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*** Karis' POV***

Waking up, I feel the guilt. This man has no idea what he has done. I'm unclean, unworthy. I don't deserve Vance. I never did.

Silently, I slip from the bed. My heart pushes against my ribs. Lungs expanding, I take deep breaths to keep from losing my hold on my only source of life.

Stepping into the shower, I cringe. I can feel him inside of me, moving with me. I have sucker punched Vance into believing I was enough. I'm not. I didn't mean to. I will never be good enough. He has to see that before I unwillingly destroy him.

Scrubbing every inch of my flesh, tears pour down my face to be washed away with the steady stream from the shower head. It's me. I'm the fuck up. Every time I attempt to do anything right, I screw it up. Why can't I just stay to myself? How come I can't be satisfied as just a human walking the Earth alone?

A deep sob escapes from my chest. I push my hand into my flesh. My heart steadily pounds against my palm. I give great effort to hold myself together. My fingers cover my mouth. What have I done? The scream is silent. The only proof that I am breaking are the tears that seamlessly merge with the water.

Everything inside of me is breaking, tiny fissures now feel like gaping tears. I just want to be normal. I don't want to destroy innocent people. Why am I so fucking hard to love? Why can't I be a calming peace? I feel more like a devastating tornado. Surely, I will disrupt anything and anyone who stands in my path.

I have no idea how long I stand in the shower judging myself. When my skin prickles with goosebumps, it registers in my mind that I have been here too long. Shutting off the water, I reach for a towel. It takes a moment to realize that the towel has come to me, not the other way around.

"I apologize." Vance quickly looks away as if we were not joined inside of one another an hour before. The memories wash over me, blushing my cheeks immediately. I don't meet his eyes. I train my stare on the tiled floor as I step away from the shower.

"Are you okay? How is your head space?" Vance questions my emotional stability as he turns away from me like the gentleman that he is. It is just another reason that I do not belong here, with him.

"Fine. I'm great." I hide the sniffle in my towel as I dry my hair thoroughly.

"Get dressed, please. We need to talk." Vance walks away. I can feel the cold aura that fills the space where his warm masculinity had just occupied. I fucked up, again. When will it stop?

I take my time getting dried off before dressing. Brushing my teeth, I try to rinse a handful of cool water over my swollen eyes. One look in the mirror tells me that there is no hope. I'm going to look like the hot mess that I am. It's inevitable.

The walk through the bedroom reminds me that we fornicated here earlier. The rumpled sheets have been removed. The bed lays bare in the spacious room. I turn away from the proof that I have already tarnished this before it even began.

We need to talk.

I suppose we do. I need to apologize. I need to gather my belongings and leave. It then occurs to me that we are at my house. I guess he will be the one leaving. It's okay. That is what needs to happen. I'm going to be fine.

Weird. My heart doesn't believe the words that are spinning in my mind. I don't blame it. The heart seems to be an intelligent organ. It's the mind that often makes you believe what is not because you want it to be what it isn't.

My eyes soften considerably as I make my way towards the kitchen. Once again, Vance has coffee waiting for me. I see his hand proffered to me. I willingly remove the Tylenol from his palm. He must know I will have a headache soon. I hope he does not know why. That would be embarrassing. He doesn't need to know what an emotional wreck I truly am.

"Please sit, doll face." Vance pulls a chair out for me. I nod my head, accepting the seat. My coffee is moved to sit in front of me. I take a small sip to test the temperature. Of course it is perfect. Everything Vance touches is perfection.

"Talk?" I question while looking up above the rim of my to-go cup. My eyes finally meet this man's eyes. I can see the stress I am causing. It reflects back to me. I feel the guilt immediately.

"You're upset, love. We need to talk about that." Vance takes a seat beside me. He pulls my fingertips into his hand while he uses the other hand to draw soothing strokes against my skin. The touch is comforting, yet I feel ashamed.

"I'm not." I lie adamantly. Hopefully, he will not notice. One could only wish he could be less observant. The shake of his head tells me that I did a piss poor job of convincing him.

"You are. You will talk to me. Not because you have to, but because I know you need to. Please Karis, allow me to offer my ear. I have told you before, I want to know you. Every part of you is important to me. This includes the parts that you deem as unsightly. Not everyone sees it the way you do. Please let me be the judge." Vance smiles gently at me. I attempt to return it, knowing I am failing miserably.

Silence bounces between us leaving the air, that it touches, stagnant. As I gather my resolve, I try to decide which pieces of me I want to expose today. If I had it my way, none would be on display. The horribly distorted pieces of my soul should be tucked away for none to see. However, it is not often that someone comes in honesty to genuinely listen. It's not all the time that someone comes to help instead of storing away the information as ammunition for the next time they can target your weakness.

Vance has clearly proven that he is not my ex. Unfortunately, my mind knows things that it does not communicate between fear and rationality. I find myself, sitting before this stellar human being, feeling less than worthy to be in his presence. The battlefield of the mind is a corrupt place. It is a place that is filled with land mines, waiting to explode the moment you allow your concentration to slip. Ominous thoughts often persevere causing any semblance of joy to retreat behind walls that were silently built to protect.

My fingers fidget with the black plastic lid of the styrofoam cup. My nails repeatedly pluck against the hard material, filling the air with an annoying popping sound. My head listens to the clipping thump with a rueful snicker. Fitting that I should effortlessly attempt to lift the lid while also attempting not to spill the coffee. It's a fantastic metaphor for the very situation that I find myself in.

With a steady hand, I release the lid from between my offending fingers. I slide my fingers down the cup before relaxing my palms against the cool wood of my farm table. My eyes slowly slide towards my audience of one. Vance patiently waits for me to come to terms with his request.

"I feel guilty. I'm sorry. I got lost in your presence. I think it's best that we part now before I do any more damage." I can't meet his eyes as I push him away. My hands ache to hold on. My body yearns to be closer. My heart pushes back with resistance like a compressed chamber. I'm not ready for this man. His intensity pulls me in while simultaneously pushing me away. I can't afford the whiplash. Surely it will cripple me.

"Care to divulge what destruction you believe you are causing? Considering I am enamored by your very presence, I would be inclined to confusion." Vance smirks at me. He has all the confidence of a Cheshire Cat. The man couldn't breathe in a woman's vicinity without making her panties crawl down her thighs, effortlessly.

"I'm not ready. I'm not whole, well. I'm just going to hurt you. I know you do not feel that, yet. Believe me when I take responsibility for the fact that it will not end well. This will not end well. Please, save yourself." My words roll off my tongue on a choked gasp. His lips cover mine without provocation. I attempt to accept his kiss without a whimper. I fail.

"You will not be break me. I have already told you, I want to be around you. Please stop speaking so lowly of yourself Karis. It's not doing you any favors." Vance pulls me up without a pause. I land in his lap being swaddled closely in his embrace. Everything this man does is perfectly tuned to make me an irrational fool. If I am not careful, he will have me either bent over his knee or accepting his hand while he bends on his own knee.

"I am incapable of what you want. Why can't you see that? Your stubbornness will only end in one of us being reduced to tears. If I had to hedge my bet, you will be the one who hates me at the end of this all." My head turns away from Vance's penetrating glare. If his disapproval was a color, I could easily see it as an opaque red. He is not taking kindly to my illustration of how things will be.

"How about we play a little game called reality? You appear to need a large dose. Whatever the hell has been ingrained into that gorgeous soul of yours, forget it. It's blasphemy. I would venture to call it pure sin." His fingers firmly grip my chin. Turning my face with his hand, our eyes lock into each other's. I stare obediently at his silent demand to focus.

"Karis, you are more valuable than the bullshit that you have been groomed to think. You have been so deeply molded into a picture of what others needed, desired. You cannot even see yourself clearly. That is fine, for now. It is my job to give you back your pliability. I am not here to form you into what is best to suit my own needs. Instead, I want to help you find yourself and all that you secretly desire to be. We are given but one life. You are not meant to be exactly as others choose. Your only responsibility is to yourself. This is something that I am afraid has been stripped away from you. A choice seems to be so far away from you that you aren't even aware that you have one. You are a beautiful, talented, kind and attractive spirit. You should have been nurtured all these years. Hands that were meant to guide you have demanded a perfection that you could not possibly fit in to. You are perfect. Just the way you are, that is who you ought to be." Vance comes crashing with lips that seal upon my own. This time the resistance is nonexistent. I melt into his kiss like a flame bending to blend into the warm air. Hungrily, I accept his affirmations. My soul seeps from the broken cracks, reaching for this man who seems to see me as something a bit more than I actually am.

Our kiss is extensive. His tongue presses into my mouth with a purpose of licking away wounds he didn't help to create. The warm caress of his adoration reduces me to a molten liquid that easily fills in the fissures that have been continuously reopened. It's as if his very touch manipulates my heart into feeling hope, joy and peace.

Doubt falls backwards to take a seat to new feelings that I was unaware I wanted. The need to find myself becomes overwhelming. Vance silently encourages me to discover myself. If this is anything akin to love, I fear I will find myself in the deep end of the ocean. My only hope is that I will not be wading those waters alone.