Fiancée for Rent by Elizabeth Grey

Chapter 25

Kylie

In a bit of a better headspace on Black Friday, the over-the-counter meds killing the headache I'd woken up with, I sat in front of the television, munching popcorn as I searched for a movie to watch. As I flipped through the channels, I hoped for something old, sappy, crushing to mirror the way my own emotions bubbled up to the surface, then spilled from my eyes in a few tiny tears from time to time. A good cry would wash it all away. Yet, on my third round through the channels, one had not magically appeared for me, so I took in the options that ranged from horror to action. I figured if I couldn't get a good cry, a good scare could do the trick as well to get me out of my head.

I caught a flash of Liam's voice, his face, then reversed course through the channels to find him again. Liam Hendrix has another hit on his hands, the caption beneath it read. At first, I didn't hear a word he said as I looked him over, searched for a sign, a signal, as to how he felt about me, as ridiculous of a notion as I knew that to be.

"Desperate woman," I chided myself.

Still, my heart rate soared, and my stomach clenched while other parts of me warmed, swelled, remembering the way that body felt against me Inside of me. His black jeans had a snug fit to show off his trim look. The simple white t-shirt hugged the muscles of his biceps, showing off the tattoos on his forearms. I imagined what it must be like to lounge in bed with the man all day after a night of lovemaking, my only task to outline each black mark with a finger until he made love to me again.

I'd spent a lot of time admiring the ink when we were together. A thick bracelet around his wrist he'd told me the links were script words, the lyrics to his most infamous song. He had an angel that sprinkled down musical notes from her hands, an homage to the gift of music he'd gotten from his mother. One of his father's iconic monsters paralleled the angel on the other. With his hands clasped together, they both stood out, took me back to sitting by him or across from him, talking, getting to know each other, having forced myself not to be witness to the emotions he'd rekindled within me. They fired on all cylinders now.

His hair had grown a bit longer than the last time I'd seen him in person. These days, he wore it with blond tips. My thumb brushed over my fingertips as I longed to run my hands through it. At the same time, my lip had protested the fierce bite I had going on, having captured the skin between my teeth, silencing some scream, swallowing a whimper.

"Pathetic," I spat out, eyes glued to the screen.

"I have to be honest, much of the album I owe to Kylie," Liam said. My name on his lips stopped my heart, rang in my ears, made me question if I'd heard it at all.

I plopped to the floor from the couch and scooted across the carpet at record speed to end up on my knees in front of the television, my hands gripping the cheap stand made to resemble wood.

"Your ex-fiancée? Been a long time since your two names were uttered together. Please, tell me more," the ruthless reporter begged as he pushed his microphone closer to Liam's lips.

"She's an amazing woman," he stated as he grabbed the mic in a purely defensive move to stop it from hitting him. "And while we hit a bump that ended our story together, the time we did get inspired me not only to write again but to grow up, to heal old wounds, to become a better man. I wouldn't be this person before you now had I not had the privilege of getting to know her."

"Wow, so is there a future then for the both of you?"

"I don't know, but I'd be open to trying again. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit, but if I'd have been a better man when I was with her, maybe I wouldn't have let her get away. But she taught me not only what a true family looks like but that I shouldn't care so much what others think. And, most importantly, she taught me to face my demons rather than avoid them, drink them away. I've done so much work, and I let that work, those life lessons, flow through my music. I'm glad everyone is enjoying it."

"It's raw. I think you've taught us all some lessons, struck some chords in everyone who has gotten to listen to it."

I grabbed at my runaway heart as it soared with hope, only to touch David's necklace. A strike of lightning ripped through me. With a breath-stealing realization, I knew I had to say goodbye to him for good. I would never forget, but until I let go of the necklace, I wouldn't be free to love again truly. And, I did love again. As if I could hear his voice in my ears, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd want me to be happy, to move on. He would not have been happy to see me so alone, so cut off from the type of relationship we might have shared had he lived. He'd want so much better for me than I'd allowed. My parents, siblings, friends, and friends had all said the same thing to me at one point or another. However, I'd been too ashamed, too riddled with guilt to hear it. Bittersweet and hopeful tears ran down my face as I jumped up to grab a sweater and my car keys.

By the time I hit the Santa Monica pier, the wind had picked up, and I wrapped my arms around myself for protection as the chill it carried snuck through my thick cabled sweater. While oranges and yellows still glowed brightly on the horizon, the touch of pinks and purples lined the clouds in the darkening sky over the violet ocean. As I heard my slow, methodical footfalls on the wood, bathed in the rhythmic sound of the tides, I remembered being here with David. The way his lips had felt pressed against mine tingled along my skin, a memory came to life. I let my tears shed the bad memories, so I could hold onto, to store away, the good. He'd been a friend, a lover, a main source of support for so many years in my life that I didn't know how to live without him. Liam had come in with an offer and given me more than I bargained for. He'd taught me that I could indeed love again. Loving someone alive, someone willing to share my life didn't erase the love I'd shared with David. If anything, it enhanced it, built upon it, even kept it alive in a way. Still, I had to do something to say goodbye, to release myself from a life of forced celibacy conditioned by conscience, built of blame.

In the next breeze, wrapped around my body, I felt David's blessing to love again, his wish for me to be happy.  So as I took a greedy breath of that fresh air, I unclasped the necklace, gave it one last kiss, and tossed it into the water below me. The glint of the silver caught in the moonlight sparkled a moment before it disappeared. Irretrievable like David in this life. Symbolic. Healing. The release let me take a first true breath in years, let my heart leap, beat with new vigor.

"Thank you, David, for loving me the way you did, as a generous friend, as a thoughtful lover. You'd like Liam. I know you would."

The wind picked up then, and I laughed to think of David pushing me back to my car, encouraging me to go to Liam.