Chapter 5: Revelations & Hope

An hour or so later I finally found my voice and told Patrick he should go.

“I just need some time to myself, I think.”

His eyes stared down at me. “Nina, I don’t want to leave you right now.”

My hand went to my cheek, expecting it to be wet with tears, but it came away dry. I was confused. Shouldn’t I have been weeping?

My cell phone rang from my bedroom. Cursing, Patrick went to get it. He came back out slowly and handed it to me.

“It’s my mom, isn’t it?” I asked, mildly surprised at how normal I sounded. How calm.

In hindsight, I was probably thinking the worst had already happened—my sister had caught us fucking. She’d heard Patrick screaming out his love for me. She saw me fucked and blissful. Nothing could be more terrible than that.

“No, your friend. I sent it to voicemail.” He skimmed his fingers down my arms, caressing the goosebumps. “Do you want to sit down? You’re shaking.”

Blindly I sat and heard Patrick rustling around in my kitchen. He cooed at Rufus and I heard him open a can for him—thank God. Poor cat must’ve been traumatized.

He walked out a few minutes later with a glass of water and buttered toast. He made me eat and drink, but honestly I didn’t give much of a fight. The energy was completely zapped from me.

After I ate most of the bread, Patrick picked me up and brought me into the bathroom. He turned on the tub, filled it with hot water and sank me into it. Picking up a washcloth and soap, he washed my sweating and soiled body delicately and lovingly. Though he hardly put any pressure on me, each swipe burned and bruised my skin. Each loving touch gave the most exquisite pain.

“Are you sorry?” he asked after a bit, disrupting the silence that rested over us like dirty film.

I digested the question and spoke in a voice I hardly recognized. “Of course I’m sorry. I broke my sister’s heart.”

Patrick stared into the bathwater, swirling it around with his hand. “No ... I know you’re sorry about that. I’m sorry about that, too. I meant— are you sorry about this? About us? Do you regret it?”

Sighing, I contemplated the scruffy, patient, kneeling man beside me who I used to detest above all things. He was carefully guarding his emotions. It had to be rough on him, too. In all his confessions, he never once said he hated or even disliked Chloe.

Was I sorry? Sorry seemed like such a silly word when applied to our situation, to what I’d done to my only sister. ‘Regret’ fell short, too. I acted so selfishly, aware of the damning consequences but too desperate to obtain my own pleasure.

I’d become freakishly needy for Patrick’s touch. He had married my sister, shared her bed for years, had sex with her, cared for her, spent holidays with her, fermented his image and career with her by his side...

Was I sorry?

Now I was able to see a side of Patrick I never knew existed. For the first time in my life, someone made love to me. Someone was enamored with me. When you overlooked the antagonistic and self-serving persona, Patrick was amazing. Endearing. Beloved. Could I regret experiencing all that? Tasting him? Feeling him inside me? Seeing him watch me with such strangely devoted eyes?

Remembering a question I asked myself not long ago, though it seemed like years before, I wondered again how long ago I’d started wanting him. The whole affair had exploded so intensely and quickly that it couldn’t have just begun when he started sniffing around. And the hate I had for him for all those years always seemed tinged with something else. If you truly dislike someone, you feel indifferent, don’t you? Sparks don’t ignite and pop down your spine when you see them. No, I’d felt a puzzling mixture of things for Patrick for as long as I could remember.

Since...

Then everything clicked into place. I didn’t just want Patrick.

“Do you know when I first started loving you?” I asked him, not realizing my prolonged silence had sent him into his own quiet whirlwind of thoughts. His head snapped up and the heat in his eyes nearly made me stop speaking. The words, however, and the emotions, had been stifled for too long. “You were married to Chloe for four months and the two of you made me go to the movies with you. It was a stupid movie but I can’t think of the name now ... Chloe went to the bathroom. We were standing by the concession stand.”

Patrick said nothing but his alert eyes and rigid posture told me he was listening and that he recalled it all perfectly. He never forgot anything.

“My ex-boyfriend was there. Mike. We had just broken up and he was there with some gorgeous girl, practically fucking her against the wall. You got so angry. I didn’t understand it then. I was too depressed to make sense of anything, really...” I drifted off, thinking back, wondering how I could have been so blind. It wouldn’t have changed our situation at all, but it might have prepared me for the onslaught of feelings that were slamming into my awareness now. “Anyway, I think I was about to cry or something. You said, ‘Don’t worry about him. Even someone like you could do a million times better.’”

Patrick stared at me. A corner of his mouth moved up like he wanted to smile, but he didn’t seem particularly amused. “Nina, really? That is the moment you started loving me? That’s ... disappointing. And sad. I was being a dick.”

My numb face managed a slight smile. “Maybe. You were being less of a dick than usual, which I appreciated. It was the first time you said something halfway decent to me. And you were so angry for me. On my behalf.” I looked down at my pruned fingers. “You also forget I’m used to macho men who don’t really express their feelings. My dad is a good example of that.” I looked back at him and my heart thumped heavily at the expression I saw on his face, at how he restrained himself from holding me, likely thinking I’d shatter into a million pieces if he touched me. “Even if what you said was carefully constructed to come off as an insult, I read through it. I had no idea what you felt back then, but in that moment I remember thinking, ‘Wow. He’s not such an asshole.’ I didn’t know it then but hating you became a lot more complicated. I might not have loved you then but something shifted.”

Patrick let the water drain and pulled me up, drying me off with another large towel. Once I was dry to his satisfaction, he gazed down into my face. “I can’t believe it was that easy. Something so small. And here I thought I was going to have to buy you diamonds and rubies and thousands of books to get you to love me.”

It was said with humor but there was a touch of that vulnerability that lingered around the edges of Patrick’s personality, left over from a time when no one loved him or cared for him when he was a kid.

My heart was broken and bleeding because of what I had done knowingly and almost gleefully to Chloe, but it ached when I watched Patrick and thought of letting him go. Finally I let myself completely feel everything—not just the guilt and shame.

“No,” I said firmly, putting my hands on him for the first time since we were discovered.

Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“You asked me before if I was sorry about us, if I regretted it. My answer is no.”

He caressed the side of my face with his hand. Then it danced down to my throat, where it curled around to grab me. He felt my heart racing and smiled faintly. He ran his hand up into my hair and clutched it in a strong fist, tipping my head back so he could kiss me deeply. He hugged me close to his chest and his pounding heart. His kiss expressed almost boyish delight, mingled with distinctive adult male satisfaction.

Pulling away a few moments later, his damp lips grinned. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being an asshole.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I gave him one last peck and slipped a long shirt over my head. I picked up my phone. At Patrick’s inquiring look, I said, “I’m just going to leave her a message. I’m so worried.”

He nodded and then cleared his throat. “So, do you want me to go home? I can go home. Give you time.”

Letting out a deep breath, I shook my head. I’d committed myself to this path. Some, who knew Patrick and his ways well, would say I damned myself to it. And I wanted him to stay, no matter what. Enough vacillating. It was time to pick a decision and stick to it.

“Stay. I’ll be right back.”

Relieved, Patrick removed his clothing. I walked out into my living room and called Chloe. It went straight to her voicemail.

“Chloe ... I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am you had to see that. This isn’t something we’ve been doing for— I’ve been such a coward lately. I need to ... explain, if you’ll let me. I love you and I never meant to hurt you. I know that I did hurt you, that I’ve been a selfish bitch. I love you so much. You’re my sister. Please call me when you can. We need to talk.”

I sniffed and shook my head, hanging up. This was going to take a lot more than words. I didn’t know if my relationship with Chloe could ever be repaired. Something told me the scars from this would last a lifetime.

Walking back into the bedroom, I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Patrick sprawled out and fast asleep like a little kid, Rufus curled up on his chest. It was strange getting used to his vulnerable side, but I liked it. I was struck once more by how quickly everything had transformed. It was overwhelming, to be honest.

I didn’t know what would happen with Patrick. He was moody, arrogant and a self-proclaimed narcissist. He had changed slightly, but he hadn’t changed that much. He could very likely break my own heart one day.

Climbing into bed with him, smelling him and feeling his warm arm automatically wrap around me, I figured it was a risk I was more than willing to take.

Thankfully the next day was a Saturday. Feeling and looking as I did, I would have had to call out from work. My eyes were glassy and puffy, and I’d had nightmares all night. I was exhausted, scared and devastated.

Patrick woke up and smiled at me, and then his smile faded. I looked awful. “I’ll go get you breakfast,” he whispered, kissing my lips. “The place around the corner, right?”

I smiled—or at least I tried to—and pressed my lips onto his cheek.

I took a hot shower, then crawled right back into bed. Peeking at my phone, I saw I had no missed calls or texts. I nearly drifted off to sleep when the phone went off. My heart and stomach lurched and I quickly reached for it to look at the screen. It was my mom. Shit.