lot of trouble to make it happen. What did it feel like when you had him?”

It’s not like Opal to be so… emotional… about anything. I sort of want to check her temperature, or at the very least check myself in the mirror. Maybe I look worse off than I thought.

“It was incredible,” I finally say, trying not to feel the emotions that come rushing back to me. “He made me want to write again, like I could tell a thousand stories off one kiss. He made me believe that love is real.”

“Has he called you since the other night?”

“A million times. There are so many texts and emails and DM’s. I don’t know, they’re all so sweet, but I can barely read them.”

“Why?”

“It hurts.” I wipe away another tear and take a long gulp of coffee, hoping there’s something in it that’ll stabilize my spiraling feelings before the whole shop realizes I’m crying like a baby in the booth by the far-right window. It’s my favorite spot to sit when I’m here. You get the best view of the snow-capped mountains spilling down into town while simultaneously watching all the shoppers. I like to create little stories in my head about their day.

“I think you should call him, girl. You’re going to question this for the rest of your life if you don’t.”

“I think I followed your advice on fucking him to get him out of my head, and I’m thinking… you kind of suck at giving advice.” I grin playfully, though Iamlooking for someone to blame.

“Now listen, I think you should be thankful for my wisdom. You got everything out in the open. One way or another, the pieces’ll fall how they will.”

She’s no more than finished her sentence when I notice Mason standing in the doorway with his brown work coat zipped halfway and his cap adjusted down. He’s changed so much since I’ve seen him last. He’s still tall, lean, and bearded, but his face is older somehow, the lines more defined.

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