Ivy - A Kaylor AU

Chapter 11

Taylor

Karlie's piercing green stare was full of concern, it seemed to convey all the genuine fondness she had towards me.  It was something that I had never experienced before and something that I couldn't look away from.  And while her stare was mesmerizing, I'm sure mine was bleary from crying.

Despite that fact, my heart jumped when she dropped her hand from mine and ran it up my arm and into my hair while never looking away from my eyes.  She broke eye contact, and her eyes flicked downward. I swallowed hard, only seconds before her lips were on mine.

My body tensed before relaxing into her hold and returning her kiss after a moment, everything seemed to fit into place like a puzzle piece. Her lips were soft and smooth against mine, and the sweet scent of vanilla overtook my senses and made me feel like we were in our own world. The kiss was gentle and sweet, her fingers rubbing the spot where they were threaded through my hair. The overwhelming, emotional daze was like ecstasy.

When we broke apart, Karlie rested our foreheads together, breathing heavily.  She gave me a goofy smile before leaning back in to press several soft, chaste kisses to my lips as my breathing continued to labor.

As the world focused back around me, I felt the cold bite of the bathroom tile against my bottom first.  The heaviness of my eyes and the tight sensation on my cheeks from the tear tracks set in next, and I was sure I was swollen from the crying. My phone is still open to my right with many messages from Joe.  All of a sudden, the sinking pit in my stomach and the racing heartbeat have returned.

Karlie seems to have noticed, as the smile slowly fades from her face. I quickly scoot out of her reach, grabbing my phone as I stagger to my feet.

I can't even think before I'm rushing, through the house and out of the front door.  I barely register Karlie calling for me softly before I am at a full sprint on the sidewalk.  My bare feet pound against the pavement, a decision I'm sure I'll regret later, but something far towards the back of my mind.

My lungs are burning by the time I make it all the way home, but it only feels right that I'm in pain.  I work on mostly catching my breath before walking through the front door, trying to mentally prepare myself for facing an irate Joe.

Instead, I'm greeted with silence and a fluffy white kitten at my feet. I ease further into the house slowly, preparing to encounter anything on my way.  I keep my steps quiet as I pass the living room.

I let out a sigh of relief to see Joe asleep on the couch, still in his clothes from the night before but now wrinkled and disorderly. I quickly entered the bedroom and eased the door shut quietly behind myself.

I entered the en suite bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was in disarray, sticking up in some places, and my bangs were completely matted to my forehead from sweat. My eyes were puffy, and my cheeks were wind-burnt.

I ran a finger across the outline of my lips, still feeling the sensation of Karlie's against them.  They felt swollen, though I think I could be imagining it since the kiss was nothing but gentle.

I turned the sink on and let the cold water pour out of the tap. I placed my hands beneath the stream and splashed the frigid water on my face, attempting to scrub away any evidence of her.

After I felt sufficiently cleansed, I worked on taming my hair, pulling it back into a simple low ponytail and wrangling my bangs back into place.  The Taylor in the mirror was now one that was familiar, piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

The only things remaining of Karlie were the sweatpants that hung loosely on my hips and the old T-shirt. I crept from the bedroom and into my closet, switching them for the designer-matching athleisure Joe had bought for me to attend personal training after Giulia insinuated I was pregnant. I hid away the clothes behind my pajamas; Joe would never find them, as I was the one responsible for the laundry.

Even though I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the neatly made covers and cry for the rest of eternity, I forced myself to sit on top of them and pull my latest read into my lap.  Meredith soon joined me, curled up in between my legs as I reread the same sentence for the tenth time.  I mindlessly stroked her fur and attempted not to think about how different things felt with a certain brunette compared to Joe.

I jumped slightly when the door to the bedroom opened abruptly, swinging and hitting the wall behind it as Joe staggered through.  His blonde hair was sticking up from sleep, and his eyes were still heavy.  Nonetheless, his stare bore into me from six feet away.

"What the bloody hell, Taylor? Where have you been? I thought you were somewhere dead on the side of the road or that freak kidnapped you," he states, his voice slightly raised, yet shaky.  His hand was in a tight fist at his side, and I could see the tension in his clenched jaw as he waited for my response.

"I'm fine, Joe. Karlie had to go home and relieve her sitter, that's all. My phone died, or I would have texted you," I lied easily. My phone hadn't been dead, but it surely did not cross my inebriated brain to send a text to Joe in the moment.

"None of this would've happened if you hadn't gotten completely sloshed.  Do you know how many excuses I had to make for you? How bad it looked to not have my future bride by my side as I announced my run for mayor?" He seethed, stepping closer to where I was seated on the bed.  Meredith took off in a flash of white fur for the door.  I couldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry," I mumble in response, bowing my head as tears start to flood my eyes. Every day, I try to do my best to support Joe, but it seems that no matter how hard I try, I am always messing something up.

I hadn't intended on getting drunk.  But on the very little I had for dinner that night, it didn't take more than a few glasses of champagne to get me there.  Then, I was over the edge of no return.  Everything that happened after was just a snowball of my bad choices.

"You're sorry?" He asked, stepping into my personal space and grabbing ahold of my wrists.  "That's all you have to say for yourself?" He yelled, tightening his grip on my wrists.

I attempted to wriggle out of his hold, but it only grew tighter.  The tears were freely flowing now.

"I never meant to embarrass you, Joe," I sobbed.  "Please, you have to believe it was an honest mistake."

He released my wrists, the suddenness of the withdrawal causing me to fall back into the pillows.  I instinctually moved to rub the area, attempting to soothe the angry, red fingerprints away. 

"Get it together, Taylor.  We have six months until our wedding and no wife of mine will behave like this."

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.  I rolled over onto my stomach and sobbed violently into the pillow, my wrists still aching. I felt guilty about betraying Joe in more ways than he was even aware of. 

Joe and I had been together for nearly six years.  My dad introduced us in my senior year of college when Joe started working at the same firm as my dad but in the legal department.  They quickly bonded over Joe's political aspirations and his endearing lack of knowledge of American sports.

I had always been a daddy's girl, so when he introduced Joe and me, it seemed only natural that we get to know each other better. I found his floppy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes endearing and loved how easily he fit into my family life.

Now, as I closed my eyes, I could only picture those familiar green eyes, warm like birch tree leaves in the summer breeze.  Their gaze haunts my memory, replaying the way they flicked from my eyes and then lowered before lips crashed into mine.

Warmth spread through my chest at the memory.  The radiance was all-encompassing and eventually reached the tips of my fingers and toes.  A feeling that was foreign, yet familiar.  Nerve-wracking, but comforting.  Yet every time, the thought fleeted and was replaced by existential dread. Another sob escaped my lips. This time, not from guilt, but because of the realization that it could never happen again.