Commitment Collection 2- Ignition; Turbo Charged; Pole Position, page 10
part #4 of Commitment Series
The one we share together now is very different, and it wasn’t making me happy. It was obviously making him miserable too, so is there a point to us talking about our feelings the way his drunken self demands?
Certainly not now while he’s inebriated again, that’s for sure. But ever?
I need to give the whole thing some serious consideration.
Elliott
I wake at 5 am the next morning with a purpose. I cannot tolerate this whole sorry mess any longer. The longer we permit our standoff to fester, the greater the risk will be of me not winning back Kyle. And that’s what I want. I am certain.
But, I can't just say that. We're past that stage. I must have a plan.
And I don’t have one.
I jump out of bed and I head to the gym at work with a fresh purpose. This is always my best place to think problems through. Something about pushing my body to the point of exhaustion allows my mind the freedom to think more clearly.
I crank open the door, and I hit the treadmill.
Our anniversary is approaching. It will be three years since we met. I must do something for it that will show Kyle that I’ve been a dick, that I’m sorry, and that we can move on.
The problem is, we’ve already enjoyed so much, so what can I do that is not only different but will show him that I mean business.
Plus, I need to understand what he wants and much as I hate to admit it, the best person to give me the inside line on what Kyle is up to, is Florian. After seeing Kyle’s eyes yesterday, I’m certain there is nothing going on between the two of them. So other than my pride, there is no reason not to rope him into the surprise.
I pump up the speed of the track beneath me, remembering the days when Kyle and I would race around the lake at our house. A fond smile warms my heart through my uneven breathing, and I start to feel invigorated with the power of purpose.
It’s at this point that I'm also reminded of the deal that Daisy offered me when we wrapped up our last, lucrative property transaction.
And that’s it. I’ve nailed it.
I have a plan on how to win back Kyle Beaumont-Judd.
As soon as I’m off the treadmill, I put in a call to Florian.
“Hi buddy, how are you?” His voice is unaffected. Kyle obviously hasn’t filled him in on our situation then.
“Ah, you know. Not too bad. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”
“OK, spill the beans. How can I help?”
I go on to tell Florian what I need from him in exacting detail. I have him repeat what I’ve said word for word to ensure he has understood.
And then I settle back into my routine and enjoy the burn on my biceps and core as I take a hold of two ends of a heavy rope and whip it against the rubber matting with all my might, each ripple taking me one step further to my ultimate goal.
Kyle
“Come on, dig deep. If your life depended on this now, could you do that extra rep?”
It's the anniversary today of Elliott and me first meeting. I am not in the mood to be bossed around by Florian.
But he's not taking any of my crap today, and much as I hate him for it, he does have a point. I could actually work harder. And so, I do. He may be annoying when he’s pushing me to work to my extreme, but Florian does get results.
When he finally eases up on me and lets me rest, he says, “I need you to get in tip top shape. I have a challenge for you today.”
“Oh?” I stagger over to the cool water filter and gulp a few slugs.
“Yeah, it’ll help you prepare for the logging event.”
“Oh, I’m not sure about that anymore.” I’ve been worrying about how to tell him this isn’t going to happen anymore. I can’t be slap bang in the middle of Elliott’s press shebang now.
“Sure it is. You’re all signed up.”
“But, you don’t understand. Some things have happened...”
“Excuses, excuses. You’re booked in to the competition, so you’re attending. Now I want you ready in five.”
“Huh? Ready?”
“Uh yeah! Come on, chop-chop!”
“But, we’ve just completed my routine.”
“We’ve done half your routine, and that was your warm-up for the next part of your program. Now come on!”
Ten minutes later we’re in Florian’s truck and on the road, heading to some undisclosed location. Why all the secrecy? I don’t know. But it’s unsettling. I have an uneasy sensation that something I won’t be overly fond of is about to happen, and I’m hurtling toward it without the aid of brakes.
And quite frankly I’ve had my fill of being out of control these past few months.
A bad mood is starting to descend on me. All the energy I fired up during my gym session is waning, and my legs are heavy. I’m settled back into the worn passenger seat, snuggled in my fleece with the hot air blowing on my face.
While staring out the window at the passing scenery, something familiar grabs my attention. I’m not sure if it’s the way the hills lie, or perhaps the way the ray of the sun catches the trees, but a memory is rattled. I just can’t locate it.
I sit more upright, become more aware of where we are heading.
And then we pull in to the car park. We park exactly where Elliott and I left our bikes that first time we came to this forest. And when Florian demands I slide out of his four-wheel drive and hands me an ax to carry, I follow his lead down the same path that Elliott brought me down when we stayed in the tree house.
We pass the bark that Elliott pinned me against and a small smile ghosts my lips. The cool breeze under the shade of the canopies is far from cold, and the memory of the last time I felt it warms my insides better than any heater. I trace the pattern with my fingers as we tramp past, and it’s like connecting with an old friend, always loved but somehow lost.
Florian slows his pace and waits for me to catch up. He doesn’t speak as I walk back to his side, just turns and continues our journey.
We end up down at the waterfall where Elliott and I stood after making love.
“Here we are.”
I half expect Elliott to appear from behind a tree, waiting to surprise me. But he doesn’t. He isn’t here. I’m here with Florian and an ax. And a pile of logs.
“The forestry needs some timber cutting so you can perfect your technique, and then when you’ve finished, you’ll run them to the visitor center so they can use them to fuel the wood burners in the holiday rental pods.”
“Huh?” I’m not listening. My mind is elsewhere. It’s with Elliott and it’s with me; it’s with the people we used to be, and my heart weeps for the loss of the happy couple, of us. My eyes fill and although I bite my lip until it bleeds, I can’t hold back the current of emotions connecting with my body. Rather than having me smash logs to pieces, he changes his mind and instead forces me to run for the hills.
My brain calms as my legs power through the forest, my ankles balancing the rest of my body as my feet slam down on uneven tree roots, on the slip of decomposing leaves, and on the rugged clusters of stones buried in the mud.
I'm unsure how far I run, but it allows me to escape the confines that have been locking down my emotions. I let myself feel, to be at one with my physical and mental self, finally seeing that I am lost, and I don’t have a clue about how to begin to be whole again.
I run up a fell, then back down again with a speed I didn’t know I possessed until I land back in that forest. The empty place, filled with such happy memories with Elliott. But I’m alone.
My chest feels like it’s in a vice, and I can’t figure out if it’s because of the run I just pushed my body through or because of the crippling pain it’s letting loose.
But, now I stroll. I know where I’m headed, but I don’t acknowledge it yet. Not until I turn the corner, and I stand staring up at the clear pod suspended in the trees. The place where Elliott and I had our first date.
And that’s when a hand rests on my shoulder.
Elliott
When Kyle turns to face me, I could dissolve from shame. His face is streaked with mud where his tears have washed into the dust caused by his feet stamping into the ground. My big man, so strong and yet so fragile. I’m emotionally pulled close into his fears and hurt, and I want nothing more than to hold him and take him in my arms, to apologize for my failings, and to tell him that nothing I said was a reflection on him, but rather a reflection on my inner demons.
The blackness that I allowed to overtake my rationality has hurt us both. I won’t let that happen again if I can just get Kyle to see us as we once were and give us another shot.
If he will forgive me.
“I’m sorry. I needed you to feel us again.” My voice is soft, pleading with him not to jump to the conclusion that I have been cruel in bringing him here. “I want us to get back to who we were as much as you do. And I do know you feel like that, Kyle.”
There’s a heartbeat during which he scrunches his face while he works out what’s happening. Then he takes both his huge hands, and he shoves them against me, sending me stumbling against a tree.
“You’ve got some nerve. Can you not be done with hurting me? Do you have to take that knife you wielded and twist it at every opportunity?”
He begins stalking off before I’ve been able to right myself. “Stop, Kyle. It’s not like that. I love you, and I want you back.”
“I never saw it before, but you’re a sick fuck. Do you know that?”
“Wait.” I chase after him, grabbing his elbow.
He spins, slams his face to just centimeters from mine. I feel his breath as he spits, “No.”
“This was supposed to be romantic.” I shout in the general direction of his back as he retreats through the trees.
His form stops, and he turns, marching back toward me. “Romantic. You think dragging up one of the best nights of our lives and showing what could have been is romantic? It’s no wonder you messed up our whole relationship up if that’s how your brain works.”
“What could still be, Kyle. I’ve learned my lesson.” I widen my eyes, hoping through them he can see that I’m hurting too. I start to talk again, nerves making my words choppy, “Listen, we both want things to go back to how they were-” I stop, worried I’ve pushed too far and he’s going to run for the hills.
But then his mouth crushes mine, his tongue wild with need as it forces inside me. His fingers needle into my scalp, entwining then dragging at my roots until my neck is crooked back. His other hand takes my throat, pulling my jaw as he twists his other fist.
A sinful gasp escapes my exposed throat as the pain bites through the blur of the past few weeks.
Kyle’s breath is hot as it whispers over my lips, “You are so fucking hot,” and then he body slams me against a tree, knocking my elbows and forcing them to rest on his hips which he pistons into me, grinding as though he’s already inside me.
The friction is painful. And real. And liberating.
And Kyle is kissing me. Like his life depends on it.
Kyle
I step back, take a breath, rubbing my thumb over his swollen bottom lip until the flesh pulls, exposing his white teeth, slightly parted so his panting whispers over my fingers. Elliott’s pale ice eyes have turned to a rich blue, just a sliver surrounding his blown pupils.
That kiss told me everything this stupid, confused man has problems saying out loud. It showed me the strength of his sentimentality, of his sorrow at having hurt me, at having hurt us. He’s opened his soul to me, and I feel every ounce of his love resonating to my core.
I remove my thumb, kiss it to my mouth and as I return to his, I brush it over the inside of his lip where it’s still wet. He bends his head, nips his teeth around my thumb and gently draws a circle over the pad with his tongue before releasing me.
I cup his cheek in that same hand, mingling my fingers in the hair that hangs down his neck and wipe a solitary tear from his eye with my other. I bite the inside of my mouth as I drink him in, understanding his pain as I try to work out what the fuck we’re going to do about it.
“Now what?” My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.
“I don’t know, but I do know I don’t want to be without you.”
“I agree. But I don’t know how we fix this. Things went so awry between us. It’s like we were out of control.” The trees rustle and my declaration is soft, but he hears me. “We need to do some serious talking and not stop until we work this out,” I suggest.
“Well, that place is ours for the night if you want to talk.” He points to the pod hanging in the canopy of the tree behind us. “I’m not expecting anything, but I booked it hoping we would need somewhere to hash this out.” He chews that bottom lip so hard while he waits for my answer that he leaves an imprint.
I don’t know whether walking up those steps to the spherical tree house where Elliott and I had our first date is wise. It conjures up too many memories, all of them good. How can my thoughts be level? While I think it over, I focus on that lip, swollen and red from my stubble and from his teeth as he chews.
Placing my mouth against them again is the most natural feeling in the world, but this time, I’m not angry. My kiss is soothing, a chaste touch to tell him what words cannot.
That I care.
And that I don’t want to screw up this special place with pain and torment. That the memories I treasure cannot be soured by jealousy and misunderstandings.
“For the record,” I say, “this is not romantic. It’s confusing.” I shake my head slowly.
He doesn’t reply, just implores me with the passion in his eyes.
“Come on.” I say. “But no promises, OK?”
“OK.”
Elliott
As we walk toward our accommodation, I have an urge to wrap my arm around his waist. I stop myself with an awkward start, aware that we’re not ready yet. We’re going to talk and that’s a start, but the understanding that I’ve still messed this up makes me drop my arm to my side again, deciding to simply walk alongside him. My legs feel stiff and my shoulders are tight. I’m kind of swaying instead of walking naturally. I cast my eyes to the ground, not daring to look at him in case he flees again.
Inside the privacy of our private but transparent dome, there are two chairs either side of the log fire, which fills the space with heat and a gorgeous burning smell. I gesture to one armchair, toeing off my shoes then planting my butt in the other. I’ve had some drinks brought up, and so, no sooner do I sit, I stand again and head over to root around in the low fridge.
“I don’t know about you, but I could do with a beer.” I ask.
“Sure, that would be good.”
We’re silent as I pop the caps off the bottles. Despite standing outside for hours, my hands are burning. The cool of the bottle melts against them and drips down the neck of the glass.
The fire crackles and the place closes in on me. I struggle to catch my breath as I loosen the zip on the jumper I’ve had on, eventually deciding to pull it over my head and dump it onto the bed. A memory of us stripping when we were here before shoots into my vision, of Kyle with his t-shirt pressed over his head, locking his arms at his wrists. Instinctively I pull mine down now at the front, covering what he has seen a million times before.
I pad over to where he’s watching the scene play out in utter silence. His face is placid, but he’s not relaxed either. The atmosphere is strained as we both struggle to find a footing that will drag us back to where we need to be.
I hand him the beer and his lips curve up, “Cheers.”
I nod, mirroring the shape of his lips with my own attempt at normality.
The chair creeks as I sit back down. Or is it the wooden floor? I’m not sure.
He stares at me, waiting for my move.
I go to speak, open my mouth, but there's no sound. I’ve rehearsed this, but now we’re here, together, nothing seems right. I close my gaping hole again, regroup. Start again.
“I’m sorry. That’s it. I fucked up, and I spoiled what we had, but I didn’t mean to. I still want you as much as I ever did.”
He moves his head, almost imperceptibly up and down. He knows it, but I had to say the words, nevertheless. That’s his acknowledgment.
“I’m sorry, too. And nothing happened between Florian and me. He’s just a buddy, some company to hang around with. You weren’t there. I was lonely. I wasn’t hiding anything from you. We just weren’t talking properly, and it got missed.”
OK, so I need to re-focus. What is important is how we got to the point where I thought something was going on and he felt like he needed to replace the space I had previously taken with a substitute.
“We can’t carry on like we have been. We must adapt.”
“We were so happy, Elliott. I know they say you shouldn’t change something if it’s not broken, but this is a classic example.”
“I agree, but life changes. That’s part of a relationship. We can’t just stay stagnant for the rest of our lives because at one point doing those things brought us joy. We need to find fresh ways to both remain content when life moves forward.”
He looks out the window as a gust catches the trees and they waver. “But I wasn’t happy. I missed you. You’ve got all this new exciting stuff going on in your life, and I’m just left back where we were. And there’s a chasm left, because where we were, was fifty percent you. I’m lonely. And I’m sad. You never have time to talk to me properly. And then I started to resent you, resent the things you were building for us.”
