Look After Me (39 page)

He continues, oblivious to my emotional torture. “She was my fucking everything and she kicked me to the curb like I was nothing. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without her. She’s like the air I breathe. How do you stop breathing when your body is urging you to continue? How do you just stop? How the fuck do you
stop?
” His voice begins to tremble with anger, and like a demon possessed he suddenly rises to his feet, picks the coffee table up and launches it into the television with a loud bang. My entire body jolts at the sound, my heartbeat racing violently in my chest as I watch him destroy his living room, breaking everything within his reach. Unable to sit back and watch the apartment be obliterated right in front of me, I place the glass of water on the floor, and hurriedly get to my feet, towards him.

“Sebastian!” He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t even hear me as he continues to smash everything within his reach. “Sebastian!” Carelessly, I step in his line of fire and take his clenched face within my fingers. “Sebastian, stop it!” His eyes angrily land on mine, his nostrils flaring, but the moment he sees me, his anger dissolves somewhat. “Destroying everything in your wake isn’t going to solve anything. It’s just going to make you feel worse. Please calm down,” I say as gently as possible, using my calming tone to develop a calming aura for him.

A few moments pass by, and slowly I can see his eyes filling with unshed tears. I hate the way it makes me feel. It’s excruciating.
Gut-wrenching.
Swallowing my emotions, I pierce my eyes into his brown eyes. “I get that you’re hurt, I get that you’re angry, and I’m so sorry she’s marrying somebody else, but you need to find a way to get over her. It’s the only way to free you of this pain and misery.”

His eyes clench shut and the lines crease along his forehead. He suddenly tears himself from my fierce grip and turns away from me, his shoulders rising and falling. That’s when I notice that the towel he had wrapped around his waist is no longer covering his ass, which must have somehow dropped during his moment of fury.

He turns around. “I’ve messed up again, haven’t I?” He sounds defeated.

I take slow, steady steps towards him, shaking my head. “No, you’ve just had a setback.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” he snaps. “I’m such a fuck up. I get in a fight and get arrested. And on top of having a possible criminal record, Ava’s getting married. She’s getting fucking married.”

“You got arrested?” I gasp, but he ignores my question, almost like I’m invisible.

“God, this isn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t supposed to be my life! I just want to be able to forget. I need to forget she ever existed. I want my life back, the one where I’m able to function without her. Breathe without her. Live without her. But I don’t know how to get it back. She was my life for four years, how do I turn it off?”

I look at him helplessly. I’m the professional, I should have an answer, but I don’t. There is never an answer when it comes to love. If there were, I would have told him a solution by now. I would have taken the pain away.

“I don’t know, Sebastian,” I sigh, not sure what else to say. He charges at me, bracing his hands against my face.

“Help me forget, please. Help me forget everything, just for a moment. You’re the only person who can. Please. I need you.”

I furiously shake my head, trying to push away as thoughts of that hussy bitch sucking his dick comes to the forefront of my mind. “No, Sebastian.”

She was sucking his dick.
She was sucking his dick.

“Please, I need you.”

Tears begin to blur my vision and I slam my eyes shut. “Sebastian, I can’t, you—”

My insides melt, unable to resist the taste of his minty fresh lips as they press against mine. “I need to forget. Please let me forget,” he trembles against my lips.

I want to make him forget too, desperately so, but I know sex isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to magically make his broken heart disappear. He has this habit of burying his problems with temporary fixes that only make him feel good for short amounts of time. I’m not the answer to his problems, just like cocaine and alcohol aren’t, and I’m worried I’ve become his addiction. That our relationship or whatever the hell you want to call it has become a drug to him. A quick fix. A way to help him forget. But I’m also worried that he’s become my addiction too; in a way that’s bigger than any addiction to drugs.

I tell myself that I need to push him away, that I need to put some space between us, but as the heat quickly escalates, any sensible thought has gone right out of the window. He pushes me down onto the sofa where he wastes no time stripping me from my Hello Kitty pajamas and underwear until I’m completely naked. He makes his way down my stomach, kissing and biting before his face is level with my pussy. He dives straight in, feasting on me like a starved man who hasn’t eaten for months. At first it feels incredible—so incredible that my entire body shudders as he brings me to my climax. But when I come down from my high, his moves turn careless; almost painful as he pulls me off the sofa and flips me on to my knees.

His fingernails pierce into my hips before he slams inside of me, causing me to cry out, but it’s not with pleasure. My entire body clenches as he drives in and out of me and I hate how this feels. Like I’m having sex with a complete stranger. His touch has always been animalistic and intense, but it’s never been as emotionless as it feels right now. Since we started our friends with benefits relationship, not once has he ever made me feel used. But he’s fucking me like I’m some nameless slut from a sleazy bar, and it’s hard to feel anything else.

I tell myself to relax and enjoy it but once the tears begin to fall down my face, it’s impossible. He’s being carelessly rough with me, and he’s so lost within his own hatred that I don’t think it’s registered in that beautiful mind of his that this isn’t enjoyable for me. I don’t think it’s enjoyable for him either. This is his way of trying to bury the pain, but what he doesn’t realize is that trying to bury his pain is only hurting me in the process.

This isn’t us. We’re more than this. We’re more than just sex. When we’re together, it’s incredible,
explosive,
but right now I don’t feel any of that. Instead, I feel as broken as him. When he slams into me one last time, whispering Ava’s name over and over, a sob breathlessly escapes from me and my body trembles.

Once he’s climaxed, his tight grip eases and his fingertips trail lazily down my bare back. The loving side of him has returned. Hating the way his fingers feel after such aggression, I cower away, my shoulders shaking with my uncontrollable sobs as I bury my face in the sofa, crying loudly.

“Addison?”

His voice shakes in a vulnerable way and it only adds to the pressure of my violent cries. A howling cry escapes and when he calls my name again, I turn my head to look at him, heated tears rolling down my face. He pales when he sees me. His face the look of pure heartbreak as he takes in my face covered with my tears. He goes to touch me, but I instinctively cower away from him again, unable to bear his touch.

“Oh God.” His chin trembles, torture enhancing his facial features, painfully so. “Addison, I’m sorry. I . . .” His eyes clench shut and my sobs rocket through me more fiercely when I see tears rolling down his face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

Shaking my head, I clumsily get to my feet, covering myself up with my arms. “I can’t do this.” I tremble hysterically before rushing towards the bathroom, locking myself inside. I drop myself down on the toilet seat and bury my hands in my hair as my cries wreck through me.

After I’ve barricaded myself in Sebastian’s bathroom for God knows how long and lost control of my emotions. I finally exit, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, my hair dripping wet from the shower.

I pause when I see a clean pair of Sebastian’s sweat pants and a t-shirt in a neat pile in front of the door. I inwardly smile at his sweetness but not wanting to be engulfed with his masculine scent—a scent that drives me dizzy with an overwhelming lust—I bypass the clean clothes and search for my pajamas.

Expecting to be met with the aftermath of the earlier emotional earthquake, I’m surprised to find the living room looks perfect—minus the coffee table, television screen and a few other valuables. I search the space around me, but I don’t see Sebastian.

Spotting my pink Hello Kitty Pajamas and panties in a neat pile on the sofa, I quickly change into them. I head into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, eagerly taking a much-anticipated gulp of icy-cold water before downing the entire thing in one, clearly dehydrated from crying. Grabbing a second bottle, I search for Sebastian. It doesn’t take me long to find him fast asleep on top of his bed, snoring lightly, the creases along his forehead now smoothed out. Knowing how everything will change the moment he wakes up, I embrace this moment and lay beside him, watching him sleep. Just watching him, so beautifully handsome, makes my heart ache. I told myself I could just be friends with him; that we could have a friends with benefits relationship without things getting complicated. But then I began to fall for him and everything changed.

I was supposed to help him; I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. God, it’s so tragic—being in love with a guy who’s completely in love with somebody else. And he has absolutely no idea how I feel. He knows something is happening between us, but I don’t think he realizes how intense my feelings for him are. I always found him quite alluring during our counseling sessions in rehab, but outside of rehab, my feelings for him intensified—something that I’ve never felt with another man. And during the past couple of weeks, ever since Thanksgiving, I’ve felt the sudden shift from lust to love. Then on Wednesday, when he said he was unable to let me go, I thought maybe there was a chance for us; that we could be more than just friends.

But I was stupid.

As his counselor, I’ve been trying to find a way to fix his broken heart, but all I’ve managed to do is break my own. This had disaster written all over it. I knew that from day one, but I still put my heart on the line. Now I’m staring at the man I’m hopelessly in love with, a man I have absolutely no future with, wishing that things were different. If only he could open his eyes to the love that’s right in front of him but he’s choosing not to see it.

He’s been completely blindsided by Ava, and unfortunately, he can’t look any further than her. He may say I help him forget, but when he calls out her name while having sex with me, I know I can’t compete with her. He has her on this pedestal—so high—that nobody can ever come close to being her, and without her, his world is incomplete. And I can’t be that girl who lives behind the shadow of somebody else. I can’t be that person. I just can’t. I deserve to feel love. The epic kind of love that musicians write about in their music. The love of a romantic fairy tale.

As I take in every inch of Sebastian’s face, I know without a doubt that I will never be enough for him. I know the feelings he has for me are strong, but it will never be love because love isn’t a destined path for us.

It never has been.

I FEEL MYSELF BEGINNING to wake, but the pounding in my head keeps my eyes closed. The more my head pounds, the more I keep remembering. And the more I remember, the more I want to forget.

Calling Lola. Watching Lola snort cocaine. Slamming shots of Jack each time I craved cocaine. Slamming more Jack. Starting on my third bottle of Jack and realizing I couldn’t feel my lips but could still, in fact, see Ava’s face. Lola going down on me. Addison pushing Lola off me. Addison yelling at Lola. Me vomiting A LOT. Thinking I’ve died and gone to heaven when I awaken to Addison’s angelic face looking at me. Me trashing my apartment. Me feasting on Addison’s pussy. Fucking Ava into an oblivion. Realizing after my euphoria that I was, in fact, fucking Addison and not Ava. Remembering calling out Ava’s name. Witnessing the broken look on Addison’s face as the tears rolled down her face.

I groan out loud at the memories that fill my mind.

I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up badly.

Feeling like somebody is watching me, I open my eyes. Addison is sitting at the end of the bed with her legs crossed and a pensive look on her face. A look that has my heart racing and not in the good way.