Forced to Love Page 12

  What I don’t understand is where that anger came from, or why it came out right at that moment, just before he…I shake my head, blinking back tears. I can’t figure out what happened. Why did he snap like that just as he was about to enter me?

  Sighing, I roll over. I just need five minutes of not thinking about this so I can look at it with a fresh mind. The only problem is, I can’t not think about it.

  I jump, my eyes flicking open. My heart pounds as I sit up in my bed and look around. The light is still on, and I’m half dressed. I think for a moment, piecing together the last few hours in my head. Matt left and I called Margie.

  I must have fallen asleep.

  The knocking starts again. This time, I get up and race down to open the door. Margie walks in. She wraps her arms around me, then pulls back to examine my face. I smile, even though I don’t feel like it.

  “I'm okay,” I assure her, even forcing myself to look convincing. I lead her into the living room, where we sit down.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asks, her voice dark. “I’ll kill him if he did.”

  I shake my head. “What? No. He’d never do that,” I say, jumping to his defense.

  Even though he was angry, I didn’t feel like it was directed at me at all. He was angry at himself for some reason. I just can’t work out why.

  “So what happened then?” she asks.

  “He just flipped out and left,” I say, still trying to process it. “I got home from a few drinks with some of the girls from work and he wasn’t happy I’d been out. But then…” I flush, my face heating up.

  “Charlene?” What happened?” Margie asks suspiciously. “What was he doing when he stormed out?” She pauses. “Or should I say who.”

  I flush even harder. Her eyes widen as she grins at me. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” she accuses. “No wonder he wasn’t happy you went out. He obviously likes you more than he wanted to. The poor guy is probably jealous.”

  “It didn’t get far enough for me to sleep with him,” I mutter. “Not this time, anyway. And jealous of what? I thought he’d be happy I was making friends at work.”

  “This time?” she gasps. She leans over and slaps me on the arm. “You’ve been holding out on me. What happened?”

  “We slept together,” I say, stating the obvious. I didn’t think I needed to spell it out. She rolls her eyes.

  “Details,” she demands. “You owe me more than just ‘we slept together’,” she mimics.

  “Do you want me to run through every tiny detail?” I say with a smirk on my face. It feels good to smile. At least this is taking my mind off Matt leaving, even if it’s only temporary.

  She laughs. “Do you not know me at all? Of course I want the details.” She shakes her head. “I can't believe you were holding out on me. When did this happen, and why didn’t I know sooner?”

  “A couple nights ago,” I admit. “I was just still so shocked that it happened. I guess I was still processing it all. I didn't want to say anything until I’d worked out for myself what it meant.” She’s my only real friend, and I didn’t want her thinking it was because I didn’t trust her or that I only call on her when I’m in trouble.

  “Okay, so what happened after it?” she asks impatiently. “Were things weird?”

  “Totally,” I say. “But mainly because I was avoiding him.”

  “Ah, was that why you were so insistent on hanging with me?” she asks, grinning.

  I nod. “I just didn’t know how to act after being with him like that. I kept thinking about it and convincing myself that I was going to end up hurt. When I eventually came back home from meeting you for coffee Saturday, he was waiting for me.”

  “What did he say?” she asks.

  “I spoke first and told him we should slow things down. He agreed that what we were doing was only going to complicate things. But all that changed tonight. He was sitting there, waiting for me, again. Only this time, he was tense and worked up about something.”

  “And you thought you’d help work some of that tension out?” she jokes.

  I roll my eyes. “He kissed me. Then things got heavy. He carried me down to the bedroom, and we…” I blush. “Well we started. He lost the plot and stormed out before anything actually happened.”

  “Sounds like he was jealous,” Margie decides with a little too much excitement. “He probably thought you had been out with a guy or something. He can't handle the thought of you with anyone else but him.”

  “Okay, but then why lose it when he has me? It doesn’t make sense,” I say.

  She frowns, like I have her stumped.

  “Anyway,” I say, waving my hand. “I don't want to think about it anymore. Not for now, at least.” I glance at her. “Thanks for coming over here, by the way. I probably don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate your friendship.”

  “Anytime.” She shrugs. “Besides, this place rocks.” She jumps up and walks over to the balcony, sliding the door open. “Holy mother of god, have you seen the view from out here? This is insane,” she says, shaking her head. “Why haven't you invited me over here before? If I'd known he had a place this nice, I’d have fought you for him.”

  Her eyes twinkle, and I laugh. At this point, she can have him if she wants him.

  “Do you think he will come back tonight?” she asks. She winces. “Sorry, you just said you don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I assure her. “Honestly? I’ve got no idea. He’s probably gone to his hotel room.”

  I frown, a thought hitting me. Maybe I should go over there and try to talk to him. It wouldn’t be that hard to work out which hotel it is, considering he already told me it was very close to the office.

  “He has a hotel room?” Margie says, looking confused. “Like he owns it?”

  “As in its permanently booked out to him,” I explain. “In case he needs it. It’s close to work for the days that he can’t be bothered with coming home,” I say.

  “Uh huh,” she murmurs, her eyes narrowing.

  “What?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  “Nothing,” she shrugs, making an expression that tells me it’s way more than nothing. “It’s just that, until last month, he was a rich bachelor. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think he was using that room because he couldn’t be bothered to make the extra ten-minute drive here.”

  “Then why?” I ask. I already know what she’s suggesting, but I still want to hear her say it.

  “He probably didn’t want to bring women back here,” she shrugs. “You’d only need one nightmare of a hook-up and you’d never be able to get rid of her. That and he’s always seemed to me like the kind of guy who values his privacy.”

  “So you don’t think that I should go over there?” I mumble, letting her in on what I’m thinking.

  “I definitely think you shouldn’t,” she declares with a laugh. “If only because you don’t know what you’re going to be walking in on.”

  I frown, not liking the way that comment sounded.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Margie tries to say, but I shake my head.

  “It’s fine,” I say. I sit forward and switch on the TV.

  How would I feel if I walked in on him with another woman? It’s not like this marriage is real. I was the one who said I didn’t want to be with him, so if he wanted to be with someone else, then I suppose he could, but tonight? After leaving me the way he did, to just move onto the next girl? I shudder. He wouldn’t do that.

  “Have you eaten?” Margie asks suddenly.

  I shake my head. “We hadn't gotten that far.”

  It had been dinner time when I got home, but after seeing him sitting there… And with what happened after, food had been the last thing on my mind.

  “How about we order a pizza?” she suggests.

  I nod, not really in the mood to eat anything, but I know I’ll probably feel better if I do.

  The pizza arrives quickly. Margie
tucks in, while I pick at my slice.

  She frowns at me. “You have to eat.”

  “I ate earlier,” I say. She narrows her eyes at me like she doesn't believe me; and considering I told her half an hour ago I hadn’t eaten, I don’t blame her. “I’d forgotten when you asked me before.” I shrug.

  She rolls her eyes but doesn’t push it.

  After dinner, Margie hangs around like she doesn’t want to leave. I think it's just to make sure I'm okay, which is sweet, but I'm not really much mood for company anymore. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. She turns on Netflix, not taking the hint when I yawn and say how tired I am. Instead, she finds a movie and switches it on.

  Soon, she’s so engrossed that it's obvious she's not planning on leaving anytime soon. I give up and watch the screen too. Pretty soon, I find myself drawn into the movie as well. Maybe that was her plan all along. If so, it worked.

  It’s after twelve when she finally leaves, under the promise that I call her if I need anything. I hug her and thank her for coming over again. Alone again, I go back to thinking about Matt and this whole arrangement.

  I can't see us lasting the duration stipulated by his grandfather. How can it? We’ve barely gone three weeks and we’re like this. I can only imagine how we’re going to be by the end of the year. If we’re both still alive, it will be a miracle. I glance at my phone. There are no messages or calls from him.

  Angry, I try to call him. It goes straight through to voicemail. I give up with a sigh and toss my phone on the coffee table. Stalking down to the bathroom, I decide to have a shower, hoping it will relax me enough to be able to get some sleep. As the water rains down over me, all I can think about is him and what it felt like to have him inside me. I shiver and close my eyes, running my fingers over my body. My skin tingles against my touch as I imagine he’s standing here with me, touching me.

  No. Don't do this. That's what got me into trouble in the first place. I force myself not to think about him and quickly finish my shower. I get out and wrap a towel around me, then walk down to my room where I climb into bed, still half wet. Then I remember my phone. I run down to the living room and grab my phone, my heart deflating when there are still no calls or texts waiting for me. I trudge back up to my room and climb back in the bed, pulling the blankets up around me.

  If nothing else, at least I’m dry now.

  Sixteen

  Matt

  I’m ruining everything.

  I pace my hotel room, so incredibly pissed off at myself I can barely breathe. I glance down at my clenched fists and watch the blood pump through my veins like it’s trying to escape. That’s exactly how I feel, like I need an escape. Just a moment where I can forget everything.

  Tonight, I’d made things a thousand times worse. Leaving the way I did? At the moment I did? God knows what’s going through her mind. When I looked down and saw the trust in her eyes, I lost it. I had to get out of there.

  I’m done being manipulated by someone who isn't around to control me anymore. My grandfather is dead. How is he still controlling this family from the grave? It isn’t fair. I pick up a glass and hurl it at the wall, my heart racing as it shatters into tiny pieces. I run my hands through my hair and let out a growl. I have to get it together.

  I'm tired of convincing myself that what I'm feeling for Charlene isn't real, because it is. Tonight is proof of that. The old me would've gone through with fucking her without a condom to get what I needed with no problem or consideration of the consequences. But the new me? The one who is falling in love with her? I couldn’t do that to her.

  The guilt is crushing me. I feel like I’m suffocating and just waiting for her to discover the truth, because I knew in the end she was going to find out and that she'd hate me for it. I can’t be with her, but I’m running out of time.

  She will hate me either way. If I tell her or not, it’s not going to change the fact that she’s never going to want to be with me once she knows the truth. So there’s only one option. I end things with her and get done what needs to be done.

  I'll call my family tomorrow and explain everything. I’ll annul my marriage with Charlene and then I'll go and negotiate with Shannon, who I should've just stuck with in the first place. I nod, feeling confident in my plan for the first time in a long time. The only part I’m not looking forward to is explaining to Charlene why I need to do this.

  She’s going to hate me either way, so why bother worrying about it?

  I go out, a feeble attempt to distract myself from thinking about this anymore tonight. My plan is solid, and if I stay here, I will end up either talking myself out of it or driving myself insane.

  At the bar a few blocks down the street, I find an empty table. I sit down and order a drink. The waitress brings it over to me. I signal for her to wait, and then I gulp down the contents in a single mouthful. I hand the empty glass back to her and order another.

  “Hard night?” she says with a smile. I nod stiffly, not wanting to encourage her. “It’s pretty quiet tonight,” she adds. “If you want a hand to relieve some of that tension you’re carrying, we have a room out back.”

  I glare at her. Does she really think I fit her clientele? She puts her hands up and backs off a bit.

  “Sorry, I was just offering. I’ll get your drink,” she mumbles, slinking away.

  I sigh and sit back in my chair. Although I have no desire to be taken into her back room, maybe her idea isn’t too far off the mark. What I need is to get Charlene off my mind, and what better way to do that than with another woman?

  I glance down and scroll through the contacts in my phone. Shannon's number stands out. I hover my finger over it, almost daring myself to call her. I'm so close to doing it, but I don’t. Something is stopping me. I can't do it. I can't go from Charlene to Shannon in the same breath, because nobody will ever measure up to Charlene.

  There’s no way out of this mess, because no matter what, I’m losing her.

  I drink myself into oblivion, just to try to dull the feeling flowing through my body. I can barely walk when I finally lift myself from my chair and stagger toward the exit. I'm still feeling every bit of pain that I was before, only now it’s mixed with regret and guilt and a whole lot of other emotions that drinking too much has made surface.

  I feel like I'm locked up in a cage that I can't escape. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't do anything. All I can do is think about her.

  Back at the hotel, I climb onto the bed, still fully clothed. I stare above me and groan. I'm in no condition to try to figure out anything right now.

  Closing my eyes, I eventually pass out.

  I wake up the next morning with a killer headache and just as much regret as I went to sleep with. It’s Monday morning, so I should be at work, but I'm not going in. Mainly because I can't bring myself to face her yet.

  I pick up my phone, remembering that there were messages from her last night. They were in the background, because I refused to read them. But now, they are on the front of my screen, leaving me no other choice but to acknowledge them.

  There are three of them, each of them more angry and annoyed than the last. I frown and toss my phone across the room. I know I need to talk to her, but the problem is I don't know how.

  I have a shower, hoping to find some clarity, but it leaves me feeling the same, only cleaner. I sigh and lay back down, closing my eyes. A few more minutes sleep might help this headache go. Maybe then I can work out what to say to her.

  I open my eyes and groan as someone pounds on my door. Housekeeping knows by now not to bother me, especially this early. Which leaves Charlene or my family. I put my money on it being either Rex or Nate. They’ve both been here before. I walk over to the door, ready to face them. Nate and Rex stand there when I fling it open.

  At least they didn't bring my mother.

  “What do you want?” I grumble.

  I walk back into the room, allowing them to follow me in. They do, closing the door b
ehind them.

  “What are you doing?” Nate asks, shaking his head. “They called to say you hadn’t come into work? I spoke to Charlene, and she hasn’t seen you since yesterday. Are you having some kind of breakdown? I mean, do you need help or something?” Nate stands by the edge of the bed, glaring down at me. “Honestly, Matt. I’m worried. You look like shit.”

  “Well, there's your answer then,” I mutter. “Congratulations. I feel like shit too. Now, can you get the hell out of my room?”

  “Not until you tell us what's going on. Has something happened with Charlene?” Nate asks, perplexed.

  “Charlene isn't part of the puzzle anymore,” I say, my voice cold.

  “What?” Rex growls. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “What the fuck does it sound like it means?” I mumble. “She won't be playing any further part in this joke of a marriage.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Nate asks. “You’ve seriously fucked this up for everyone?”

  “Look, it was a mistake asking her in the first place,” I growl. “I'll fix it. I'll just get Shannon back on board.”

  “And who the fuck is Shannon?” Rex laughs.

  I glare at him. “The woman I asked originally. She said yes. She jumped at the chance of marrying me, without even hearing the terms, so I know she won't be a problem.”

  “Man, you’ve got eight weeks left. You can't divorce Charlene and marry someone else and still have time to get her pregnant, allowing for a full term pregnancy. You need to make Charlene make good on what she promised.”

  “This has nothing to do with her,” I growl, my body tensing. “And don't even get it in your head to try to be a hero by approaching her. Leave her out of this, and just leave alone me to clean up this mess, okay?”

  Nate shakes his head. “You think I don’t know how you work, Matt? We leave this room now, you’ll drink some more, you'll pass out, and you’ll lose a few valuable days that we might need to fix your mess.”