Page 17 of Tear Me to Pieces
I lived my whole life surrounded by men who never saw me. They didn’t care about me—certainly didn’t love me. My entire existence was about control and manipulation. There was no connection and no conversation. No teamwork and sure as hell no partnership.
And the only way I’ll ever let another man into my life is if he gives me all that and more. I want everything. Someone who talks to me. Someone who takes care of me the way I take care of them. Someone who listens to me and considers how I think and feel.
Someone who tells me how they feel.
When I first came to Memphis, I didn’t think it was a tall order, but now…
Now I’ve seen enough of the world to know better. What Lydia has with Christian is the exception.
And I’m not an exceptional person.
“Your bar should be high.” Simon’s leaning close again, this time with his fork loaded full of fluffy, cheesy scrambled eggs. He holds it in front of my mouth, angling a brow until I open it. After shoveling it in, he reaches out to wipe a bit of loose egg from the corner of my mouth as he says, “If a man wants you bad enough, he’ll climb as far as he has to.”
6
SIMON
“I’msurprised you were able to talk Myra into this.” Christian looks over the main floor of his sister-in-law’s house with the critical eye of a man in his element. “I’ve tried for the past six months to get her to let me get this place done for her, but she wouldn’t fucking have it.”
Keeping my posture loose to hide how much it bothers me that Myra’s been living like this, I follow behind my friend as he moves through the space. “Yeah. She told me about that.”
I think I know why—one of the reasons at least—but I keep it to myself. I don’t want Christian to feel like Myra doesn’t think of him as family, and I don’t want Myra to feel like she can’t open up to me.
I know how hurt Christian would be to know Myra still feels like a visitor here. All of us went a long time without family, and now that we have it, we will do anything for each other. No questions asked. Hearing Myra doesn’t feel the same would be a gut punch.
And knowing Myra feels that way makes me want to protect her even more. Be the person she can trust. The one she can lean on.
The one she can ask for anything.
“You know how overwhelming starting over can be.” I tuck both hands in the pockets of my jeans. “It takes some time to wrap your head around things.”
Christian nods slowly. “I know. I just hate feeling like I can help and knowing Ican’t.”
It’s one of many reasons Myra will eventually trust Christian. Think of him the way he’d like her to. He’s a good person. Has come far enough to understand sometimes you can’t do what you want to do because it’s not what’s best for the other person.
He’s a better man than I am.
“Now you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” I motion toward the two rooms Myra gave me to work on. “Not this area, anyway.”
After we had breakfast, Myra thought over which spots in the house she would allow me to tackle. I wasn’t expecting to get anything important, so I was shocked when she gave me the family room and the front section next to it. Shocked and pleased. I know it’s fucked-up, but the concept of being able to leave my mark on such a significant part of her life satisfied me on a deep—probably dark—level.
“What are you thinking?” Christian braces both hands on his hips as he surveys the task before me. “I’m sure you have ideas.”
I chuckle. “I guess you have known me long enough to assume I’ve got a plan in place before I start.”
Christian gives me the side eye, one corner of his mouth tipping up. “You usually have a plan before you even have a fucking idea.”
I shrug. “You can’t do shit without a plan.” For so long, plans were all I had. Some people would call them hopes and dreams, but that’s not how I saw it. For me, they were intentions. Goals and aspirations.
And I’ve accomplished most of them.
Not all, though.
“Fair enough.” Christian lifts his brows at me. “What’s the plan then?”
I spend the next hour going over some of what I’d like to do. Listening to what he has available for me to work with and working it into my vision. I’ve pushed Myra enough—and likely overstepped—so I want to stay within the parameters of only using materials Christian has laying around his warehouse.
Mostly.
