Instigation

After slipping into the large Jacuzzi-style bathtub, I down a healthy amount of wine, trying to drown my anxiety and fend off the proverbial chill that’s been hovering over me ever since Adrian’s text. When I click the built-in stereo on, Banks’s “Drowning” fills the room. Slowly, I sink lower into the tub, listening to the lyrics as the crooning continues over the speaker.

 

I realize that a more apt song couldn’t have been playing for me right now. With Adrian, I’m drowning. I’m sinking. I’m losing every part of me, and as much as I thought I loved him, I can’t do this anymore. If I lose any more of myself, I’m afraid I won’t be able to come back from it. Rafe was right. I don’t have a boyfriend. Maybe I did in the beginning, but not any longer. No, what I have now is an owner, and I wonder how I let things go so far. How did I let them get this bad?

 

Closing my eyes, I lean back against the cool tile of the tub as the events of the day play through my mind. Adrian. Rafe. My impromptu visit to a local clinic in order to ensure that Adrian’s sleeping around hasn’t affected me. The thought causes me to shiver, the mere idea a repulsive one. Not much better than what he did to me on the counter.

 

I won’t lie. The moment Adrian wrapped his hand around my slender neck, he terrified me. In that precise moment, my eyes were set on a man I no longer recognized. His wild eyes bored into mine, and even though he didn’t squeeze, his thumb kept ticking against my skin, almost as if he had been anxious to do so. To hurt me. To show me just who was boss and what would happen if I were no longer obedient to him.

 

I had no idea what he was capable of. I still don’t. And his following words, how he claimed to own me, my car, my bank account, and every piece of clothing in my closet, made me feel dirty and cheap even though I knew I was anything but. Still, if I’d left, if Adrian had let me walk out that door, where would I be now? Sleeping in my car? Correction—his car. I could see myself starving and broken because of my stubbornness. Or I could ride it out and determine a way to get myself out of this mess and still come out on the other side. Can’t I?

 

Then Rafe walked in, and after the initial terror had subsided, his presence soothed me—probably more than I should have allowed. I don’t know what it was, but with one look, I knew he wouldn’t harm me. With one touch, I knew he desired me. I’ve missed that—the feeling of being wanted. His hands rose and fell as he tried not to touch me, and I wanted him to. More than anything.

 

It was a foreign concept, and I’d be lying if I said that he doesn’t interest me. I spent a total of ten minutes with the man, but it was all I needed. One kiss from his lips awoke something deep inside me that’d lain dormant since Adrian’s personality change, and even though it should scare me, I want to experience more of it. So much more.

 

I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man, but the moment he touched me, I was flooded with sexual desire I want to explore. Sure, with Adrian, I was instantly attracted, but it took me hours to work up the nerve to get close to him. With Rafe, it was mere moments. I know I should be cautious, but it’s not as if I’m looking for an emotional attachment. Something purely physical would probably do me some good, and if I read him correctly, Rafe felt the same. Suddenly, the next few weeks are looking up.

 

Still, it’s bewildering how I could encounter such different men in a single day, both evoking reactions I’m not sure I’m ready to explore.

 

One man wants to own me like a cheap toy, his until he’s ready to discard me.

 

The other looks at me as if he can see the old me. The real Gabriella. Or, in this case, Brie.

 

Rafe wanted to consume me—that much was evident—but he was gentle. Tender. He didn’t take. He requested. And it made me all the more willing to give in even when my brain was screaming at me to run away and never look back.

 

Has it really only been twelve hours since I found those panties? God, just the reminder of them makes my stomach turn with revulsion. Is he with her now? Or are there multiple hers? The thought alone is enough to have me gripping the edge of the tub until my fingertips turn white. My hand reaches for the wine bottle, and I take a long drag, allowing my mind to push those thoughts away and bring new ones in. Welcome ones of the rugged, sexy construction worker whose taste still remains on my lips.

 

As I lose myself in the memory of Rafe’s kiss, I no longer care about what could be called my betrayal. Adrian certainly didn’t when he decided to sleep around, so why should I? Morality be damned. Let me be the whore. The cheater. Don’t I deserve a little bit of pleasure in the sea of this insurmountable pain?

 

I’ll deal with the consequences later.

 

Tomorrow, I’m taking Rafe up on his offer.

 

Tonight, I have a rule to break.

 

My hand slips into the water and finds my core, begging to be touched, but I stop just before making contact, changing my mind.

 

No, I will not break the rule tonight, but I will break it soon.

 

It just won’t be by my hand. It’ll be by his.

 

 

 

 

 

THE REST OF THE week passes without incident. Every morning, I wake to a greeting text from Adrian. Which is surprising, as he’s never cared to keep in contact lately. Every night, like clockwork, he wishes me goodnight. The first day, it caught me off guard, but I quickly realized what he was doing. He is keeping me on a leash, giving me what he thinks is just enough to keep me satisfied. He is also, I suppose, trying to keep up tabs on me without actually having to talk to me. As long as I continue to answer him, he is appeased and our contact stops at texts. Gone are days we’d talk on the phone for hours, with back-and-forth sentiments like I miss you and I wish you were here.

 

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