Always and Never

Brendan smiled at her, his breath coming out in heavy grunts. "You're mine, Rachel. Always."

********

Rachel stirred from sleep. Her nipples were hard, thinking of that frenzied encounter. It was nearly four months later and still a heated blush crept to her cheeks every time she thought about it, how easily she gave into him. How she still did.

She was in love with him. God help her, in her own ridiculously sad way, she loved him. That realization nearly broke her heart because she knew the feelings were not reciprocated.

She sat up in bed, slightly dazed. She was still in Room 8. It was pitch dark and she felt around for the nightstand. She grabbed her cell. Shit. It was almost seven. She was going to be late for dinner with Lucia.

Rachel switched on the lap, flooding the room with warm light. Brendan wasn't there; he probably left while she slept. She imagined that he dressed in a stealth-like fashion, so as not to wake her.

He probably dropped a tender kiss on her forehead before closing the door behind him. Her hand touched her forehead gingerly, looking for the supposed sign of affection. It wasn't there.

Dressing quickly, she hurried out to her car. As she started the ignition, she dialed Lucia's number, informing her she'd be a little late. Her best friend merely sighed. She knew the particulars of Rachel's involvement with Brendan Doyle, but she chose to keep her mouth shut, something Rachel greatly appreciated.

As she drove through the city, she tried not to think about the hot tears threatening to slide down her cheeks. She tried to brush it off as post-euphoria, that feeling of "now what?" after a great orgasm. But no, it was more than that.

She knew. She was trapped. Trapped in a situation with a man who didn't love her. He wanted her, needed her, claimed her body, but he didn't love her. He could be tender, sweet, and generous, but he was also cold. His ability to not share his feelings made him appear distant and unfeeling, heart hard as granite.

All signs pointed to ending the motherfucker. Get out while she could still maintain some of her dignity. But leaving felt worse than staying. Not having Brendan was much worse than anything he could do to her. Months wasted, the promise of an actual relationship in the future spoiled.

Rachel nearly laughed at her stupid logic. The things women come up with to convince themselves that a man can change.

In no time at all, she was in the parking lot of Tuscany's. The swanky Italian eatery was a sweet find four years ago and it was a favorite of hers and Lucia's.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small compact to check her makeup. Before she left, she sprayed a bit of her favorite scent, Armani Code. She ran an errant hand through her ebony locks, attempting to smooth them. Giving the mirror a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes, she hopped out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the front door.

The warm room coupled with the delicious aroma of mingling spices soothed her mood instantly. The hostess led her to her usual booth, located in a semi-lit corner of the restaurant. She spotted Lucia, chatting on her cell while typing away at her Blackberry. She had to smile; the girl was always multitasking.

Rachel gave a small wave before sliding into the booth across from her. She waited while Lucia wrapped up her conversation. After a few minutes, Lucia closed her phone and heaved a dramatic sigh.

"I swear to God it's like he can't handle one thing." She flipped her heavy dark hair over her shoulder and eyed her best friend.

Rachel chuckled. "Aaron's with the girls again?"

Lucia nodded. "He acts like a complete ass whenever it's his night to baby-sit. Every time I come home I swear it looks like a tornado hit. Man can't clean to save his life. Can't even put a proper ponytail in their hair. He's got my poor babies looking like Buckwheat."

Rachel laughed. "You're exaggerating."

"Bullshit. I'll show you pics. Since you were so late, I already ordered for the both of us. Tortellini alla Panna and roasted Lamb. I also ordered a spinach lasagna since you liked it so much the last time."

Rachel groaned. "Jesus, Lucia. You ordered enough to feed an army."

Lucia shrugged. "We'll have enough to take home."

Rachel tried to enjoy the meal, but her mind kept wandering. She was anxious to hear from Brendan; part of her was angry that she depended on hearing from him so much. He clearly wasn't concerned with her. Sometimes she wished she could be as cold as him.

Soon it was time to say goodbye. As she walked out to her car, swinging a large bag of leftovers, she heard her phone trill in her purse. She waited until she was in her car before digging for the phone.

Her heart lurched when she saw the text:

Sorry for running out. Duty calls. Same time tomorrow. Want to taste you again. Always, B.

Same old Brendan. Straightforward yet evasive at the same time. She wondered how he was able to pull that off. Gripping her steering wheel tightly, Rachel Tunney pondered her situation.

She could simply say no, sever all ties. Acknowledge that she only ever had half of him and half a man could never love completely. She had to admit the truth; he wasn't going to change. He was always Brendan, never HER Brendan. Always submissive, never strong.

It was always his way, never hers. When she made the lame attempt to leave, he would dismiss it casually, like the ranting of a petulant child. Because he knew: She wasn't going a damn place. "You're mine, gorgeous," he'd whisper. "Always."

Exactly. Always his, never hers. She was borrowing him, and she knew it. Truth was, she didn't care. She needed him. She loved him. One day he'd see that. One day he'd feel the same.

Rachel sighed. She started her car, and pulled slowly out of the lot. As she drove along the lighted city streets, she attempted words of comfort but they were nowhere to be found. She was his, always. This much she knew.

He would never be hers. Not completely.

This time, she didn't bother to wipe the falling tears.