The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 213

I’ll hurt her; I’ll inflict pain on my girl in the worst possible way. But then, it’s not the same kind of pain. We have never really begun, and her love for me isn’t exactly clear cut, or black and white in the slightest. We have never explored it at all, and it could be nothing more than a dependency because of her past, because of what I have been to her when she needed that strength in someone else, and we might not even work. There is no guarantee that moving us from this to lovers would be successful, in fact, the last weeks have shown me that adding love and lust to this mix makes Sophie and I fight a hell of a lot more than we ever did. That we’re being hauled apart by it.

We have a bond that runs deep, and I should leave it alone, keep what we have and not chance losing us for some sexual gratitude and what ifs. I need to work on getting us past this, without altering or ruining what we have. She needs me to be the friend I have always been, who guides her on the right path and sticks by her when she needs him. That is my purpose in life; to protect her from all things. Even me.

I need her in my life, she’s my sweet girl, she needs cherishing, and I would die if anything happened to her. I swore to always take care of her and protect her and I wouldn’t be doing that if I became a guy who led her into an affair to satisfy his own needs. She’s worth more than sex, and lust, and I couldn’t make her happy if we destroyed another girl in the process of exploring what we feel. It’s sordid and messy and Sophie should never be the outcome of something so shitty. She’s too pure a soul to carry that kind of guilt.

Surely, if I loved her the right way then I wouldn’t be so confused?

My heart is aching, head in doubt and seeing them appear at the door of the bar so suddenly, only strengthens my decision in this moment. Standing side by side, Natasha clinging onto Sophie like a lost waif and looking incredibly vulnerable in all of this. It only twists the knife harder in my chest and makes it near impossible to breathe properly.

Sophie in a nutshell is true strength and beauty in one girl, determined to never be broken by anyone. Fiercely independent at times and has the ability to overcome anything life throws at her. She’s tough, she bounces back, and she listens to reason and logic eventually. She moves on and heals. She’s done it in worse things than this.

Natasha, however, is fragile innocence, uncertain in life and needs to be cared for, so timid and always looking to me to shelter her, take control and make our life decisions. She hasn’t got the inner strength or confidence Sophs has, and I know which girl will suffer more if I choose. I haven’t been fair to her in all of this at all.

I cut her loose after Sophie told me she loved me, in a bid to give myself breathing space and I have focused all my energy on Sophie ever since. Have discarded someone I love; someone I care about to be selfish and focus on everything else and every other outcome. It’s why she’s become so needy and touchy and keeps calling and showing up. Cries for my attention because she’s not coping. Whereas Sophs, cut me off for weeks, and showed so much more strength in her ability to deal with this. Maybe her plan was the right one. To cool off apart until she got over it and then we could go back to before.

I haven’t put Natasha’s needs or feelings in this equation at all, and she looks so small and childlike next to Sophs in this moment. She looks like a girl who wouldn’t bounce back from this kind of heartbreak and if I am not one hundred percent sure that I do not want her, then I would be all kinds of a bastard to discard her so cruelly. I would crumble her to dust the way my mom did, and I just can’t. I need to give my relationship one last go.

Sophie catches my eye, looking tall and sexy in her heels and that killer dress, and it only serves to stomach punch me cruelly. She’s insanely hot tonight, fucking my head and my libido up, even more so now I’m drunk as hell. I know that’s what this is, all this swirling tonight in my pants and my head, and I smile impulsively to mask my thoughts. A basic carnal need, lust, and sex. I want her, I want to do things to her that I should never associate with the girl who clung to me through years of therapy and healing from sexual abuse.

It’s wrong on so many levels. She’s beautiful, sexual, perfect in every way. The ultimate fantasy for me now that I have allowed myself to see her as she is. It doesn’t make it right and the unknown of what it could be between us is only fogging this more. For all I know, sex between us could be awful, and I’ve built her up in my head into a fantasy that I should know will never match up.

I should fix my sex life with Natasha. It was good once, and we’ve both become guilty of the lack of passion between us. Water my own grass and stop being a douchebag of epic proportions and bailing when things get boring. You don’t discard the broken, you fix it. That’s what my mom always taught us, it’s why she takes kids like Sophie and mends them. I grew up doing the same thing and It would go against every part of me to change it now. I won’t be my father in this. I won’t be a bastard.

I watch them both as they head my way and think better of doing it here, like this. I want to talk away from my group of mates, eyes and ears a plenty. I know what I need to do now, minds made up, logic prevailing over all the weird aching pain in my heart. I push off and head to them instead, to bridge the gap, eyes searching both girls impulsively, lightheaded and woozy. I need to put everything back in its place and focus on fixing both relationships. In their own ways.

Natasha and I need to explore if we still have one that is salvageable. Sophie and I need to figure out how to redefine the boundaries and work through how she feels, how I feel. We can get past it, because we are stronger than this and we need each other more than sex. I need Sophs to always be there in my life, no matter where my own path takes me.

Sophie’s eyes are on me as I get to them, in an instant, and I can tell by the way she is looking at me that she knows. That crazy way she can read me never fails her, and my skill at reading her equally is killing me. I know how she is, I know what kind of hurt and betrayal are already bubbling under the surface, before I even say a word to her.

She’s shielding the pain in her expression, but I can tell this is hurting her. It hurts me too, but there is no way out of this without someone hurting in some kind of way. It was always going to cause damage.

Today only reminded me of how good Sophie and I are as best friends, and how much I need things to stay this way. You don’t fuck up our kind of perfection together with some crazy hormonal fad.

“Natasha, maybe we should go talk over there, alone.” I smile softly at the doe eyes in the elfin face of the girl who is clinging to Sophie like a frail, frightened child and get hit with complete remorse. I’ve been such a jackass where she is concerned, and I have to do better. She never asked for any of this at all and I owe it to her to try and salvage something between us. I promised her a life, told her I loved her once and I have to focus on that right now and push everything else out of my head.

I glance at Sophs as Natasha smiles, untangles her fingers and slowly moves away from her, throwing me a wary look. She has no clue how to read me, she never did, and she has no idea what I’m thinking or what I’m going to say to her. I can tell by her nervous manner. She leans in so she’s within my breathing space, her sweet spicy perfume, so familiar and comforting in a vague way I guess, fear evident and a little misty eyed as though she might cry. I can’t deny that in the past two years we do have some good memories, and we could again if I make some effort with her.

“I love you.” She whispers, barely audible over the club and it has the same effect as stabbing me in the chest. She knows how to make me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet, and it just instils that stubborn side to do better for her. I catch Sophie glaring at me over Tasha’s head and look away, focusing on sending her to go find a booth so I can have a minute alone with Sophie.

This is going to hurt like hell, sting a lot too if she reacts like I know she might, and I won’t blame her for lashing out at me. Waiting on it. I deserve it and I would expect no less from my little cyclone. Sophie can be a demon when she feels cornered or hurt, and I am readying myself for some sort of physical backlash in this moment. Part of me wants her to fly at me, because I know it’s what I deserve and it might alleviate some of this heavy guilt, pooling inside of me painfully and crushing my soul to death.

I kissed her, I told her I have feelings for her, and now I’m undoing all of it. Fucked with her head and her heart for weeks, and it ends tonight. I hope she does hit me, because it will at least give me some

sense of shame at what I have done to her. She starts bristling up, getting fight and fire ready. I can feel it emanating from her and sigh with the regret washing over me, but I need to stay strong in this.

“Don’t mind me … I can amuse myself, plenty of booze, men, and dancing down there to keep me occupied for the rest of my night.” She sounds cold and locked down, eyes narrowing in that gorgeous face, and her words slice me to the core. I frown at how much those words can actually kill me; the thought of her going down there to find some random guy in place of me. It brings out a deep sense of nausea, intermingled with anger and pain and that undeniable jealousy. This isn’t the reaction I expected, but I know it’s what I deserve. Although, I know she doesn’t mean it, she’s lashing out and trying to wound me.

You are, baby, deeper than you know.

I catch her by the arm softly and maneuver her to the side, further from Tasha, so she won’t hear us, looking back to make sure she’s headed to a booth, and nod at her to sit down when I catch her eye, lingering near a seat. She does as she is told, and slides in, turning her back to us.

Turning back to Sophie, feeling those tropical blue, large untrusting eyes hit me full on, I hesitate and lose my courage, doubt hitting me hard that I’m really doing the right thing for us. She looks afraid, even though she’s trying to hide it and I hate that I have this power over both of them, that this is the situation I find myself in.

There is no good outcome on either side of this. Looking at that beautiful face, filled with anger and fear, brimming in the depths and her wall coming up to lock me out. Hate that I’m doing this to her, hate that I’m the one hurting her, but it only strengthens my resolve to do this.

None of us can move on until I make a choice and we can’t keep living in this state of indecision. Our lives began falling apart in her bedroom that day and ever since we have hurt each other, fought, and drifted apart in new ways. We’ve crossed lines, made a mess of everything, and muddied the waters of

our friendship. For us both, I need to be the one who pulls us all out of this and puts everything back where it belongs.

In the long-term things will work out. Sophie belongs as my best friend for life, secure and safe under my protection and care, in the crook of my hold for all time. Anything else will destroy that. I won’t lose her if she stays that way.

“I just need some time to talk to her, and then I’ll come find you.” I whisper quietly to her; the words feel like nails in my throat, but I keep reminding myself that I have to do this. I can’t keep dangling them both and getting nowhere. One of us has to take action to end this. It has to be me.

“Don’t bother.... Enjoy your night. I’m pretty sure I’m a big girl who can handle it.” Frosty Sophie rears her head, eyes icing me out, face recovering to indifferent mask and she has no clue how deeply it wounds my heart to pull this reaction from her. I almost cave.

The need to pull her towards me and wrap her in my arms has my stomach sinking to my feet painfully and I just want to mend this. Mild panic rises within me, an ache of nausea and doubt so strong, trying to consume me and even my head is tugging me in two ways that maybe this is not what I want after all. Not when faced when saying the words to her.

Stop it, Arry! Stop mind fucking yourself in circles.

Sophie makes a move to walk off, turning on her heel sassily and I catch her wrist. Not ready to let her go. I don’t think I ever will be, so I know this is the right choice for us. Keeping her in my life forever, by being what we have always been. Going backwards to keep her in my future.

I close the gap between us, fitting behind her a little too snugly, so easily, intoxicated by her perfume and body heat, that a new wave of emotion engulfs me warmly. Every tiny thing weakening my resolve

and I know I should let her storm off before I lose my will power and stop what I’m doing. I made a decision, and I need to stick to it.

“We were never going to work. Not if we have to hurt people to even try this, Sophs. I can’t just throw it all away. We can salvage what we are, it doesn’t need to be a choice of you or her. We can get past this because what we have is stronger, you’re stronger.” I try to explain in a few words, but I know that later when we are both sober, I’ll have to do this more fully. Make her understand that I’m doing this for us. She has to see sense in this.

Sophie goes rigid. I feel it in every cell of my body behind her. So small and vulnerable one second and then there she is, my little warrior. Standing tall, bristling with rage, and lifting that defiant chin. It’s the girl I’m counting on to get her through this and find her way back to me. The strong part of her that can overcome anything.

My fighter, my demon girl who would never let this break her down. I’m in awe of this side of her always, proud of it, humbled by it, yet devastated that her appearance is because of what I’m doing to us. She tugs her wrist out of my hand, and I flinch, waiting on the outburst, the rage, the yelling, and the flying to aggression… but it doesn’t come.

She says nothing, silently pulls away and just walks off with purpose. Inflicting a new and different kind of broken response in my heart. She doesn’t look back at me even once; no reaction at all, which blows me away and I’m rooted in stunned silence.

I watch her stalk off, completely in control, head held high and defiant. That part of her that no one can ever touch, that inner strength that is everything I love about Sophie. I wasn’t expecting the non- reaction, or the silent departure and I’m deflated somehow that she didn’t erupt at me in any way.

I guess this is a good sign. That she agrees somewhere deep down, or maybe, she really doesn’t love me in the way she thinks she does.

I know her. Sophie acts out when something cuts deeply, and that reaction was tame. It leaves me empty as I watch her go and stay long seconds after she’s out of sight, a waterfall of chaos pouring through me, and indecisive about what I’ve just done.

Her anticlimactic response has me all messed up again, and a part of me is bereft that maybe she doesn’t love me that way after all. I’m heartbroken instantly, with crushing, suffocating pain, to think that maybe, deep down, she isn’t really in love with me the way I thought she was, and it’s the single worst realization of my life.

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