Page 34 of Fight from the Heart

“What?” I’d cut her off immediately because I’d heard of her. She’d hated my prior release—Where the Wolves Hunt—ripping about the fantasy thriller as unrealistic and almost childish compared to my other stories. As I’d loved that book, her review was harsh. Not that I normally react to reviews, but for some reason, hers really hit home, especially because her prior reviews were eloquently written, dissecting the subtleties within my stories, and even finding nuggets I hadn’t consciously made. She was excellent at deciphering my work, so I didn’t like her disappointment in that one book. I asked her to read for me, and so our history began. She’s been my muse ever since, and I’ve won three major awards with her assistance.

While I’m typically cavalier about people in my life, letting them walk away if they wish, I’m not so carefree about Pam. I want to argue with myself that it’s her inspiration I can’t dismiss, but it isn’t just her award-winning assistance. I’d miss her. She doesn’t take my shit, and the underlying current that she could walk away from me easier than I can with her tells me I don’t want to lose her on a deeper level. I just don’t know what that level is.

+ + +

The next day, Ella calls to ask me to join her and Ethan for dinner at their new place. I jump at the chance as I need to get out of my own house. Everywhere here is a reminder of Pam. She’s been an integral part of my home for over two years, and now, it’s as if she’s imprinted on everything. My bed. The couches. Even my pots and pans.

“What can I bring?” I ask Ella, knowing I’ll need to stop at the Bear’s Den for anything she suggests.

“Just you. Ethan has the rest covered.” My lucky sister has a live-in chef and future restaurant owner as her lover-roommate.

When I arrive at their house, I find I’m not the only guest.

“Lilac.” Her name is a breath of fresh air like the scent of her skin. In return, she glares at me like I’m the boogeyman, haunting her.

“Jacob.” Her voice is as sharp, but I step up to her terse address. Kissing her cheek, I want to give her so much more but restrain myself. Ella’s attention swivels from me to Pam, staring at us, but I ignore my sister’s questioning gaze.

“Hey, guys,” Ethan greets me as he enters their entryway. The tension is so thick. He looks at Pam, then me, and back at Pam. He steps up and kisses her cheek as I did, and I’d want to punch him if I didn’t know he loved my sister. “Come on in.”

Ethan leads us farther into their cozy cottage house, which appears tight compared to the sprawl of my own home. Ella beams as she looks up at Ethan, her arms wrapped around him as he gives us the quick tour. Our final stop is in their kitchen where he’s preparing a meal, and Ella pours us all wine.

“To challenges,” Ethan cheers, and my eyes leap to Pam, who ignores me. What Pam and I did the other night was a risk, and I haven’t been so certain it was worth it. I mean, it was amazing, but I can’t handle her silence. We should talk, but I hate explaining myself. What would I even say to her? I don’t have any fucking idea. I can’t tell her how I feel even though plenty bled from my lips the other night. I told her she was beautiful. I told her how amazing she felt around me. I told her how I’d been waiting for such a long time to enter her. I couldn’t help myself. The reality was so much more than the fantasy. I’m rock-hard, just recalling the night, but it’s evident we need to talk, and I hate these kinds of discussions.

I don’t want to complicate things. It was just sex.

But as I look over at Pam, ignoring me and listening to Ethan talk about something, I realize it isn’t so simple as just sex.

This is Pam. My Lilac. My angel.

After a few sips of wine and casual talk about dinner, Ethan says it’s ready for our tasting, and he leads us to their small dining room. Ella sits at a right angle to Ethan, which places Pam across from her. As I sit next to Pam, the energy coming off her suggests she’ll stab me with a butter knife.

We dig into Ethan’s dinner, a specialty item he’s hoping to have on the menu of his soon-to-open restaurant. Traditional pot roast with new seasonings, plus petite potatoes boiled to perfection and cooked carrots, which I normally don’t like, but he’s found the ideal consistency for them—still firm while hot. Dinner continues with a conversation about Ethan’s restaurant and Ella’s company, Fabulously Flawed. Her business is a clothing line she designed. Pam and I listen intently and ask appropriate questions but don’t speak directly to one another.

I hate the tension.

This isn’t like Mandi, who can hold a grudge and then turn on me to wind me up. This is Pam, who I fear could keep silent forever, and I have only myself to blame.

As dinner ends, Pam volunteers to do the dishes with Ella while Ethan and I take a seat in their living room with nothing more than a saggy couch and a leather recliner.

“What’s the deal with you two?” Ethan says, leaning forward and directing his gaze toward the kitchen. Admittedly, I don’t have many friends, and I shortchanged Ethan after he slept with my sister. Over time, he’s grown on me, and I consider him a friend.

“Who knows?” I state, blowing off the question while feeling guilty. I know exactly what’s wrong. Pam thinks I tried to pay her for services the other evening. I’ve never done such a thing, nor will I ever, and I definitely was not paying Pam to have sex with me.

“You know there was a time I thought you might be using Pam for sexual favors.”

“What?” I choke.

“Thought once I’d met you, I’d have to hurt you if you were using her like that.”

“I’d never do any such thing,” I stammer, still fighting the suffocating lump in my throat.

“So if you weren’t paying her for sexual affairs, when did you start giving them to her?”

I cough even harder now, no longer able to control whatever is choking me. “What?”

“I know a woman scorned when I see one, and you did something to her. She can hardly look at you. Was it Mandi? Did she catch you two in the act? Are you two back together?” Ethan shivers.

“Why would Pam care about Mandi and me?” It’s half dismissive, half inquiry. Pam never discusses Mandi with me. Then I consider the other night, outside the pharmacy, and Pam’s hint of jealousy. Has it bothered her that I’ve had Mandi in my life?