Awaken Me (The Jaded Series Book 4) (44 page)

I am so fucked-up in the head. How can I still want a man that has treated me like less than dirt? A man that hated me for only trying to help him. A man that demanded I give my baby away. Why is it I feel a connection to him and why can’t I break that connection once and for all? Why can’t I look at him and only see disgust? And why, when I see the same pain I feel on his face, I want to find a way to wipe it away. It hurts to see the same pain in his eyes. He truly looks remorseful for what he said, but how can I know it’s the truth? I want to walk away, but something holds me back. A force I can’t comprehend. Although I know he hurts for what happened to Anna, it doesn’t give him a right to treat me the way he has. But why do I feel this uncontrollable need to let him back in after all he’s done?

So many questions. All I know for sure is that I
do
feel a connection for him and it’s something I can’t just forget. Something won’t let me.

Instead of walking past me out the door, he stops in front of me about a foot away.

I’m shocked speechless when he drops to his knees on the floor at my feet. He sits back on his feet with his hands on his thighs. Staring up at me with so much anguish, he says, “I hate myself for saying those things to you, Sugar.” I close my eyes at the nickname. He continues when I open them again. “I swear I didn’t mean them. There’s no way I could ever want you to give up our baby. I regretted them as soon as I said them. But I was just so scared. No, I didn’t ask or want you to get pregnant, but five minutes after I left you, the fear disappeared and a fierce need took hold. I would have never resented you, Chris.
Never
! Because I wanted the baby, too.” He finishes by grabbing my thighs and placing his cheek on my stomach, right where the baby would have been. I feel wetness through my t-shirt from his tears.

I don’t know how to react to his confession. I’m not ready to believe him yet. I’m not ready to let go of the pain he’s caused me.

“I can’t, Nick,” I tell him through a thick throat. “I just want to be left alone.”

God, those words sound so familiar. He’s said them to me numerous times, and I fear he’ll do what I did when he uttered them. Ignore them and be persistent.

“And I can’t do that, Chris.” His voice is hoarse as he talks, as if it hurts him to speak. “I can’t leave you alone, especially not now. Not when you need me the most. Hate me, scream at me, ignore me, but I won’t leave. I can’t.”

“Nick—” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.

“Please, Chris,” he begs, looking up at me with such anguish.

I swallow the lump in my throat before telling him, “I need time. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you. I’ve never had someone hurt me as much as you have.”

He nods and looks up at me, his cheeks wet from tears. “I can give you time. But I’m staying here while you have it. I’m not leaving you alone through this, but I’ll back away and give you space.”

I don’t know if I want to scream at him or drop to my knees and throw my arms around his neck. He has me so confused right now.

I do neither. I nod and back up a step until he’s forced to let my legs go. I hate seeing the dejected look on his face. He climbs to his feet and runs both hands down his tired-looking face, wiping away the tears.

“You should get some sleep,” I tell him.

“I will. After I make you something to eat,” he responds.

The thought of food turns my stomach. I shake my head. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat, Chris,” he says, walking out the door, essentially dismissing me. Gritting my teeth, I follow him.

“I don’t want to eat, Nick. I’ll get something later,” I reply firmly.

He stops and turns to me once he reaches the living room. “I’m making you a sandwich. Can you at least eat half of it? Please.”

Ready for this conversation to end so I can go back to bed and wallow some more, I give in. Besides, I don’t remember the last time I ate, and I’m starting to feel the effects of it. As much as I want to wither away, I know I need to keep my strength up. Bailey called the school for me to let them know what’s going on. They gave me two weeks off, which is more time than I would have asked for. I’m already not looking forward to going back out in to the world again.

Relief flashes in Nick’s eyes when I nod. He goes to the kitchen, while I go back to my safe haven. I crawl back in bed and hug my pillow. I’m lying so I’m facing the pillow that Nick used. I reach out and lay my hand on it. It still feels warm. His smell fills my nose and it brings tears to my eyes. I squeeze them closed to push the tears away. I’m so tired of crying. There can’t be much liquid left in my body, because all I’ve done lately is lie in my bed and cry. It’s pathetic, but the heart feels what it wants. And right now it wants the baby it lost and the man who will likely destroy it.

Nick

I quietly push open Chris’s bedroom door with my foot and carry the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast over to her nightstand and set it down. I put the coffee beside it. I look down at the sleeping form on the bed and my chest tightens. Watching her sleep has become one of my favorite things to do. I almost enjoy it as much as watching her when she’s awake. Right now she looks peaceful, like she didn’t just have her world ripped apart a week and a half ago.

I hate to wake her up; she doesn’t get enough sleep as it is, I think because of her dreams, but she needs to eat. She only eats when I force her to. I’ve been here for a week and all she does is sit in her room. I’ve done what I told her I would and left her alone, except when I make her eat. I’m wondering if I shouldn’t, though. Sitting by herself with her thoughts can’t be good. The others still come by daily, but she won’t come out to visit them. And when they go to her room, she feigns sleep. I know she’s faking because her eyes always look tired and swollen from lack of sleep. I know the symptoms intimately.

Everyone else is just as worried as I am. We all expected for her to go into a depressive state, but this goes beyond that. It’s like she has no will to try and move past it. It’s only been a little over a week, and none of us expect her to get over it in that short time, but she’s made no progress, except for the unacknowledged shaky truce between us. Her eyes always appear dead. I hate the look and it breaks my heart every time I see it.

Jase came by with Bailey and Andrew the day after I snuck my way into Chris’s apartment. To say he was livid when he saw me on the couch watching TV is putting it mildly. It was only Andrew that stopped him from rushing me. I wouldn’t have stopped him. I deserve everything he wants to throw at me. I hurt his sister in a way that nearly destroyed her. I can’t imagine anything would have stopped me from pummeling the guy’s face had it been my sister. He still hates me; I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me, but he knows I’m the only one Chris hasn’t made leave, and he knows I’m the one who needs to be here. I’ve been in Chris’s shoes. I’ve lost someone I loved with all my heart. I know what’s running through Chris’s mind, and I know how to get her out of her funk. It’s the same thing she did for me. Persistence, and letting her know she’s not alone. He despises it, but holds his tongue for Chris’s sake. I would have stayed regardless, but it makes things much easier with him not trying to force me to go.

I’m still not sure how deep my feelings are for her, but I do know it physically hurts to see her in so much pain and withdrawn. I don’t know why Chris hasn’t kicked me out. I’m just grateful she hasn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered, though. I would have just ended up back in the hallway across from her door.

Although she says she doesn’t blame me for her losing the baby, I still blame myself. The others have told me the doctor said our argument had nothing to do with the miscarriage, but I can’t help but feel it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t reacted the way I did. We’ll never know. I would give up anything to go back and do things differently. I’d give anything to have our baby back safe in Chris’s stomach.

I gently sit on the side of the bed. She’s facing me. Her hair is fanned out behind her, except for a few strands that’ve fallen on her face, over her lips. I run my finger along her cheek and push the strands away. She licks her lips in her sleep, and I feel it in my groin. One hand is tucked beneath her cheek while the other clutches a pillow to her chest. I wish so hard I could lie down and gather her in my arms. Every night I sleep on the couch is torture. I just want to hold her and give her the comfort she needs to make it through this. And if I’m honest with myself, I want the comfort of her arms around me too.

Her brows pucker and she moans in her sleep. There’ve been a couple times I’ve caught her in the middle of a dream. It splinters my heart every time. She shouldn’t have nightmares. Her life should always be easy and carefree. It’s not logical, but she should never have to worry about anything. Chris deserves and should have a worry-free life.

She shifts on the bed and a second later her eyes slowly open. They look soft at the moment, and I want to push Pause and keep that look on her face always. I wish she always looked at me that way. She gives me a small smile in her half sleeping state before she snatches that little glimpse of heaven away from me.

Before she can tell me to leave, I get up off the bed and gesture to the plate and coffee mug.

“I’ve brought you breakfast.”

She looks from me to the plate on her nightstand, then back to me. She’s stopped fighting me on the whole eating issue. Once she realized it wasn’t something I was going to back down on, she finally gave up. She pushes herself up until her back is against the headboard. Her hair is a tangled mess and she has dark rings around her eyes, but to me, she’s still breathtaking.

I grab the plate once she’s situated and set it on her lap. “I’ll come back for it later. Get dressed when you get done. We’re going out.”

I turn to walk out and hope she doesn’t protest. It was a futile hope. She mutters, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

I close my eyes and sigh deeply. Chris hasn’t been very cooperative lately. She’s actually been outright stubborn. She’s usually easygoing and doesn’t care much about what’s going on as long as we’re all having fun. This person is a grouch. I don’t blame her, but I miss the old Chris.

She has a piece of bacon at her lips when I turn to face her. It’s no surprise to see her still wearing my shirt. It was at first, but every day I’ve been here, she’s had one. I had Jaxon stop by my place to grab me some clothes the other day. She must have gone through my bag and grabbed one. I don’t know why she wears them, but it gives me hope. And if it helps her in some way, then she can have all my shirts. I haven’t asked her about it and she hasn’t brought it up.

“You need to get out of the house, Sugar.” She winces at the nickname I gave her. She does every time I use it now. It hurts knowing that it bothers her, when before when I said it, her eyes would go soft. “It’s not good to stay in all the time. You need the fresh air.”

“I don’t want the fresh air. I just want to be left alone,” she mumbles over her cup.

“Well, that’s not happening,” I tell her sternly. “I’m not going to let you wither away in your bed. When you get done eating, get dressed into something warm. It’s snowing outside.”

I see interest light her eyes. Chris is from the south where they don’t get snow. She was here last winter, but unfortunately it was a mild one and we got hardly any. The interest falls flat a moment later and she just glares at me. I hold her stare until she’s forced to look away. I don’t care if she’s mad. I’m done being cautious around her. She needs a firm hand, and I’m the one to give it to her.

Chris doesn’t say anything else, just picks up another slice of bacon and crunches down on it. She’s dropped her eyes from mine and is instead looking at the wall beside me.

Sighing, I walk out of her room and to the kitchen to eat my own breakfast. I wish she would come out here to eat with me, but anytime I suggest it, she shuts it down immediately, insisting she wants to stay in her room. If I force the issue, she throws a fit.

Finishing my now cold bacon and eggs, I wash the dirty dishes and wipe down the counters. After, I make a couple phone calls to Kevin, my foreman. I pulled him from the site in Kentucky and put him with the West Virginia project so I wouldn’t need to cancel with the client. It’s a big job and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to put my bid in, but there was no way I was leaving Chris. Kevin has been handling things. So far it looks promising, but we won’t find out for sure for another couple days.

It’s been forty-five minutes and Chris hasn’t shown her face. It shouldn’t take her that long to eat and dress. Worried she may be being ornery; I decide to go check on her.

As I pass the bathroom, I catch sight of Chris inside through the gap left by the slightly ajar door. She has a towel wrapped around her with the end tucked between her breasts. Her dry hair is piled on top of her head with a few loose wet curls fallen free from the hair tie. Her creamy white shoulders are on display. Her face, which hasn’t had much color lately, has a stunning flush to it from her shower. I can’t help the twitch my dick gives.