Unbind (29 page)

While I told Cai about the cock and the way the guy shoved it all the way in my friend, whose body was quite incredible by the way, I stroked Cai to get him ready. He slid his fingers inside me and made me extremely wet. We got in the same position I’d seen Kay in that night and Cai fucked me, exactly like Rob had done to Kay. I loved every minute of it. We cuddled up afterwards and I told him, “You’re the best sex of my life.”

“I want to please you in every way. There’s just something I need to tell you.”

“Something serious this time? Or are you—” He pressed a finger to my lips.

“Serious.” His face paled. “My parents had a nasty relationship. I was eight when I first saw him spanking a whole bunch of women. They played sex games in our home and I’m not talking about the kind Klaus engages his women in. I’m talking about the truly sadistic stuff of nightmares.”

I pressed my lips together, unable to stop myself frowning. “You were eight?”

“They were loud. I saw through a gap in a door.”

“Eight?”

He nodded slowly. “I swore I never wanted any of that for myself. I only wanted something real. I never loved Jackie… I never loved anyone ’til you.”

“Me either,” I hastened to add, and kissed all his pain away.

I spent my last day in New York feeling absolutely sick. How could I leave? Why would I want to? Trevor spent the day (between meetings and conference calls and lunch and tours) repeatedly asking me whether I would seriously consider a move to New York. I told him in all honesty, I wasn’t sure, but I’d think about it. I
was
thinking about it. Yet every atom in me screamed, “I don’t want this job. I don’t want this.”

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but I’d always gone with my intuition before and it had served me well, or so I thought. I knew in my heart, something wasn’t right. The circumstances didn’t line up properly, not for me. I wasn’t ready.

The flight back was at seven p.m. so we knocked off work at three and headed to the hotel to pick up our luggage. Instead of the minibus, Cai drove me to the airport. He insisted.

We rode most of the way there in our usual silence. A tenuous passion zapped between us which didn’t allow for all that much talking. We were playing the role of new lovers so deeply, the only way we knew to communicate was with our bodies. I wanted to ask him so much but I was frightened of his answers. Scared of his denial if I asked for more than he was willing to divulge.

What did he hide beneath his glacial surface? What was lying beneath that sea of tranquillity that flowed on the surface but bubbled torrentially deep beneath?

He parked in the short-stay at JFK and rolled my suitcase inside the terminal for me. Why I already wanted to cry, I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the end of the world, nor us, I hoped. I just felt, bereft.

I got rid of my bag while he waited on a seat nearby and with my ticket and passport in hand, my hand luggage over one shoulder, I walked toward him sobbing already. He stood quickly and opened his arms. I walked into them blindly, just so desperate for his embrace. I cried my heart out and he soothed me, “There’s no need to cry. C’mon.”

“We’ll keep in touch?”

“Every day,” he reassured me.

“Yeah?” I rubbed my face in his collar.

“Every day. I promise.” He pulled back and looked into my eyes, rubbing my tears away. His sparkled blue and green, his lips tipping into a smile at one side. “Chloe, I love you. Do you believe me? I love Chloe Harmon!” he shouted, so loudly people did look.

Does this happen often
? I briefly thought, as I jumped on him and wrapped my legs around his waist. Do airports witness this kind of shit daily?

We kissed so sweetly, lapping and caressing, until my core ached with love for him. We gasped and clawed. When we got out of breath, my feet fell to the floor and I buried myself in his chest. I held his body so tight and he mine.

Screw everything. He loved me. It blasted all the damp spirits I’d let cloak me all day long.

“Cai?”

“Yeah?” He pulled back to stare at me.

“I love you.”

He whispered in my ear, “Don’t look now but we were just snapped. It’ll be everywhere by sundown. ‘Heir goes crazy for love in airport’ … who cares?”

“I couldn’t give a shit. Tell me again.”

“I love you. Ridiculously.”

I burst out laughing, the relief palpable. “I had the most horrendous day thinking about what if we never saw each other again!”

“You’re insane.” He rolled his eyes.

We spent half an hour sat on a bench in the reception hall, not caring if people were looking. All I saw was him. We promised to be in touch often and without hesitation. We’d figure it out, we repeated. We’d know what to do when the time was right.

I ached for him and might easily have stayed there and tossed everything else to the wind. Yet I couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. I had a job I enjoyed in London.

“Working in London full-time isn’t an option for you?”

“Not long term. I could get there every few weeks but most of the time, I’m either here or have to travel elsewhere. With the gallery up and running, I made New York my base and it’d be smarter for you to stay with me, here.”

I nodded, more to myself than him. “I understand. Listen, if they offer me a job, I really will consider it. I just… can’t promise anything.”

“We’ll figure this out, Chloe. I love you. Long term, you’re the only one I wanna be with.”

“Okay,” I breathed deeply. “Okay.”

“I mean it… you and me.” His eyes glistened and drooped. He covered his face with his hands and I reached for him, pulling him into my neck.

“Okay. I meant it, too.”

“Yeah, well.” He grumbled, fighting his emotion. Big man crying. First time for everything in my world.

I stroked the hair at his temples, caressing the shell of his ear as I tucked his dark strands away. “You took my V too, Cai.”

“Did I?” His voice sounded shaky.

“No man ever told me they loved me before.”

“Nobody?” He whimpered.

“Nobody.”

“Jesus.”

“No other man.”

“Oh, man.” He nodded against my chest. I had him resting on my rack like he was soon going to nurse.

“If I need you… will you come? If it gets bad… would you?” I beseeched his honesty.

“Bad?” His head shot up.

We eyed one another, our eyes flickering and assessing.

“Some days I get really sad when I think about things too much. It might get worse now I know you’re in love with me, because living without you will kill me.”

I shook my head from side to side and repeatedly mouthed
I’m sorry, I’m sorry
…

Encased tightly against his chest, he became commanding and ordered me, “You won’t be without me, god damn it. I’m carrying your heart with me always. In everything I do or say, I’m always thinking about you and whether you hurt. If I have to think of you like this, I’ll go crazy. I’m with you even when we’re apart. I’m holding your hand as you walk to work, stirring your coffee in the morning, smiling at you across the office. I’m always hoping you’re happy… it’s what I want more than anything else in the world. I want it. I want us to make the right decisions, the best choices. This will never be over. It’s only just beginning.”

I didn’t know what I had done to deserve him, nor what I would feel like when we were officially separated by an ocean once more, but I knew every pain before then, every moment of dull numbness, every misspent hour—had led me right to him.

We stood from our seats and kissed for minutes I lost count of. I cried all throughout, clinging on for every last morsel I could get.

We pulled away and a nod from me said I had to go. I couldn’t delay any longer or I’d miss my flight.

“Call me when you land, or I’ll call you in the morning?”

“Yes,” I said and attempted to smile. “Yes.”

“I love you,” he shouted as I walked away.

Some people nearby clapped and hollered. I walked my way backwards, toward the security gates. I blew him a kiss and as soon as I was through the scanners and passport control, I donned by big sunglasses and sat next to Trevor in the boarding lounge.

“Don’t ask?”

“Yep,” I replied.

The man I once thought of as grumpy, heartless and caustic was anything but, I had come to learn. He reached for my hand and held it while silent tears rushed down my cheeks, unnoticed by anyone except me.

I thought of all my time in the city and of the experiences I’d shared with Cai. My heart could have burst. Glittery memories cascaded through my mind and my heart filled with love. So much love.

I quickly texted him:
I’m so in love with you, Cai.x

He responded immediately:
I’m thinking of you and I know you’ll be sad, but I won’t let you down. We’ll make this work, girl. I love you too much. xxx

I switched my phone off. We were boarding and I knew he’d be watching the plane take off, waving me away.

I got to my seat and hid my face, crying until I fell asleep. A mixture of emotions overwhelmed me, some I’d never felt before. Happiness wasn’t without its fears, its pits and trap falls. I felt anxious to embrace it when all I’d known, for quite some time, was solitariness. All it had taken was for someone like Klaus to come along and finally say, “You’re in the wrong place,”—to make me realise where I had been going wrong for so long.

That’s what got to me—was life spinning a fateful curve, or was destiny influenced by the decisions we made, and how well we executed them? I felt an incredible weight on me not to let Cai get away. I also felt some uncertainty that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t explain either.

I GOT BACK home to my room in that shared house and wondered why the fuck I was rooming with other people, at my age. Oh yeah, London was mad expensive. Cai had a whole condo to himself, in Brooklyn no less. A loft with a huge studio/gallery attached! The stark differences in our worlds were exactly that. How could I blend myself into his existence? I didn’t feel as though I belonged anywhere and I was frightened.

I spent my time washing clothes, catching up on sleep, texting Cai when I found a lucid moment. Otherwise I cried and I didn’t exactly know what for. I started writing lists. One detailed the pros and cons of working in the New York office (that was if they offered me a job, it wasn’t a given).

Unfortunately I found a pad of post-its in my bag from New York and then it got a little wild. I wrote down all the things I loved about Cai, covering a whole wall with my words. On the opposite wall of my bedroom, I stuck the only con—
his silences
. During those I often wondered what he was thinking or feeling. It always made me so relieved when he turned around and said something nice to me at the end of one of those silences. I was careful to lock my room to prevent anyone seeing my shrine to Cai—it would have been impossible to take down—even though it was all sappy stuff.

On Sunday I caught the tube to Covent Garden to do some shopping. Everywhere I looked, I saw things I wanted to buy him, show him, laugh about with him. It only made me more sad. In my mind, I couldn’t slot myself into a role he obviously had in mind for me—the woman who’s there but never asks questions, the live-in girlfriend who’s happy to be looked after.

My mind was a riot of anxiety and tension. There were other concerns surfacing that I couldn’t afford to face. Shutting myself off to love so many years had kept me sane. Now, it was threatening to undo me. My instincts told me his ghosts were worse than mine and—I’d have to put someone else first. It terrified me and galvanised me equally. Anyone who knew me before I got my head smashed open would have told you I was the best friend you could have had. I’d always be there. If there was anyone you could rely on, it was me. I was protective, fiercely loyal, the one person people knew was solid and sorted. I was there with bells on to defend my kin and I’d fight to the death for those I loved. In fact, I almost had. Look where it got me. So I changed tactics after they treated me as an outsider. I became indifferent, unreachable. The opposite. Being the solid and dependable type—it’d never gotten me anything but heartache. My true self was a defender of my loved ones but I’d transmogrified into a woman who liked to have fun and didn’t take into consideration how she might be hurting other people. Not until Cai. Not until I saw a similar, devastating event lurking beneath his placid exterior. It had shaped him, like mine had shaped me.