She nodded, but made no move to initiate. I propped myself on one elbow and reached between us, positioning myself at her entrance. Slowly, I pushed my way inside. She moaned as I entered her, her hands wrapping around my upper arms. She might not remember us doing this before, but her body did and it adapted to mine perfectly. No matter what else had changed, that much was still the same. We were two halves of the same whole.
I locked eyes with her as I rocked against her, short little thrusts to give her a chance to adjust mentally, and when she nodded, I began to move. Long, deliberate strokes designed to reach every place inside her, to make her feel me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, nipples hard. Her fingers dug into my biceps, and her breath came out in little sounds of pleasure. I hadn't thought I'd be able to last when I first entered her. She was tight, so hot, and my body had been begging for release. But as I focused on her, on giving her everything I could, my own need, while not lessening, became not as important.
Her breathing quickened and I saw her eyes glaze over. As her head fell back, I pressed my mouth against her throat, gently sucking on the soft flesh. She said something in Czech as she came, and then said my name. I tensed, the combination of hearing my name and the way her body quivered around mine sent me over the edge. My hips jerked against hers as I emptied myself inside her and I could feel tears burning against my eyelids. I buried my face in the crook of her neck as we gave ourselves over to our pleasure and our grief.
I rolled us over so that we were on our sides, unable to stop the pang of loss as I slid out of her. She didn't see it though as I pulled her back against me, my front flush against her back. I tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, the gesture so familiar that it gave me pause. I'd wanted to give Livie comfort and I'd wanted it from her as well, but I could feel it now, something deeper. A desire to protect her, keep her safe.
Before I could analyze it, try to figure out what it meant, she was pulling away from me, tying her robe shut and standing up. She didn't look at me as she picked up my clothes and tossed them onto the sofa.
“This was an error in judgment,” she said.
I didn't have to see her face to know that those walls had slammed back up. I sat up.
“We cannot be together. You should go.”
“Wait a minute,” I protested as I stood. I started to reach for her, but she jerked away. “Let's at least talk about this.”
“There is nothing to talk about,” she said, still not looking at me. “I am broken, Blayne.” Her voice was flat. “And it seems that I have been this way for a long time. I need to focus on getting well. On dealing with...everything.”
I pulled on my pants, not liking how vulnerable I felt naked. “I'll help you. I've already talked to a psychiatrist.” She stiffened and I quickly explained, “I was trying to figure out what was going on and went to see a doctor I knew. She told me about the options you have.”
I took a step towards her, my shirt in my hands to keep me from trying to touch her again. I needed her to listen, not to close down even more. “No matter what you decide to do, I want to be there for you.” I hesitated, and then added what I was only just now starting to admit to myself. “I want to be with you.”
She shook her head. “You do not love me, Blayne. You loved Katka.” Her voice trembled on the name and then grew strong again. “But she is not real. I am not her.” She crossed her arms, shoulders hunched as if she was trying to protect her heart. “You deserve someone whole. And I wish that for you.”
I opened my mouth to protest again, but she cut me off.
“I will honor our contract so that you will still receive your inheritance, and I will schedule business during family events so you will not need to give an excuse, but we cannot be together. You must leave now.”
There were so many things I wanted to say to her, so many arguments I wanted to make, but nothing would come. She'd closed me out and that was it. There was nothing I could do.
It was over.
Chapter 6
Blayne
I spent the rest of Friday on my couch, staring aimlessly at the television. I didn't care what was on, not even changing the channel when infomercials started. It was all white noise, a buzzing in the background that had no connection with the reality of what I felt.
I kept waiting for the door to open and Livie to walk in, hair pulled back, outfit still perfect despite having been at the studio all day. Or maybe she'd come out of her room after working hard on new sketches and get something to eat. We'd never spent much time together here, but I'd become used to her presence.
And then there was Katka, my Kat. Her easy smile. The way her eyes glowed when she was excited about something.
Around Livie I felt stable, like I could accomplish anything just because she believed I could.
With Katka, I had wanted to be better to deserve her.
For the millionth time, I reminded myself that Katka hadn't been real. All of those things about her that I'd loved, they had been made up by Livie. Her mind had taken the child she'd known and grown her into the woman Livie had thought her sister would become. None of the characteristics that had drawn me to Katka would've existed if Livie hadn't thought of them.
The problem was, I didn't know if that was actually true or not. The more I thought about how different Katka's personality had been from Livie's, the more I realized I was wrong. I remembered conversations I'd had with Livie when she'd been Katka, and how I'd been told that Livie had once been a happy child. Not exactly carefree, but also not the same serious woman I knew. And they had the same strength. Livie's was driving, pushing her towards her goals and perfection. She'd manifested that same trait as Katka through a stubborn streak and a determination.
Then there was how they looked at me. I'd noticed it before but I'd chalked it up to them being twins. I knew now that I hadn't wanted to see it. The depth of faith those women – that woman, I reminded myself – had in me was so unfounded. As herself and as Katka, Livie believed in me. She didn't see me the same way my family did. She didn't even see me the way Samuel did. She thought of me as more.
Even as I laid in bed, attempting to get some sleep, I was forced to admit that the things I'd loved the most about Katka were the same things I'd admired in Livie. Strength. Independence. The way she saw people. The smile was the same, even if Livie showed it far less. The difference, I finally realized, was that Katka had let me love her.
In a way, it was a relief to know that I hadn't been thinking about one woman while in love with the other. I'd been in love with only one woman the entire time. Livie hadn't created some completely foreign personality. All of those parts of Katka had come out of Livie.
At some point during my introspection, I fell asleep. It was a fitful sleep, full of dreams where I was chasing someone I couldn't see. I would wake long enough to know it was a dream, but couldn't stay awake long enough to avoid it happening again. By the time I woke on Saturday morning, I felt more tired than when I'd gone to bed in the first place.
One thing, however, was different. I knew now what I wanted. I may not have fallen in love with Livie the way I had with Katka, but I'd been starting to care about her as more than just a friend before I'd known the truth. Now, I could say I simply loved her, all of her. And I wasn't going to let her go without a fight.
While I showered, I debated about whether or not I should go back to the hotel. I ultimately decided against it. I'd start with a call. I would talk to her, try to get her to see that I could help her, that she didn't have to do it alone. I made the first call as soon as I got out of the shower, but it went to voicemail after a couple of rings.
I waited a couple hours and tried again. This time, it went straight to voicemail and I started to worry. Was she avoiding my calls, or was something wrong? After arguing with myself for a minute, I tried Katka's number. Voicemail again.
By late afternoon, I was back on my couch, even more miserable than before. I'd left messages, but she hadn't called back. I stared at my phone, looking at the two names and numbers until I flicked my thumb across the screen, sending my contact list scrolling. Maybe I should try to get my mind off of things while I waited for Livie to return my call. The problem was, sitting here wasn't doing it.
As if my thoughts had triggered it, my phone rang. For a split second, before the name registered, I thought it might be Livie. It wasn't. It was Tommy. I hadn't heard from him since I'd gotten married, and I hadn't really missed him, but right now, I was willing to talk to pretty much anyone.
“Hey, Tommy.” I managed to keep my voice normal. “It's been a while.”
“Yeah, well, I had a little problem a couple weeks ago and had to make myself scarce. I've been in DC.”
That made me feel better about him. I'd really thought he'd completely blown me off because I wasn't out partying anymore.
“I'm back now,” he continued. “And it's Saturday night. You ready to go. I got some premium shit.”
I closed my eyes. “Tommy, remember when I said I couldn't go out anymore?”
He laughed. “Come on, you can't be serious. There's no way you've gone all this time without some pussy.”
A flare of anger went through me. “I'm married.”
“So?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I'm not cheating on my wife.” There was an ironic amusement in the claim now that I knew I'd never cheated, but I didn't want to think about it.
“You don't have to do anything,” he said. “We'll hit a couple strip clubs, watch hot girls get naked. Get plastered, have some fun.”
“I can't, Tommy.” Even as I said it, I realized it wasn't that I couldn't. I didn't want to. The thought of being packed into a club with a bunch of other men staring at naked half-plastic women while they gyrated to too loud music made my head hurt. And even though a part of me liked the idea of the oblivion offered by alcohol or one of Tommy's special little pills, the majority of me didn't want it.
“Never thought I'd see Blayne Westmore pussy-whipped.”
I hung up the phone without even bothering to respond. Even if he had been telling the truth about why he hadn't talked to me in weeks, it didn't matter. I knew the truth about who Tommy was. I'd always known.
I stared at my phone, waiting to see if he'd call back. He didn't though. It didn't really surprise me, I realized. What did surprise me was how little I cared. Tommy had been my friend for a long time, but I wasn't that person anymore. I saw it clearly now, that person I'd been. Irresponsible, childish, selfish. I'd cared more about what I wanted and how things affected me than I did about other people. I'd treated Samuel like my own personal 'get out of jail free' card and never even stopped to consider how it had affected him. Worse, I'd gotten Livie caught up in my crazy life simply because she'd fulfilled a need. I'd liked her from the moment I'd met her, but I'd still been thinking about myself. Helping her had just been icing on the cake. It hadn't been that I didn't care about other people, only that I'd cared about myself more.
Now, however, even with as much pain as I was in, all I could think about was Livie and how much she was hurting. I wanted to help her, no matter what it cost me. My father's ultimatum had been all about behavior, making me look like a respectable son and someone worthy of our family name. It had done that, but it had also done so much more.
It had made me want to be a better man.
Chapter 7
Livie
I'd had some awful weekends in my life, but nothing compared to the past couple days. I spent the rest of Friday and all of the weekend trying to come to grips not only with my sister's death, but also the realization of what I'd done. All those times I'd thought I'd been caught up in schoolwork or designs, forgetting to eat or losing time. The times I'd convinced myself that I had a headache from being up too late reading, not from a hangover.
I put my hand on my hip.
Or the thousands of times I'd looked at myself in the mirror or in the shower and hadn't seen the tattoo I'd gotten.
I'd done some research too, trying to figure out exactly what this meant, whether or not knowing about Katka would change things. I hadn't really needed to do any of the reading though. I could feel the difference. Acknowledging what had happened, letting myself remember the truth, it had broken something inside me. Memories were beginning to seep through, things from my childhood I hadn't known I'd done. Feelings that weren't mine. The wall that I'd built between Katka and I was cracking.
I hadn't remembered anything to do with Blayne yet, and a part of me was glad. This was hard enough as it was. I couldn’t deal with everything he'd said or done when he'd thought I was her. Then there was my own jealousy of the relationship I'd thought the two of them had enjoyed.
I finished dressing for work without looking in the mirror. I wasn't ready for that yet. Especially not after what happened the last time I'd seen my reflection.
I shook my head. I'd spent the past two days thinking I was losing my mind. Last night, I made the decision that I wasn't going to let this beat me. I'd survived before and I'd do it again. That meant getting to my feet and not sitting around, letting the thoughts overwhelm me. I was going to work.
I arrived at the studio a little after six and breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped inside. I'd only been here a short time, but this place was mine. If there was one thing that could keep me focused and my mind off of things, it was my work. I took a seat at my desk, pulled out my sketchpad and began to draw, losing myself in the art.