Page 105 of His to Bedevil

When I crawled into bed that night with a heavy heart, I rolled over to her side of the bed and smelled the sheets, but I couldn’t smell her. I jumped out of bed and phoned the maids’ line and demanded to know when they last changed the sheets, and someone informed me that Señora Martinez had requested that they be changed earlier that morning. I didn’t need them to clarify whichseñorathey were talking about. I know it was Irma. One of her last fuck yous.

She left her clothes here, and I had Juanita remove them the very next morning. Everything of hers is now gone from my room, but she will never be gone from my mind and she will never lose hold of my heart.

Walking over to my nightstand, I open the drawer and pick up her rings. The only things I cannot seem to let go of. They’re so tiny compared to my fingers, they won’t even go past the tip of my pinky. I used to love to stare at them on her tiny hand, so proud of what they represented. That they meant she was my wife. That we both promised each other forever. And I fucking broke that promise. So many promises.

Till death do us part…I promised her every single day of mine on this planet. She promised me hers. She knew her life was in danger, and yet she loved me and wanted to be here.

I promised myself that she’d never feel abandoned or unloved ever again, and that’s exactly what I did when I let her go. No matter the reason behind it.

I drop the rings back into the drawer and close it. Stepping out onto my terrace, I go over to the edge and stare out at the ocean. I wonder what she’s doing right now on her date. Is she comparing him to me? Is she thinking about me at all? Does she hate me now? What would she do if she ever saw me again?

Selfishly, I hope she never moves on. Because I’m a selfish bastard like that.

Irma

I’m laughing so hard as we approach my door. “Oh my God. You are so ridiculous,” I say, shaking my head as I begin to unlock it.

Trevor and I had so much fun today hiking. We hiked quite a few miles then stopped somewhere for lunch and drinks. Then I invited him back to my place for some more drinks. I’ve been having such a fun time with him, and he’s been keeping my mind off of Alejo. For the first time since I got here, I don’t feel like holing myself up in my apartment and drowning myself in alcohol or a sleeping aid so that I don’t end up crying myself to sleep.

After we both kick off our shoes and peel off our jackets, I fix us some drinks and join him on the couch. “Your place is pretty sweet.” He looks around at everything.

“Thanks.”

He looks back at me and smiles. “You’re probably the coolest chick I’ve ever met. As well as the prettiest. You’re almost too good to be true.”

I snort as I sip my drink. “I’m not perfect.”

For one, I’m still in love with the Cuban kingpin who does horrible things to make money and I don’t even care. Second, before that, I was a thief, a bandit, a con artist, a criminal. Third, I’m also a murderer. I’ve killed two people. I mean, it was self-defense, but still. Fourth, I’m sitting here with the perfect guy, and I feel nothing. The list goes on.

“I’m pretty sure you are.” He continues smiling at me, and I see that he’s leaned in closer and keeps staring at my lips. I freeze as he leans farther in, but I don’t move away. Maybe this is what I need to do. Trevor may not be the one for me, the one to help me move past Alejo, but he can be a great place to start.

I let him close the gap and press his lips against mine. His lips are soft like I faintly remember, and his breath smells good. He moves his lips slowly but confidently, and when his tongue advances into my mouth, I meet him halfway with mine. Our tongues dance together as the kiss grows a little more heated. His hands snake around my lower back, and he pulls me closer to him. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight back the images of Alejo, but I cannot get his face out of my head. It’s as if he’s right here in this room just watching me.

I wrap my arms around Trevor’s neck and pull myself into his lap so that I’m straddling him. His hands go to my hips, and he holds them as I start to grind against him. I can feel how hard he is through his pants, and I want to fast-forward to him being inside of me and trying to erase the memories of Alejo. To take away the only thing he has left of me still. The intimacy we once shared.

Suddenly, tears start to prick the back of my eyes, and my chin begins to tremble. I jolt away as if I have just been burned, and I fall back on my ass onto the ground. “Shit,” Trevor says, reaching for me. “Are you okay, Fynn? What happened?”

I’m too embarrassed to look him in the eye, plus I’m too close to tears, it would be so obvious. I ignore his outstretched hands and get to my feet. “I’m sorry. I’m not really feeling well.” I start to walk away. “You should go.” I try to sound as polite as possible as I head down the hall.

“Fynn!” he calls after me.

“Just go!” I get to my bedroom and close the door, locking it.

Heading over to my bed, I crawl under the covers and wait for the sound of my front door to close before I release the sob I’ve been holding in. As soon as I hear it, I completely break down and cry. My body racks with sobs, and I gasp for air. “Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why?” I cry out to no one. “You said I would never be alone again!”

Alejo never loved me. I will die one day, and I know that will be one of my last thoughts. That Alejandro Martinez never loved me. That my mother never loved me. That my father never loved me. That no one I loved has ever loved me back. It’s the worst feeling in the world. More painful than any physical pain I have endured.

It’s as if my love deters people.

I am twenty-three years old, and I have no idea what it is like to be loved. I cannot believe I honestly thought Alejo loved me. And I did, with all my heart. It came to a point where I didn’t even need to hear those words. I felt it in the way that he touched me and saw it in the way that he looked at me. But in the end, he let me go. He got so bored of me and was so tired of protecting me that he got rid of me. Made our marriage even become nonexistent. He regretted everything he did to keep me. He probably wished he had just killed me to begin with. Would’ve saved himself a damn headache and me a heartbreak.

After I’m done sobbing for what feels like hours, I sit up and wipe the snot and tears away with the back of my sleeve. It’s only seven at night, but I can’t deal with the emotional turmoil going on inside of me anymore. I head into the kitchen and chug a big gulp of my sleeping aid then strip out of my clothes and get back into bed.

Pulling up my texts on my phone, I send out a group text asking if anyone wants to work for me tomorrow because I’m sick. One of the girls says she can, and I thank her and ignore the rest of the texts coming in. Shutting my phone off, I roll over and stare at the wall.

I wonder what Alejo is doing right now. Does he think of me at all? Is he buried deep inside another woman right now? How many women has he been with since I left? Probably dozens. He’s a very sexual man. If I let him, he would’ve fucked me ten times a day. The man was insatiable. There’s no way he’s gone any longer than a week without getting laid.

Between the alcohol, the exhaustion from crying, the hiking, and the drugs, it doesn’t take long for me to pass out and sleep a dreamless sleep.

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