Page 93 of Desiring an Angel

And what my love hoped for I would move the world to make happen.

If only I could lower my defenses toward the woman he’d fallen in love with.

Yes, he’d addressed me while we’d fucked her senseless between us, but his eyes had stayed on her face.

That love, that passion, I soaked in when pleasuring him shone clearly in his eyes as he’d gazed at her.

The balance I’d thought we’d found once more shifted around us. Her words had shaken my resolve—made me feel weak as fuck, but I couldn’t. Let. Go. The walls I’d hidden behind my entire life had grown too thick, too dominating to crumble beneath a woman simply calling me out on my bullshit.

Two weeks passed, and every goddamn night, Ashton stuck his dick inside her pussy without a condom, loving on her until he filled her full of his spunk.

I refused to do the same.

Yes, I took her ass when not requesting to just watch them and tear apart my insides, but it wasn’t her hole I lusted for.

I wanted Ash. His kisses. His affection.

But like a light switched on, he’d become overly focused on his quest to impregnate Skylar. I’d never seen him so driven and unwavering. As though a ticking clock and desperation had taken control of his mind, he didn’t talk about anything else. Refused to, shutting me down anytime I approached a conversation outside work or unimportant details of life.

Perhaps once he succeeded, his relentless pursuit of pussy would abate, and he would emotionally return to me.

That was my hope, the thing I clung to as every day passed and the distance between us grew.

If only I knew how to express what his actions did to me…

The ache in my chest while waiting for balance to return went beyond anything I’d experienced. The memory of begging him to never leave me in the early morning hours after my mother’s death shredded my thoughts.

There was nothing strong or stoic about the storm inside me.

I refused to reach a breaking point as my father had done while losing his shit beside Mom’s hospital bed.

No one would ever see how emotionally fragile I was in the deepest reaches of my soul. How weak I’d become.

Skylar got her period the morning of Ash’s birthday party.

I shouldn’t have been relieved—but I was—and I hated myself for it.

She cried, curled on her bed, and Ash wrapped himself around her, tears in his eyes as well.

So much for his having a happy birthday.

Unable to stand the sense of asshole I felt inside, I left them alone and went outside to sit by the pool with a cold beer since we had at least an hour before the party planner and caterers arrived.

Canceling the event would have been best for them, but I couldn’t fathom the long hours ahead with no hope of distraction.

I should have been pleased Ash had something other than his own sadness at facing yet another birthday without Archer, but I couldn’t get beyond the hurt that he clung to her rather than me in his grief.

The still pool directly in front of me invoked memories of Ash and Skylar kissing while half-submerged, so I moved my attention to the ocean beyond. Swells, waves, and breaks played over the water in soothing, rhythmic motions, never ceasing.

Restless depths lay below full of violence as creatures fought for survival.

But it was beautiful topside, hypnotic…luring.

I’d never been a fan of swimming in the ocean. Too many unknowns, the inability to see what lurked beneath, made me feel small…pathetically uncertain.

My heart began to race, and restlessness tugged at my senses urging my thoughts to flee from danger.

I turned my focus to the patio around the pool Lionel’s Landscaping had replaced earlier in the spring. Every paver had been laid with precision, perfectly aligned. Set into place and unmoved by whatever storm might pass through.

---