For Keeps. For Always. HALEY JENNER (literature books to read .TXT) 📖

I watch her candidly.

He sees her happy.

I see her masking.

The dark circles under the eyes.

The lines of irritation and worry etched into her skin like crow’s feet.

Her smile is forced, pulled up in a way that aches her face. I’ve seen it countless times before.

Only difference is, today, I’m the one who put that pain there. I’m responsible for the anguish in her demeanor.

“Another?”

I shake my head, refusing to look away from my girl. “No, thanks.”

I need her to seek me out. To feel my presence in the room. I need her to look at me.

But she doesn’t.

I’m just another faceless man in the crowd.

My feet approach her with trepidation, knowing our reunion will be anything but pleasant.

I know, like me, she’s exhausted and demoralized by the protraction of our separation. Weary and wanting, I can only hope her relief in seeing me outweighs her hurt.

Shot glass paused at her lips, the blankness in her stare catches me off guard when she finally notices me.

“I thought you might’ve been dead.” She tips the glass back, swallowing its contents on a grimace.

“Henley,” I chide quietly. “I called, you didn’t answer. I sent you an email.”

Her palm hits her forehead. “He sent me an email,” she speaks to no one.

She’s drunk. And angry. A lethal combination that only ends in penitent words.

“Can we not do this here?” I step into her, removing the empty shot glass from her red-hot grasp.

“Do what?” she asks, the dismissive shrug in her shoulders a complete contradiction to the acid in her tone. “Have you explain how you’ve finally arrived, three entire months later than planned, with the only explanation a three-line email?”

I refrain from rubbing my hand down my face in frustration, knowing it would only incense her further.

“Baby, please,” I beg through clenched teeth. “I miss you. Can we talk about this in private?”

Her hand reaches out, moving toward my heart, my breath catching in relief. But the moment passes in a blink. She pulls her hand back in a fist, rubbing it against her chest, silently identifying the pain she feels.

My guilt turns in my gut.

“Henley, I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She throws her keys to the small entry table as we enter the bed and breakfast.

“Why do we do it?” She kicks off her shoes, throwing her jacket to the small sofa in the room.

“Do what?”

Her shoulders lift before she turns to look at me. “Hurt one another the way we do. Continue to try, even with the pain we’ve single-handedly etched into one another’s hearts. We’re pain, Brooks.”

“We’re in love!” I scream in desperation, hating the way she wraps everything around her in negativity. Certain it's the only way life can feel. “And sometimes it’s ugly,” I grit. “It’s painful and confusing and erratic and ambivalent.”

A low growl unfurls in my throat, and I force my eyes to close on a steady breath.

“But through all that shit,” I speak lowly. “It’s us. Brooks and Henley. Always.” I step closer. “I love you so hard my heart aches when we’re apart.”

“Yet you continue to leave.”

“I have a job.” I rub my forehead. “One that I need to give us the life we deserve.”

“I’ve lived rich. Money only causes heartache. Look at Jacinta. She lied my whole adolescence, for what? A paycheck?”

“I’m a grown-ass fucking man, Henley. I’m not gonna live week to week. I want a fucking life. I want to give you stability. A place you can finally call fucking home. I want us to have a family. We can’t do that living in hostels and shithole motels while you pull beers.”

She ignores me.

“You sent me an email. You were gone for months longer than we agreed, and you sent me an email.”

“I was on a boat,” I groan. “In the middle of the freaking ocean. The shoot got delayed. We hit land for a hot minute to refuel and resupply. I called,” I accuse. “You didn’t answer. I sent you an email with the world’s shittiest internet. I’ve apologized. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“It’s not words that I care for. You tell me you love me. You tell me your heart aches when we’re apart. But your actions show me that you love your job more.”

I sigh. “This was not how this was supposed to go.”

She barks out a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to fall at your feet? Were we supposed to be so consumed with relief at seeing one another, we’d tear one another’s clothes off in a cloud of lust?”

Still, always so fucking peculiar.

“Of course, I want to fuck you, Henley.” I throw my hands up. “I love you. I miss you, and quite frankly, I have fucking needs.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I just want to feel close to you.”

“Funny way of showing it. How’d your needs go on that boat for all those months? You have a new Grace to keep you warm?”

My fists clench involuntarily. “You don’t mean that.”

She steps toward me, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “Did you fuck someone else, Brooks? You are a cheater, after all.”

The tone of her voice peaks and stumbles. She doesn’t believe what she’s saying. I have to believe she doesn’t think I could do that to her.

“You don’t believe that,” I say, needing it to be true.

Her eyes don’t blink. Wide enough, I can see the small red lines threaded through her sclera.

“What about you?” I test. “You’ve crossed a good many lines yourself with me. Liquored-up, surrounded by everything with a cock.”

“Jealous?” she taunts.

“Of course I’m fucking jealous,” I bellow. “You’re mine.”

“I don’t belong to you!” she yells. “I belong to no one.”

I pace back and forth, needing to move for fear I’ll throw something if I don’t. “Would that be so bad, to be mine?”

She turns away on a growl, her feet stumbling at the tequila still floating through her system. “I’m not a fucking possession. I’ve lived that life. Being ripped between two people who vowed to love me.”

My feet stop abruptly. “Don’t compare me to them.”

Regret washes over her face, but she doesn’t vocalize it,