Never Stop

27. Via

Chapter twenty-seven

Via

Three months later- February

I sn't it funny how life works? The way it can effortlessly take you on different courses that entirely alter your reality, all at the hands of your decisions? It's sometimes so seamless that you don't even notice the changes happening while they are.

After my recent therapy visits with Dr. Carr, I can't help but reflect on the absolute whirlwind of the past five or so months. She's helping me realize how different my life is—how different I am —all because I decided to let go of my fears and follow my heart. I can't remember a time in my life when I've genuinely ever been any happier than I am now.

Part of me wants to hold anger against myself, resentment even. I want to dwell and beat myself up that this could have been my life all along had I made different decisions and handled things differently all those years ago. Then again, we never truly know. Maybe our time apart and reconnection was precisely how our story was supposed to unfold.

I'm beginning to feel more and more like my true self each day. I can feel my armor, which I wore to shield myself from others or others from me, being ripped away. I know I'm reinventing myself into the woman I've always been meant to be— but he helps me. I am the woman I want to be when I'm with Ander. It gives me the courage to do everything my heart feels is right: the hard things, the scary things, the adventurous things, the stupid and silly things. The abyss of numbness I previously called my normal has faded, and I'm finally finding comfort in being me again. I feel things again, and although that's fucking terrifying, it's also been beautiful.

After leaving Ander all those years ago, I never once thought this would be my current reality. I'm so happy I was wrong, and I am proud of myself .

Tonight's shift at work has been quiet. I've made all of my patient rounds and am all caught up on my paperwork, so now I'm just killing time until we clock off in an hour. It's so easy to get lost in thought during downtime here. I feel a tap on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts and away from my doodles.

Dessa, with the sweetest smile on her face .

I return her smile as I look up at her, "Yessss?" I sing-song.

"We. . . uhm. Can you come to the breakroom?" She stands there with a big smile plastered to her face, but damn, she looks puzzled.

What the fuck .

"Is this what I think it is? Because I told all of you not to!" My tone is firm, but I can't stop the smile pulling at my lips, threatening to break free from my grasp on it.

"Just come see, damn it!" She insists, as she rolls her eyes, spins on her heels, and sprints toward the breakroom.

She's literally fucking running, and now, I'm laughing my ass off.

I stand up, sigh, and walk towards the break room. Knowing they did something I didn't want them to do, I'm a little annoyed but also excited.

"SURPRISE!" They all scream in unison, scaring the shit out of me as I push through the double doors of our quiet, tiny breakroom to find all of my favorite co-workers, even the ones that were off tonight, all squeezed in shoulder to shoulder, standing crowded around the small table in the center. Even Izzy is here!

On the table is a cake that has a bunch of tiny little phrases on it, which read, "Bye bitch", "We never liked you anyways," "We hope you fail," "Good luck finding better," "Later, Traitor," "Way to put your needs ahead of the team." The final and smallest one reads, "JK, we will miss you so much!"

I'm in tears from laughing so hard as I read the cake.

"Aww, you guys! I don't know whose ass to kick first!" I joke.

"Don't you fucking love it?" Izzy asks from the side of me, pointing to the cake; then she does a dramatic hair flip, knowing she totally nailed it.

"It's the best!" I choke out through laughter and tears. I wipe at my tears as I look around the room at all the people I've worked side by side with for all these years—people who have become huge parts of my life. I will truly miss them all so much.

"You can just about guess which phrases were Izzy's idea," Jade speaks up with a laugh from the back of the room.

Izzy rolls her eyes as she says, "I'm a genius, and you all know it," the laughter in the room grows even louder.

"Seriously, Via, it isn't too late to change your mind. . ." Janet says as she bats her eyelashes at me, almost pleading.

I chuckle as another tear falls, "I really will miss you guys."

Deciding to leave the facility and quit the career I worked so hard for has been one of the most difficult decisions ever, and I'm scared. Actually, I'm terrified. I can't help but think of all the what-ifs. I can't help but wonder if this decision will lead me down the path I hope it will or if I'll fail miserably, but I'll never know unless I try.

I am so fucking sick of letting fear cripple me into not trying. I've always lived in fear and made fear-based decisions. I refuse to do that anymore. This is my life . It's about time that it starts to feel like it. It's about time I start creating it into what I've always wanted it to be.

I start making my way around the breakroom, giving hugs to everyone and thanking them for not only showing up for me for this but always.

I make it about halfway through the room of people, and I'm currently listening to Amber, our secretary, ask me "one last nurse question ." She'd always come to me at the most random times and spurt off with a question that she claimed she didn't feel comfortable asking anyone else, yet she'd speak so loud that everyone in the facility could hear. This time is no different, and it's wonderful.

"But, like, vaginal wetness is normal?"

"Amber!" Cassie spits out with a laugh.

"What? It's a valid question! The guy I'm sleeping with said it's not normal to be this wet, and I told him it's not my fault he's only banged dry bitches."

"Sweet Jesus, bless it!" Layla says as she laughs and pulls me away.

I look back to Amber, still being pulled away, holding one hand around the edge of my mouth so that she can hear me. "You being wetter than a river should make him quiver!" I whisper-shout through my laughter.

I get across the room, and I'm drowned in hugs and sweet small talk when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around to find Clark with his shoulders dropped. He's looking at the ground as he shifts on his feet nervously. He won't meet my gaze.

"Hey. . . Clark."

"Hey Via, you think we can talk for a minute?" Clark's voice is low, and the sadness radiating from him doesn't match the upbeat setting in this claustrophobicly stuffed break room. I hesitate for a minute before responding. The last conversation I had with Clark wasn't necessarily comfortable, in the least bit. If I'm being honest, he makes me pretty uncomfortable in general.

"Um, yeah, sure."

He jerks his chin slightly towards the hall as he turns and walks towards the door. I follow behind him and instantly feel like this is a bad idea. I try to signal over to Izzy or Dessa to tell them I'm stepping out really fast, hoping one of them will save me, but my attempts go unnoticed.

We make it out into the hallway, and Clark is still walking further down, to where the hallway turns off and becomes a dead-end split by the maintenance closet. I'm hesitant, but I follow. I'm sure he's just going over there so we can hear each other better and escape the sounds pouring out of the breakroom.

He turns, leans against the wall, and props up a foot. His arms are by his side, his hands are tapping nervously in his pockets, his shoulders are still slumped forward, and his head is hung. I decide to stand against the wall opposite him, as the space between us seems appropriate. What the fuck is going on right now?

"What's up, Clark?" I make sure to keep my voice kind but also firm.

His head slowly lifts, and his gaze meets mine. He removes his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms over his chest. He is a very handsome man, and he knows it. He thinks this means every woman wants him, which is highly unattractive in anyone if you ask me. It's fine to be confident; I find confidence very sexy and attractive. The way Ander is confident turns me on, but Clark, he's arrogant. Even in the way he holds himself. However, this is weird for Clark, and he's hard to read now.

"Are you really. . . giving up your dream career? For a man? I didn't take you for that kind of girl." His tone isn't harsh; it's laced with sadness, but even so. . . . What. What the fuck ? Who the hell is this guy to question me, much less assume my dreams, when he barely knows me other than at work?

Fuck that.

"Excuse me?" I deadpan, still feeling dumbfounded by his words.

"I'm just saying, Via. We are all thinking about it. You're great at this job. You love it here, and it's obvious. All of a sudden, you start dating some random guy, and now you're throwing everything away."

The balls on this ass hat are almost impressive—the actual nerve .

"Clark, let's not stand here and pretend that you know anything about me other than wanting to get a free tour of the inside of my vagina. So, if you'll excuse me," I push off the wall and stand to turn away as I roll my eyes at the audacity of this fucker.

I'm stopped short. He rushes up to me, grabbing my arm, his grip is tight, and it almost hurts, but I'm too pissed even to register the feeling.

"If you'd given me a chance and gotten to know me, you would see that I didn't want just sex with you. I fell for you, Via. Why would you never give me a chance?" His grip around my arm is growing tighter, but his tone doesn't match his body language. His tone is desperate, as if he's begging me to see him, and I do, loud and clear. I am not interested.

"Clark, let go of me." I pull to tug my arm, but he grips tighter, grabbing my other arm as well and facing me to him. Our faces are so close that they're nearly touching, and then, they are. He glides his nose along my cheek as I thrash about, trying to free myself from his grip.

"All I asked for was a chance. Let me show you—" The sound of shattering glass cuts him off. My eyes are screwed shut, and I begin counting in my head to attempt to take control of the anxiety that's rushing through my bones, taking over all of my senses.

I stop fighting against Clark and begin to shut down. Just then, I hear a familiar voice shout further down the hall.

"I'll give you two seconds to back the fuck away from her."

Ander

My eyes shoot open to see Ander standing there. He looks as handsome as ever in dark jeans, converse, and a navy-fitted t-shirt, and his beautiful tattoos that cover his arms are on full display. His chest is pounding; his fists are clenched by his side. A broken vase of flowers is lying at his feet. The look on his face is protective and primal, and if I were Clark, I'd be scared shitless right now.

Clark's grasp on my arms loosens, but he doesn't release me. I'm still pressed against the wall at the hands of Clarks as Ander starts walking toward us, quickening his pace.

"This! This is who you choose?" Clark seethes in my ear in a low growl as he releases me.

Damn right, it is.

As Ander approaches us, he stops in front of Clark, gets right in his face, but doesn't touch him. The rage is searing off of him. If this weren't such a screwed-up situation, my sick-ass mind would relish in how downright sexy he is like this. Clark just crossed one too many lines, and I'm fuming.

Ander, whose hands are still balled into fists at his sides, steps closer to Clark, causing Clark to take steps backward to stay upright.

"Chill man, we were just… just tal-talking," Clark manages to stammer. Ander doesn't say a word.

He steps forward, walking Clark backward until he lands flat against the wall. As soon as Clark's back meets the wall, Ander slams his large hand onto the wall right next to Clark's head and points at me with the opposite one.

"Mine!" he says, not necessarily a shout but not quiet either. His finger is still pointed at me.

"Nothing or no one hurts or threatens what's mine. No real man has to bully a woman into giving him a chance. You've made your stance clear, just as clear as she's made hers. Now take the fucking hint and back down. Don't you even think about touching her again, or it will be the last fucking thing that you do!" He removes his hand and slams it into the wall again, causing a loud thud to echo through the hallway.

"And trust me when I say this is the only warning I'll give. You're lucky I don't bash your fucking face in here and now." Ander's voice is low, and his words come out slowly.

Clark huffs, rolls his eyes in defeat, and nods.

Coward.

He has the balls to attempt to manhandle a woman but bitches out when approached by a real man. He's a real fucking winner.

Ander doesn't even wait for his response; as soon as the words leave his mouth and he removes his hand from the wall again, he quickly walks over to me, folding over me, and wraps me into his arms. As I settle into his warm embrace, I see Clark hurrying off down the hall like the little bitch that he is.

"Oh, and Clark?" I shout out after him. He stops midstep, surprising me, and looks back toward me.

"Stop with the notes and gifts. Stop following me. Stop all of it. I never wanted any of it."

"I've never written you any notes or given you any gifts," he says with a confused look on his face before spinning around and walking out of our line of view.

Liar.

"Baby, are you okay?" Ander asks as he pulls me back to assess me for damages. He runs a hand over my cheek, looks me over, and then courses it through my hair. The other hand slings around my back and pulls me closer to him before kissing my forehead.

"I'm good, just pissed. What a fucking prick!"

Ander remains silent for a moment, eyes locked with mine. I can feel his anger radiating off of him like a burning inferno. The beast, his temper that he keeps suppressed inside, is surfacing, and he's holding himself back the best he can.

"You were supposed to report him. . . You promised me you would. I trusted you to do that. You told me you did." His words sting because I know he's right. I promised him, and in return, he promised not to intervene. I lied to him.

My head falls, and guilt consumes me.

Ander places his hand under my chin, angling my head towards his, and our eyes connect.

"I'm sorry. I was scared of making it more than it needed to be. I was hoping it would just stop."

He nods and plants another kiss on my forehead. We are so close that I can feel his heart pounding against his chest, the beat of it matching my own.

"We will report it all to the police once we leave here. Either that, or we do it my way, and I go after him right now?" He arches a challenging brow at me, and I know exactly what he means.

"What the hell happened?" Dessa calls out, in a whisper shout, from down the hall. Ander and I release one another, and our eyes dart to her simultaneously. She is standing over the broken vase of flowers that lies down the hall.

"You got me flowers?" I whisper to Ander with an attempt at a shaky grin, trying to forget the shit show that just took place a few seconds prior. He nods as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. He knows I'm trying to deflect, and he can sense that I don't want to talk about it or tell Dessa what happened. So he doesn't push me.

"It slipped out of my hands. I'll clean it up." Ander deadpans before I can come up with an excuse for the mess.

Des smirks, "It's so sweet that you showed up and you got her flowers. . . Even though you did ruin that pretty pink vase. Geeze Ander!"

Ander lets out a forced chuckle before wrapping his arm around my side, bringing me into him in a slight side hug, and he looks down at me while I look up at him.

"It's okay; I'll make damn sure to make it up to her," he says as a sly grin pulls at one corner of his lips.

"Oh, is that so?" I ask Ander as I peer up at him, to which he replies with just a wink, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop. Dessa continues to retreat down the hall until she's out of view.

I peer up at him, flashing him a look. Before I can protest, Ander takes my ID badge and swipes it in front of the electronic lock, granting us access to the maintenance closet.

"What are you—"

"Get in and get naked, baby. I can't wait. I need you. Now."

This man is insatiable. I love it .

"Here? Everyone is in the breakroom waiting—"

"They can wait." He walks me backward into the closet as his mouth collides with mine. Needy for more, I part my mouth for him. An invitation for him to deepen the kiss. Which he does . His tongue finds mine, and my heart begins to pick up its pace. This man makes me ravenous.

He locks the door behind him and makes quick work of stripping me from my scrubs, only breaking our kiss when necessary. When I'm left in just my bra and panties, he backs away and looks me over—letting his eyes trace up and down my body. He hums in approval.

"It killed me to see another man's hands on you. No one touches you except for me." He growls out, his voice low and husky.

"I don't want any—" He holds a finger over my mouth, silencing me.

"Are you mine?" He removes his finger and trails it down my neck, barely touching me, using just his fingertip. The tickle of the sensation sets my body ablaze.

"Yes. All yours." My voice is breathy and hoarse as my chest heaves with desire.

Ander walks around me toward the lone desk against the back wall. In one swift motion, he passes his arms across the top of the desk, swiping all its contents to the floor.

In no time, he's back. Towering over me from behind as his hands trail up my body, starting at my hips. He reaches my breasts and slides his hands under my bra. Ander pinches my nipples and flicks them. He lets out a deep growl, which pulls a soft moan from me.

"Then take off those panties, spread those legs like a good girl, and let me show you how well I take care of what's mine," He whispers into my ear with a deep groan.

Before I can react or respond, his arms wrap around my waist. He lifts me and carries me over to the desk as he lays me out across the top of it.

"Take them off."

"Mmm," I moan out. I follow directions, leaning up and pulling my panties down, then toss them aside.

Laying back down on the edge of the desk, I look at Ander. His eyes are locked in on me, looking at every part of me with admiration, lust, love, and need in his eyes.

Trailing a hand down my body until it meets my slit, spreading it open for him to give him a better view.

"All yours, Ander. My heart. My body. My love. Every part of me is all for you. So, come get what's yours."

"Fuckkk, baby." His eyes screwed shut, but only briefly, before they're back open and hot on me.

"Stick your finger in that tight little cunt. Let me see how wet you are."

I do as requested, sliding one finger inside of my opening. Damn , I'm drenched already. I take it a step further and play with myself, just a little, as I begin to pump it in and out of me.

My eyes stay locked on his. He watches me intently.

"So wet, Ander."

"Show me."

I remove my finger and hold it up to him. He walks up to me, eyes dark with need, as he locks eyes with me and licks my arousal from my finger.

"Spread those legs, baby. Let me worship you just like you deserve."

He grabs my legs, pulling me to the very edge of the desk as he sinks to his knees and buries his face at my center.

Oh, fuck .