Page 73 of Beautiful Trauma
“You haven’t even tried,” Pres countered.
“The feelings are either there or they aren’t. Henry is who I want to build my life with. I’ve already requested a meeting with Regina on Monday morning. I’m going to come clean to her and let the chips fall where they may. This will be the last time I deny what Henry means to me.” Tears of joy and relief cascaded down my face.
“You’re throwing your life away for a piece of ass—one you can’t even fuck raw. What’s the point of a monogamous relationship if you can’t fill his tight hole with your cum. You really want to settle for wearing condoms for the rest of your life?”
The other comments were ones I’d expected him to say, but I took the last one like a sucker punch to the gut. Pres had used my honesty as a weapon against me. I actually staggered back a few steps until I regained my steps.Disgusting. Filthy.I felt like I was going to puke.
“You son of a bitch,” Ezra growled. A second later I heard a hard thud followed by a sickening crunch.
“Fuck! I think you broke my nose,” Pres yelled.
“You stay the fuck away from him,” Ezra yelled.
Snapping out of my self-pity party for one, I dashed around the end of the tall shrubs and found Ezra squared up with his fists at the ready to hit Pres again. The Brit stood a few feet away covering his nose to no avail because blood gushed out from beneath it, spreading down his crisp, white shirt.
“Ezra,” I said starkly, running to block him when he advanced on Pres. “What are you doing?” I gripped his biceps hard, hoping to penetrate his rage.
“Fucking up his life,” Pres said, his voice sounding nasally beneath his hand.
“Shut up,” Ezra and I both yelled at the same time.
“You need to beat his ass a little quieter. I heard you arguing as soon as I stepped outside,” I said.
“You two deserve each other,” Pres said, stomping toward us. “Don’t bother reporting for work on Monday, Henry. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me, jackass,” I retorted.
“We’ll just see about that,” he said over his shoulder as he left Ezra and me by ourselves.
“Son of a bitch!” Ezra said, pulling free from my grasp and shaking out his fist. “That hurt. Bastard’s square jaw felt like punching concrete.”
The reality of the situation hit me. Ezra not only risked his career by getting involved with me, he risked getting arrested for assault because he defended my honor. I loved him more than my next breath, and that meant I needed to let him go.
Reading my expression, Ezra firmly said, “No, Henry.” He reached for me, but I stepped away from him. The wounded look from my rejection made me temporarily waver in my decision but hearing rapidly approaching footsteps prodded me to do what was necessary.
“He’s not wrong, Ezra. You deserve a man you can be proud of, grow old with, and not have to worry about latex barriers preventing you from getting sick. I can’t let you ruin your life for me. I’m not worth it.”
“You’re worth everything. I love you, Henry. Please don’t do this to us,” he cried.
“Love isn’t always enough. You’ll only resent me later.” I looked around for another exit when the footsteps got closer. I wouldn’t allow him to get caught with me in a compromising position. Spotting a break in the shrubs, I began jogged toward it. “You have to let me go, Ezra,” I said over my shoulder.
“Never,” he said passionately.
I ducked between the bushes just as I heard Dr. Bronson’s voice. “Ezra, what the hell is going on? Did you punch Dr. Stone in the face?”
“He had too much to drink and tripped,” Ezra said calmly. “Regina, I don’t think our conversation can wait until Monday.”
Dr. Bronson let out a long sigh. “Let’s go find a drink and quiet corner.”
I waited long enough for them to reach the country club before I returned inside. The place was buzzing with excitement, and I figured their imaginations were running wild.
“Henry,” Beatrice said. “Did you hear what happened? Dr. Meyer punched Dr. Stone in the face.”
“Really? I heard Dr. Stone had too much to drink and tripped.”
“Oh,” Beatrice said, sounding disappointed. “I guess that makes more sense than mild-mannered Dr. Meyer laying him out.” She studied me closely for a second. “Have you been crying?”
“Allergies. I had too much wine and went outside for some fresh air. There are flowers everywhere out there. Beatrice, I hate to ask, but do you think you’ll be ready to leave soon?”