Everything I Failed To Be
Chapter Nine
Time: August 1982
Sharon sat in her car and stared at the slightly run down apartment building she had parked in front of. It was a sad, depressing place, paint coming off the weathered, wooden walls in large flakes, the metal stairs that lead to the second and third floor rusty and barely safe for walking on. The units did not look much better from the inside, she knew. And yet, it was inside one of these small, dark apartments that she had found more warmth, and love, and joy than in her own small, but much more luxurious home. In fact, it had stopped feeling like a home months ago, when all she had found there had been either loneliness or a drunk, distracted, and distant husband who found fault with everything she did or said.
Despite her resolve to keep her distance from Andy after that night at the hotel more than half a year before, she had turned to him to fill the void Jack had left in her life. As Andy's attempts to save his own marriage had been unsuccessful, he had held on to her just has tightly as she to him. Sharon realized that they were both going for the easier way; that giving up on their spouses and giving in to each other was nothing more than a cowardly escape from reality, but she was sick of fighting that fight. Unless Jack decided to at least try and help her, she would never win, so what was the point?
Only an hour earlier, she had come home to find an intoxicated Jack eating a burger while sitting on their brand new sofa. The kitchen had looked like it had been raided by a horde of hungry frat boys, and even from the door she had been able to see crumbs, and lettuce, and greasy fries scattered all over the beige fabric and the floor around Jack's feet. She had come off an endless, emotionally taxing double shift and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and fall into bed. Instead, she had tried to make Jack understand why his behavior angered her. His reaction had been insults hurled at her as his plate had landed on the upholstery next to him. They had fought before, but that time had been worse than usual. Sharon had never had reason to fear for her safety with Jack, but his verbal abuse hit her just as hard as his fists would have. She usually ended their arguments by locking herself in the bedroom, making clear that he would be spending the night on the couch. When she had locked the door behind her this time, tears running down her cheeks, part anger and part pain, her sanctuary had seemed too small, the walls closing in on her, suffocating her. She had packed a small bag with the most essential things and walked out of the house without another word to Jack, his enraged shouts less and less audible with every step she took away from their door.
There had been no question of where she would go. Several weeks ago, after they had given up the last pretence that they would stop having sex or that it was nothing more than a casual affair between them, Andy had asked her to leave Jack and move in with him. She had told him that she could not do it. She had not been willing to give up on her marriage back then. Maybe he had been right, though. Maybe it was time to let go of something that brought her nothing but pain and start over. Her parents would be disappointed in her for not honouring her vows, but in the end it was her life and her decision. She had given Jack more than enough chances, had asked him what she could do to make him feel better, what he needed from her to make it work. She had begged, and charmed, and cried, and yelled, but nothing had changed. He did not seem to be willing to meet her halfway.
Andy on the other hand had been waiting for her to take a step towards him for weeks, and she was finally ready to do that. She was ready to start living her life again, with him. That did not make her decision to leave Jack any easier, nor did it lessen the pain of his latest verbal attacks. Despite having fallen in love with Andy, Sharon still loved her husband, and letting go of that was breaking her heart. Wiping at her cheeks in a vain attempt of hiding her tears, Sharon climbed out of the car, locked the door, and walked towards the rickety stairs. The metal creaked and groaned with every step she took, and she was glad once she had made it to the second floor. With one last deep breath, Sharon knocked on Andy's door, anxious to see him and to feel his strong arms around her.
When he opened the door, Sharon wordlessly stepped into his embrace, her hands slipping around him and her face turning into his neck. His warmth seeped through her clothes and his familiar, comforting scent soothed her aching heart and confirmed her belief that she was making the right decision in leaving Jack. And yet, the guilt was still there, gnawing at her, whispering in the back of her mind of cowardice and sin, trying to rob her of the peace and sense of belonging she felt with Andy. She did not want to listen to it. Not tonight.
Sharon sensed that he wanted to say something; that he wanted to ask what had brought her to his door at that time of night, and why she was crying, but she did not want to talk. Talking meant giving room to the guilt; it meant risking for it to change her mind. Instead, she wanted to silence it, to drown it out with love and passion until it yielded to the overwhelming evidence that her choice was right.
Andy grunted in surprise when she shoved him against the wall of his small, dark hallway, her foot kicking the door closed as she grabbed his face with both hands and captured his lips with her own. It only took him a split second to catch on and respond to her heated kiss, opening his mouth to her insisting tongue, and meeting it with his own for a heated duel. His hands slid up and down her sides, his thumbs grazing her breasts, drawing a moan from her. Fire burned in her veins, hot and fast, and she could not get enough of it. She pushed against him, biting at his lower lip when he took hold of her hips and pulled her against him, making her feel the effect she was having on him.
Andy was trying to slow her down, his caresses gentle and slow, a counterpoint to her own desperation, but slow was not what she needed. She wanted him to make her forget, to take possession of her body and her soul and brand her as his. She needed him to claim her and erase any memory of another's touch.
Tugging at the hem of his white t-shirt, she pushed it up and over his head, missing the touch of his hands on her when he raised his arms to help her undress him, but they returned even before the soft fabric hit the floor. Sharon latched onto his neck, biting and licking her way down, leaving angry, red marks all the way down to his flat nipples. She relished his groans and hisses, knowing that the pain she inflicted would push the limits of his control; that he would answer her wordless plea to let go.
Sinking to her knees in front of him, she dragged his sweatpants down and watched him step out of them. Her hands slid up and down his thighs, the coarse hair tickling her palm as she urged him to move his feet further apart. One of her hands closed around his hard length in a firm grip, moving up and down as her other hand cradled his balls, squeezing until she felt his body tense in a mixture of fear and arousal. His hands slipped into her hair, tugging her closer to his twitching member, and she complied with his silent request. She let her tongue circle around his head a few times, teasing him just a little more, before she let him slide past her lips.
His grip on her hair was almost painful as he used it to control her movements, to push himself deeper and force her to swallow him. When he pushed too far, she tightened her grip on his balls a little more, a wordless, but unmistakable threat, and he backed off again, just enough for her to relax her hold on him. It was the struggle for dominance, the slight edge of danger each posed to the other, which fuelled their passion, which had her core throbbing with the need to be touched. It would not take much for her to find her release. It never did when she could tempt him into losing control.
Andy's thrusts became harder and faster, indicating that he was getting close to his breaking point. Humming around his length, she drew a groan from him, his hips surging towards her with even more force, nearly knocking her backwards. She let one finger slide over the soft skin behind his balls, pressing gently and inching further back, teasing, threatening. It was enough for him to gently push her head back until he slipped out of her mouth, his member glistening with her saliva and bouncing in front of her face. She planted a quick kiss on its tip before he helped her up, spun them around and pressed her back against the wall, pinning her to it with his body.
The shock of their suddenly changed positions still shuddered through her when his lips were on hers once again, tongues fighting for dominance as they shared his taste. Andy frantically tugged at her shirt, breaking their kiss only long enough to rid her of it. He cupped her breasts through the dark blue lace of her bra, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, the feeling of the coarse fabric between them and his touch sending jolts of pleasure along her nerves right to her core. His lips moved down her neck, his teeth scraping along her pulse point and nibbling at the sensitive skin over her collarbone. He drew random patterns across her chest with his tongue, capturing the edge of her bra between his teeth and tugging it down to free her right breast. He circled her nipple with his tongue, lapping at it and suckling it until she shivered, before he bit down hard enough to make her whimper. Somehow, Andy always managed to capture that sweet spot between pain and pleasure, and she arched her back in reaction, urging him to go on, to take more.
He gladly complied, opening the clasp of her bra and dragging it down her arms as his attention shifted to her other breast. Sharon was almost incoherent with desire by the time he finally unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, slipping his hand inside to cup her mound. She moaned in frustration when he let it simply rest there, the damp fabric of her panties keeping it from touching her the way she wanted. She rocked her hips into his hand, seeking more stimulation. Her whimpers and moans increased in volume with every passing moment, until he finally slipped his fingers past the hindering fabric and between her wet folds. She was so ready for him, every nerve ending tingling, waiting for a little more, for that last push.
Andy knew her body, the way it responded to him, what she needed. He pushed her pants and panties down her legs far enough that she was able to step out of them. He nudged her legs further apart with his foot until her muscles protested and her balance became precarious. Cold air hit her sensitive skin, making her feel exposed and sending a shiver down her spine, but all that was forgotten as soon as he slipped a third finger inside her, setting a hard, fast pace that made her head spin. When he captured one of her nipples between his teeth and bit down hard once again, his thumb pressing against her clit and letting her create the stimulation she needed as she rolled her hips, she came apart in a violent explosion of passion, her inner muscles clenching around his fingers and her hands tugging at his short hair, pulling him against her chest as she screamed her release, not caring if his neighbors heard her.
Her knees felt wobbly and she was grateful for the support of Andy's arms and the wall at her back that kept her from crumbling to the ground. His lips were soft as he placed gentle kisses against her temple, pulling her body close and burying a hand in her thick hair. Her head rested against his chest, his rapid heartbeat indicating how affected he was. She revelled in the feeling of his skin against hers, of the heat emanating from his body, of the solid flesh twitching against the soft pillow of her stomach. Her body still shook with the effects of her release, but her hunger for him had not lessened. With every breath she took, her heartbeat slowed down and her troubled thoughts and worries came back. They were unwelcome, and Sharon was resolved to keep them at bay for as long as possible.
A devious grin crept onto her face as she gently swayed her hips and elicited an almost pained groan from Andy. She admired his restraint, but it was entirely misplaced at that moment. Capturing his lips in another heated kiss, she nudged him backwards in the direction of his small bedroom. They blindly stumbled down the short hallway, bumping into walls and taking a small break against the doorframe, hands eagerly exploring every bit of bare skin they could reach, before they continued their journey. When the back of his legs hit the mattress at the end of the bed, she gave him a shove, satisfied with his surprised grunt as he landed on his back. She barely gave him a chance to scoot further onto the bed before she crawled after him, straddling his hips, moaning as she rubbed her slick folds along his length. Without wasting another moment, Sharon slipped her hand between their bodies and curled her fingers around him, guiding him towards her entrance.
As she slowly sank down, her muscles adjusting to his size, Sharon leaned back, bracing her hands on Andy's thighs, and let out a long sigh, enjoying the sensation of being joined with him. His hands on her butt prompted her into moving, her hips rolling at a quick pace as he caressed her sides and breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers and tugging on them until the pleasant pain made her gasp. He tried to sit up in order to shower her neck and chest with kisses, but she did not allow it. Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she pushed him back down roughly, putting her weight on him as she rode him hard and fast. In retaliation, his palm landed on her behind with a resounding slap, making her hiss and thrust against him even harder.
With every roll of her hips, with every thrust, with every time that he filled her, Sharon's desperation for release grew. Her fingers curled into the skin of his chest, her nails leaving red marks. She was so close. Her body was on fire, passion burning along her veins, making her spine tingle and her belly tighten. The heat was almost too much; it scorched her skin, ignited every fibre of her being, but it was not enough. Andy had a firm grip on her hips, pulling her down into his thrusts as he bucked beneath her. She was certain that her skin would bear visual evidence of that night, but she did not care. She chased after her elusive release, ready to leap, her sighs and moans mixing with his groans to create a symphony of passion. When one of his hands moved so that his thumb rested over her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, Sharon tumbled over the edge once more, moaning his name as her walls quivered around him.
Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but she could not breathe. Every muscle in her body trembled with ecstatic tension before it left her from one second to the next and she slumped down into Andy's waiting arms. He hugged her close to his chest once again, his hands stroking up and down her back in a soothing caress. It took a long moment for her to realize that he was still hard inside her, and the slightly pained expression on his face confirmed that he had held back his own release.
A moment later she found herself on her back with Andy hovering above her, joining their bodies again in one long, slow thrust. He stayed there, sheathed inside her, his body covering hers and his hands cupping her cheeks. He stared into her eyes, a wealth of emotions visible in his gaze as he let his fingers feather over her skin, mapping every inch of her face, her neck, and her chest as if he were trying to memorize her. His eyes never left hers, searching their depth for something, touching upon a part of her heart and soul that seemed to exist solely for him, that bore his mark and came alive with the spark of love and wonder he communicated with every glance, with every touch, and with every word.
When he started to move, his thrusts were slow and gentle, his touch and gaze so loving that it brought tears to her eyes. In all the months they had indulged in this affair, they had never once truly made love. They had had many passionate encounters, which had gradually evolved from impulsive, casual sex to something deeper, something truly beautiful and precious. And yet, it had never felt like this, it had never been love before.
Despite the slowness of his thrusts and his obvious determination to soak up every moment, to make it last as long as possible, Andy's control was slipping, his need for release too great to suppress anymore. His movements became more and more irregular, his muscles trembling beneath her hands. Sharon wrapped her arms and legs around him, cradling him to her as she welcomed his steadily growing desire. She knew that she would not climax again – not after two rather mind-blowing orgasms, but somehow this felt even better. She was not selfishly focused on her own release. Instead, she was able to experience the beauty of his passion fully without any distractions. When he came apart in her arms, his loud groan music to her ears, she tightened her hold on him even more, offering comfort and shelter in this moment of profound vulnerability. Never before had Sharon felt so deeply connected to another human being as she did in those seconds when Andy allowed himself to rest in her arms, boneless and sated, his head on the pillow next to hers, their cheeks touching.
Only when he had regained some control over his limbs did he roll off of her. She hummed quietly, disappointed when he slipped from her body. Andy pulled her with him, slipping his arms around her and tucking her against his side, as unwilling to lose their closeness as she was. They lay next to each other, their legs tangled together and her head resting on his chest, hands tirelessly travelling over still moist skin. The streetlamps in front of the building bathed the room in a soft light and the air was filled with the sound of traffic, the neighbor's television, and their own gradually calming breathing.
For the first time in months, Sharon truly felt at peace, like she belonged, and her heart was close to bursting with the love she felt for this man. For the first time in months, she was not afraid to admit to herself that she did indeed love him. For the first time in months, she allowed herself to imagine a future with him, to let go of her guilt and let happiness and hope fill her soul.
Turning her face into his neck, she kissed him gently, inhaling his intoxicating scent. Her lips moved against his pulse point as she spoke, her words quiet, only just loud enough for him to hear.
"I love you."
Andy pulled her even closer, pressing his lips into her hair. He held her for a long moment, wordlessly, barely breathing, and his body tense once more. Even before he spoke, Sharon knew that he would break her heart, and she held her own breath in anticipation of his words.
"Amanda asked me to come home," he whispered into her hair, his voice close to breaking.
Sharon moaned quietly, pain slicing through her as if he had slowly pierced her heart with a knife. Her lungs once again refused to expand, burning with the lack of oxygen. She felt as if someone had suddenly ripped the rug out from underneath her feet, her head spinning as she fought for something solid to hold onto. She wanted to scream at him, but she had no breath to form words. She wanted to push him away, to create as much distance between them as possible, she wanted to beat her fists against his chest, but she was unable to move. Instead, she just lay there, motionless, her head resting on his chest. Silent tears ran down her cheek as the full weight of his words hit her.
For a long time, she had tried to come to terms with the fact that she loved a man who was not capable of returning those feelings completely. She had resigned herself to being more committed to her marriage than her husband. That was until she had fallen in love with a man who loved her just as much, who wanted her more than his next drink or the thrill of an exciting bet. She had felt horrible for betraying her husband, and she had tried to push her feelings for Andy aside until that had no longer been possible. Just as she was ready to move on with him, he walked away from her, from them.
"If it weren't for Nicole… I'm so sorry, Sharon. I wish…" Andy took a deep breath, tightening his arms around her once more, his embrace almost painful, before he continued. His voice rumbled deep in his chest, raspy with sadness. He nuzzled her hair gently, planting soft kisses against her forehead. "This doesn't change how much I lo…"
Sharon bolted from his arms, her sudden movement shocking him into silence. She held up her hand and shook her head, her teary eyes pleading with him not to say it. "Don't! Just… don't," she whispered before she turned away and walked over to the window, grabbing his robe from the back of a chair on the way and hastily struggling into it. She stood with her back towards him, her arms wrapped around her body in an effort to find some comfort where there was none. She drew several shaky breaths before she felt like she had enough control over her voice to speak again. This time, she sounded almost emotionless, as if she were discussing a slightly regrettable decision at work instead of their broken hearts. Only the trembling of her hands and her slightly deeper tone betrayed her true emotional state.
"You're right, of course. We should never have let it get this far. It was stupid to think that… Never mind. I should go now."
She walked out into the hallway towards the front door and the pile of clothes they had so carelessly discarded earlier, getting dressed as quickly as possible. Andy followed her, his heart heavy with the thought of letting go of her. He took the sweatpants that she wordlessly handed to him and put them on while he thought of something to say that would change her mind, something that would change the way things had to be. He was unable to come up with anything.
When Sharon had finished dressing, she turned towards him, but her eyes would not meet his. They were red-rimmed and glistened with fresh tears that spilled past her lashes and ran down her cheeks, an endless stream that painted a picture of misery onto her beautiful features. She reached out towards him, her fingertips feathering over his chest, barely touching, but it was enough to send a spark of electricity through his skin, right into his heart underneath, making it jolt painfully. He captured her hand in his and pressed it more firmly against his chest, trying to hold on to her for a little while longer.
"I'll take a few days off. I think a little distance will be good for both of us. I really hope you can work things out with Amanda. You both deserve another chance, and so does Nicole." Sharon swallowed past the lump in her throat, withdrawing her hand from his grasp and taking a step back. "Take care of yourself, Andy."
Barely managing to hold back a sob, she spun on her heel, opened the door and practically sprinted down the wobbly stairs. Her chest ached almost unbearably as she kept holding most of her pain inside. Just a few more steps, she kept repeating to herself until she finally reached the relative safety of her car. Blindly fumbling to insert the key into the ignition, she wiped at her eyes with her free hand, trying to clear them enough to drive. All she wanted was to get away from him, away from where he could see her lose control over her emotions completely. Sharon was determined to never let him find out how much he had hurt her by going back to his wife. She would deal with her broken heart in solitude, and once she returned to work, she would be in complete control once again. She would be his colleague and maybe, with a little more time, they would be able to regain some of their previous closeness – as friends.
~TBC~
