He didn’t practice at home because it wasn’t about us. Home is where relationships are, but the club is cold and simply for pleasure. All he ever cared about with me was the bondage and sex. The rest of it was simply a means to an end. And when that end got messy, he bailed.
Sex with me was no longer convenient, so he was done. On to the next woman. Just like every other man out there.
I’m feeling marginally better by the time Lee gets home that night with all the necessities for a pity party. Two giant tubs of ice cream, the fluffiest pair of pajamas I’ve ever seen, and a three-pack of tissues.
“Put these on, and sit your ass on the couch,” she says, pushing the pajamas against my chest. “Tonight we’re staying in, stuffing our faces with ice cream, and using every one of those tissues bawling over whatever movies will make you forget about the asshole.”
I don’t even question it. She drove hours to my college after my last breakup, which wasn’t near this bad, and helped me through it. So if she thinks I need a pity party, then a pity party I shall have.
Days later, it seems I am still deep in the pity party, or at least Lee thinks so.
“Come on, Harper. You haven’t left the house since I got home on Thursday, and it’s now Tuesday.”
I roll over in bed. “Not like it matters. I don’t have a job to go to.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s home. His next treatment isn’t for a few more days.”
“Come on, you need to at least do something. Even if it’s just coming with me to get takeout.”
“I’m fine right here.”
Lee sighs and leaves my bedroom. Why bother? Work doesn’t need me. Declan made that clear when he imposed this leave on me. Axel’s not going to call me to go to the club with him, either. He got bored with me when I couldn’t be what he wanted. Hell, Declan probably knew the breakup was coming. Axel told him after I left the club, and this was his way of keeping things from getting messy at work. Get me out of the way for a while.
The thought doesn’t make me feel any better.
24
Axel
I left Harper’s apartment a week ago and came straight home. I haven’t been out again since. My control is slipping, the threads being pulled from all sides while I try to keep them together. It’s exhausting, and I need a break.
Harper. I love her, but I can’t be with her. I demand too much, and when her thread snaps, it reminds me of the hell I’d thought was behind me. I can’t get away from her, either. Asking Declan to fire her for my indiscretions would be wrong, but she was going to be at work, too.
Even the thought of going to the club makes my stomach twist in knots. More than a year of pleasure collapses into the memory of holding Harper to my chest while she sobbed.
My phone had rung pretty consistently for the first day, chiming with text notifications between calls. Finally, I responded with a single group text to both Maddox and Declan: Taking some time off. After that, I’d turned off my cell phone and unplugged the one in the house.
I hadn’t opened my email since that afternoon, either, though I sent one blast to my department, letting them know that I would be away and who I’d be directing clients to in the interim. I created the appearance of everything being handled, even if it was all slipping away.
I trudged to the fridge and opened it, rummaging through the takeout containers for something to reheat and tossing a few of the iffier-smelling ones out. Thank goodness for delivery apps. I hadn’t even needed to leave to eat. I ordered whatever I thought would make me feel better and tipped the drivers enough to keep me from waiting long.
I toss a couple odds and ends on a plate and put it in the microwave. Nothing goes together, and anybody else would question it, but I haven’t really tasted anything in days. Food has become nothing more than sustenance. I eat because I’m hungry, and then just enough to get my stomach to stop growling.
I’ve just sat on the couch to eat whatever ended up on the plate when I hear the key in the door.
“Go away!” I yell. There’s only one person who has a key, and I don’t want to see him.
Maddox opens the door and steps in with Declan only a few feet behind him. He surveys the room. His nose scrunches, and he promptly starts picking up empty food containers that I couldn’t deal with once I was done eating.
“I don’t want you here,” I say.
“Too bad,” Maddox replies. “We’re here, and we’re not leaving until we get some answers.”
“Just leave.”
Maddox sighs. “Declan, can you get me a trash bag? They should be under the kitchen sink.”
“Yeah, no prob,” Declan replies.
“Don’t you two assholes need to be at work?”
“It’s Saturday,” Maddox responds.
“No, it’s not. It’s Thursday.”
“Try again.”
I pick up the tablet I’ve been using to order food and swipe the clock. It really is Saturday.
Declan walks back in, shaking open a trash bag, which he holds out while Maddox dumps the empty containers into it. A few minutes later, my living room looks less like a college dorm at midterms and almost like the house of a respectable bachelor again.
Maddox looks around and nods then walks over and pulls me up.
“Hey!” I protest. “I was eating!”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies. “You were pushing food around your plate with a fork. None of it was getting into your mouth.”
“I was getting to it.”
“You can reheat it.”
“I just did.”
“Then you can reheat it again. You reek.”
“Nobody asked you.”
Maddox stops and steps in front of me. “Look. You can either drag your sorry ass to the shower and clean yourself, or I’m going to haul you back there and scrub you down myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not? It’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen. We’re identical, remember? I’ll just pretend I’m looking in a mirror and try not to linger near your junk.”
“Asshole.”
“What’s your choice?”
“Fine,” I grumble.
“I will be checking in on you in a few minutes, so don’t think you can just sit on the toilet for a bit and sulk without getting wet.”
I flip him off but decide it’s easier to shower than to deal with Maddox butting in. A few minutes later, I head back to the living room, dressed in clean sweats, to see that Maddox and Declan are playing cards at my dining room table.
“Pull up a seat,” Maddox says. “We’ll deal you in.”
“No,” I cross my arms. “You’ve taken out my garbage and forced me to shower. Now leave.”
“Not happening,” Declan responds. “Now sit your ass down.”
I huff and sit on the couch instead. I turn on the television just to spite them, picking a movie at random.
“If you’re not going to play,” Maddox says, “how about making us some coffee?”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, that’s not very hospitable,” Declan replies. “Draw two.”