A
Perfect Failure
Warning: This excerpt contains mature content and language.
Travis
leaned on the thick mattress, his breath coming in hard bursts as his heart
beat against the inside of his chest until he thought it would burst. Jayla’s
onyx hair was splayed across the sheets, covering her perfectly made-up face
and her toned, tanned ass still shuddered against his hips. He withdrew himself
from her, his stomach churning for a moment, and turned away to walk into the
bathroom, flipping on the water in the large, glass shower and shutting the
door behind him.
“Hey, your money’s on the nightstand. I’ll call you.”
Travis called out. She knew the deal. It was time to go. There were no
overnights in this arrangement. He heard her mumble something while she stalked
around the room gathering her clothes and he stepped into the shower, ignoring
her and letting the scalding water wash away the smell of her overpriced
perfume and the feeling of her fake nails on his skin. He didn’t relax until he
heard the door to the condo slam shut behind her.
The water washed
over his closed eyes and Mikaela’s face danced through his mind, taunting him
even from the grave. His heart ached at the sight of her and he suddenly felt
ashamed that he had just finished fucking someone else. I’d be fucking her if she were still here, he thought, the guilt still
taking his breath away. He’d watched her wilt before his eyes, the cancer
eating away at her perfect, beautiful body until there was almost nothing left.
He’d gotten 2 months, 60 measly days, as her husband before she had taken her
last breath lying in his arms in that disgustingly small hospital room. He
hadn’t been able to save her no matter what he did. He had failed her.
Anger stirred within him and he shut the water off,
stepping from the shower and grabbing a thick towel from the shelf, rubbing his
skin violently until it stung. She had been his everything since the day he had
first met her as a freshman in high school. Her bright blue eyes and soft, golden
hair were the complete opposite of his dark, tanned skin, black hair and
mischievous green eyes, and he was hooked. She saw right through his bad-boy
attitude and made him want to be better. More than that, she saw him, and she loved and accepted all of him.
Not even his own family did that. She was so much better than anyone else he
had ever known, and he couldn’t even repay the favor by saving her when she
needed him.
It doesn’t matter
now, he thought bitterly. She’s gone.
In the wake of her death, he had lost nearly everything. The grief had almost
swallowed him whole, and he felt himself reverting back to his bad-boy days. He
brought women around to pleasure him, then discarded them like trash. He didn’t
need someone to cuddle with, he just needed to get off. No one would replace
Mikaela, and he wasn’t interested in wasting his time trying, so he focused all
his energy on being a successful businessman instead. He should have been
ecstatic with the accomplishments he had made since Mikaela had died last year.
His business was booming, his sex life was enviable and he had every little toy
and material thing he had every yearned for while he was with Mikaela. But she
wasn’t here to share any of his success with. In the large mirror behind him,
Travis caught the reflection of the tattoo that spread across his back: vivre senza rimpianti. The thick black
letters scrolled across his back and his chest tightened, remembering his
honeymoon in Italy with Mikaela. He had proposed getting the tattoos while
there and she had eyed him nervously as they stood in the dusty, dark shop,
browsing through books, her blue eyes shining with excitement and fear all at
once. “I want something meaningful,”
her voice echoed in his mind. “There,”
she had pointed in the book to the saying across his back, “live without regret. Perfect.” She had
smiled up at him, banning the fear from her eyes, and nodded at the tattoo
artist, “I’ll get one too. The same
saying, here,” she’d said, lifting her shirt and pointing to her lower
back. He closed his eyes, remembering making love to her later that night, his
eyes never leaving the tiny scrolled letters across her lower back. Everything will be ok, he’d thought in
that moment. I’ll make it be ok. What a joke Travis thought as he yanked
on his PJ pants, tying them loosely around his hips. Over a year later and he
was still trying to convince himself that it would be ok…ever.
Peace & Love
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