by J. Daniels
Shit is unavoidable sometimes. Emergencies come up, that’s nothing new. There’s been more than one occasion in the past where circumstances have prevented me from getting somewhere I needed to be. And every single time, my wife is understanding of it.
Tessa knows all about the demands that come with being a cop and the shit I can’t avoid. She doesn’t get mad if I get held up somewhere, forcing me late getting to her. Even now, I know she won’t be angry at me for this, that’s not her. She’ll tolerate it and she shouldn’t have to.
I should fucking be there with her.
I pull off the highway, taking the next ramp at half the speed I’ve been going so I don’t flip my truck, and head in the direction of the hospital. I’m nearly at the entrance to turn in when my phone rings from the seat.
“Babe, I’m here,” I answer. “I’m turnin’ in now. Where do I go?” I pull into the outpatient parking lot and search for an open space.
“I’m walking out. You don’t need to go anywhere. I’m fine.” Tessa sounds distant, like there’s something else holding her attention right now. Like she’s speaking away from the phone and not to me. “I’m fine, Luke . . .” she repeats. Her voice, so quiet I can barely hear it, fades to nothing until she’s no longer in my ear.
My back flexes against the seat as worry, sharp and pulsing, spreads underneath my skin. I slow to a stop in the middle of the road and stare through the windshield.
“Tessa?”
Something’s wrong. I can tell. I can feel it.
The world around her responds to me. I can hear movement through the line and faint conversations until the only thing I can hear is the quick, trembling intake of her breath.
Red catches my eye.
I drop the phone onto the seat and floor it, peeling out of the row I’m in as Tessa steps through the double doors and walks outside.
Her head falls, gaze lowering as she stops just outside the outpatient entrance. She stares at the sidewalk.
Tessa doesn’t react to me when I park at the curb and call out her name as I round the truck. Or when I’m right in front of her, pulling the phone away from her ear and touching her, my hand on her cheek.
“Babe.” I shove her phone into my pocket and tilt her head up, forcing her to look at me. “What is it? What happened?”
She blinks, staring right through me until suddenly, I fill her vision. Her pupils dilate, recognizing mine as she draws in a breath. “I’m fine,” she says. Her voice is rough like she needs to clear it. “There’s nothing wrong. Nothing . . .”
She’s fine? Bullshit. Does she really think I’m buying that?
“Don’t lie to me. What happened?”
Tears begin to build in her eyes. They bead on her lashes as her bottom lip trembles.
I instantly feel sick.
I want to hold her, need to hold her, but then she’s laughing and grabbing onto my wrists, drawing my hands down and away from her face.
She’s smiling and crying and what the fuck?
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she repeats, cheeks lifted and wet with tears. “My tubes aren’t blocked, they look great. She said they look great, Luke. Just like everything else . . . I have nothing wrong with me. Isn’t that the best news you’ve ever heard?”
Her lips pinch together and pull down and then suddenly, there’s not even a hint of a smile on her face anymore.
I think about what she’s telling me. I wrap my head around it, letting this new information sink in.
There’s nothing wrong. Her tubes aren’t blocked. She won’t need surgery.
She won’t need surgery . . .
This is fucking great.
Tension pulls from my shoulders as I inhale the first breath in what feels like minutes.
I’m about to question why my wife isn’t as elated as I am right now, because she should be, when quiet, wracking sobs tear through her body. Her fingers around my wrists squeeze to the point of pain.
“Tessa . . .”
“I’m perfect and I can’t get pregnant, Luke,” she says, head lowering and shoulders hunching forward. “What the fuck?” she whispers.
“Why are you upset? Hey.” I grab her waist and bend lower so I can look at her.
“You don’t get it.”
“So, tell me, what don’t I get?”
“I needed this.” She stares into my eyes. “I needed something to be wrong with me . . . and there isn’t. There’s nothing to fix, Luke. We can’t get pregnant and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Awareness slams into me like a wrecking ball. I straighten up as my grip on her waist becomes severe.
Tessa was hoping for everything I wasn’t. Broken parts. An obvious problem we could sort out and move on from. And again, the reason for our struggle stays out of reach.
Where do we put our blame if there’s nowhere to fucking put it?
I become the tension I thought I let go of. It’s everywhere, filling me, straining my muscles and stealing my breath.
I hate this. My wife is desperate for answers I can’t give her.
“You see it now,” she says, nearly smiling again as tears stream down her face. Her eyes jump between mine. “You see how fucked we are . . .”
I shake my head because I can’t agree with that. I don’t think we’re fucked. But I do see it—her reasoning. I know what she means and how she could feel that way.
I draw her against me, my arms curling around her back and head falling forward. I press my mouth to her temple. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s not.” She snuggles against my chest, letting me hold her for the briefest moment, and then she’s tipping her head up and fisting my shirt. I can feel her frustration. She’s shaking now. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”
I grab her hand, leading her to my truck.
“My car . . .”
“No fuckin’ way are you driving right now. Get in.” I open the passenger door, drop my phone into the cup holder, and help Tessa up into the seat.
It’s a jump she can make on her own without difficulty and most of the time, she does it. But not now, I won’t let her.
“We’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” I grab the belt and bring it across her body.
She tries taking it from me. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can buckle myself.”
I refuse her brush-off, locking eyes with her. Our faces close. “Let me take care of you. I wasn’t here.”
Tessa drops her head against the seat, her hand leaving mine, giving up the fight. She quickly wipes at her face and tucks strands of red behind her ears. “I’m not mad at you,” she says softly. “I would never be mad at you. I know the job.”
“Fuck that.” I secure the belt. “You just went through something alone and that never should’ve happened. I should’ve been here. I should’ve taken off the whole day. Fuckin’ insisted on it. Fuck! Why didn’t I?”
“Hey.” Her warm hands cup my face, drawing me closer again.
I lean into the cab, breathing heavy. “Let me get us out of here. We can argue at home.”
“How do you know we’re about to argue?”
“It’s us, babe. And I’m not stupid. You’re thinkin’ shit I don’t agree with and we’re gonna talk it out, meaning we’re gonna argue. We’ll come to an agreement like we always do, but we’re gonna fight first. Always.”
Her head tilts to the side. “You’ll never convince me to be mad at you.”
“I ain’t talkin’ about that.”
She stares at me, eyes narrowing as the corner of her mouth lifts. “We’re fucked, and you know it. There’s nothing to argue.”
“We ain’t fucked, and we ain’t ever gonna be fucked.”
“You can’t win this, Luke.”
“That ring you’re wearin’ says I already won it.”
Her mouth goes slack. She looks down between us, shaking her head, then meets my eyes again. “Why is this happening to us?”
“I’m not doing this here
. We’re leavin’.” I lean out of the truck and brace my hand on the door, ready to close it.
“I don’t want to go home. Max isn’t there.” Tessa rolls her head to the side, eyes filling up again. Her chin wobbles. “Our family is shrinking, Luke.”
A weight presses down on my chest.
Fuck. That’s what she’s thinking?
“I love you. Hey.” I wait until she blinks up at me, drawing her gaze off my shirt. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Go home with me.”
“It’s so quiet there now . . . I miss watching him walk around and stuff. I miss hearing his nails on the floor. I know that’s stupid—”
“It’s not stupid. I miss him too.”
“Maybe we should look into getting another dog . . .”
“We can talk about it at home. We’ll talk about everything.”
I mean that. No more avoiding shit because it’s difficult. We’re getting through this. We will get through this.
Tessa wipes a tear from her cheek, then she draws her knees up and hugs them against her chest. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, looking at the dash. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
I trail behind Tessa inside the house and secure the door behind me.
“I want to take a shower,” she says, toeing off her sandals and kicking them next to the couch. “I have that hospital smell all over me. It’s gross.”
“You want me with you?”
She turns back and pauses, appearing unsure. “Could I have a few minutes first? I’m . . . uh, bleeding a little . . .”
The muscles in my shoulders jump. “Is that normal?”
“She said I could spot for a few days. It’s not a lot or anything.”
Blood doesn’t bother me, but Tessa wants some time to herself right now. And even though I want to take care of her, I can give her a few minutes.
I’d give her anything.
“You want a drink?” I tip my chin at the kitchen behind her as I move closer. “I’m gonna grab a beer.”
She gives me a weak smile. “I could use a beer. Thanks.”
Holding the back of her neck, I press my lips to the side of her head. “I’ll bring it up.”
Tessa leans into me, squeezing my wrist, then she steps away and heads up the stairs.
I rub at my face as I enter the kitchen.
I’m on edge, and only part of that has to do with the talk we’re about to have. I can’t get the image of Tessa crying out of my head.
She doesn’t get upset a lot. She’s quick to piss off, but she’s not emotional. She never has been. Even though lately, for the past year since we’ve been trying to get pregnant, she’s cried more than I’ve seen her do in the four years I’ve known her. And when I do see it happen, it sticks with me long after her tears are gone. I can’t shake it.
Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t want to ever get used to my wife crying. This should fuck me up.
The shower turns on above me. Water rushes through the pipes in the walls, making them creak.
I grab two bottles out of the fridge and toss the caps, then I lean against the counter and drain most of my beer, giving Tessa the time she asked for before I head upstairs.
She calls out for me just as I’m entering the bedroom.
“I’m here,” I say, stepping inside the bathroom. I set the bottles on the counter and start to undress. When the curtain slides open behind me, I lift my gaze in the fogging mirror and watch Tessa peer at me through the opening.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods. Water drips down her face. “Are you?”
“I am if you are.”
She gives me a weak smile.
I strip off my clothes and boots, leaving a pile on the floor, and walk over to the shower. When Tessa moves back, I draw the curtain open farther and step inside, joining her.
The scent of her body wash fills the air. It’s floral and sweet.
“I’m done. Do you want the water?” She turns her shoulders away, wetting her front.
I’m in here for her. I don’t really need a shower. I took one this morning and I haven’t worked out yet today, but when Tessa grabs my waist and slides around me, I let her lead and switch places with her.
Under the spray, I tilt my head up and close my eyes as warm hands keep hold of my hips, then I look down and brace my hands on the wall, letting the water run over my shoulders and back.
“Are you hard yet?” Her slippery grip feels around to my abs, the brush of her fingers moving lower.
I grab her wrists before she can wrap around me. “What are you doing?” I ask, turning around.
She stares at my erection. “I want to have shower sex. Obviously . . .”
“You were upset. We should talk about it.”
“I’m not upset right now, am I?” Tessa lifts her gaze and attempts to wiggle her hands free, and I know she’s grabbing my dick the second I let her go, so I don’t. “Let’s fuck. Come on,” she urges.
“Aren’t you sore?” I realize then that I haven’t asked if she was in pain during this procedure today. I should’ve asked about this already. “Did it hurt you? When they were . . . doing whatever they did? That hurt, right?”
“I cramped a little.” Her shoulders jerk. “I was uncomfortable, but I’m not anymore. I’m fine. Let go of me so I can touch you.” She pulls her arms down sharply, her wet skin slipping through my fingers. And then she’s stroking my dick with both hands. “Mm. You want it . . .”
“Tessa,” I groan. Fuck. Not now. I grab her face and drop my forehead against hers. “I don’t wanna fuck.”
“Liar.”
“Stop. I’m serious.” I grip her wrists again and pull her off me.
Hurt washes over her face, pinching her brows together and drawing her lips down. Her cheeks burn with rejection. “Fine. Whatever.” She breaks my hold again and turns away, reaching for the curtain.
I grab her before she can step out of the shower. One hand around her waist and the other turning her head so she’ll look at me.
“What the fuck?” I grit out through clenched teeth. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me! If it hurt, I would tell you to stop. I just want to fuck right now, Luke. Okay? And so do you. You’re still rock hard. I can feel it.” She lifts her leg, rubbing her thigh against my dick. “See?”
“Two seconds ago, you were jackin’ me off. No shit, I’m hard. Even if you weren’t touchin’ me, I’d be hard. You’re naked.”
“So, fuck me. I need it.”
“You need it?” I echo, bending lower until our faces are close.
Tessa quickly nods her head. Drops of water run down her cheeks. “Yeah. I need it.” Her voice cracks. “I’m good at this . . . you know I am. I can do it better than anyone.” Another drop slips past her lashes, and I realize, studying her more closely now and hearing the break in her breath, that’s not water from the spray on her cheeks. It’s tears.
I blink, jerking back a little. “Babe.”
“Please.” She rolls up onto her toes and begs against my lips. “Please, Luke. I’m great at this, right?”
“Fuck, yeah.” I kiss all over her mouth.
“I’ll stop you if it hurts, I promise.”
This is fucked up, I know it is. But something tells me it’ll break Tessa if we don’t do this right now. She’s close to falling apart, I can feel it. And how the fuck can I let that happen if there’s something I can do to stop it?
I palm her ass and lift her, pressing Tessa’s soft body against the shower wall. Her legs circle my waist. My hand between us lines me up, and I rub her clit as I slide in the first inch.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” she gasps, cupping my face. Kissing me. “Tell me it feels good.”
I move inside her slowly. “You feel so good . . . fuck, your pussy is tight.”
“Tell me you love this . . .”
“I love
this.” I bite her jaw and press my open mouth to her cheek. “Love fucking you. I always want it. You’re so wet . . . fuckin’ hot, babe. You get me hard so fuckin’ fast.” Gripping her thighs, I spread her open and thrust my hips, jerking her against the wall. “Good?”
“Good.” Her eyes close, head dropping back.
The wet slap of our bodies fills the air and echoes off the walls.
“God, Luke, I want to make you come.”
“Close,” I grunt. “I always am . . . the second I feel you, I wanna blow.”
“Do it. Come inside me.”
“Come on my dick.”
“I will.” Her legs shake around me as her nails cut into my neck. “I will, I’m so close . . .”
Tessa slides her hand between us and plays with her clit while I pump into her, and I can’t watch her. Her pussy and the way she rubs this out, I can’t look. I keep my eyes on her face, fighting my own release until she’s moaning and squeezing my dick so hard, I gasp in a breath.
“Oh, my God, Luke . . .”
“Coming,” I groan, grabbing her face and taking her mouth. I empty inside her. “God . . . fuck, Tessa. So good.”
She kisses me hard, one last time, and then she buries her face in my neck and clings to me.
“I love you.” I cup the back of her head.
She whimpers in response. And then again, her arms around me growing tighter. She starts to shiver like she’s cold.
I lean back and watch her cry.
“Fuck, did I hurt you?” I ask, hand sliding to her cheek. I pull out slowly, trapping my dick between us. “I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry . . .”
Tessa shakes her head. “It doesn’t hurt. You didn’t hurt me.”
I wipe her tears away with my thumb, then I lower Tessa to her feet. “Let’s get out of the shower.” I push the curtain open after turning the water off and step out, grabbing a towel and handing it back to her. I secure another around my waist.
“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten back together?” she asks. “How many kids you’d have by now?”
I look back at her. “What?”
“I mean, if you had ended up with someone else—”
“I’m not doin’ this.” I grab my beer and drain it on my way out of the bathroom.
