by J. L. Perry
My heart is thundering in my chest as I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the bathroom. Carefully placing her down next to the bowl, I lift the lid. She leans over, and when she starts dry-retching, I grab her hair, holding it out of the way.
After a few attempts, she gives up, standing to full height. “I’m feeling a bit better now, thanks.”
“The fuck you are, you just fainted. Come, get dressed, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m okay, Ashton.”
“We’re going to the hospital, and that’s final!”
She rolls her eyes, so I lightly smack her ass. I’m not letting this go. You don’t faint for no reason.
“Sit,” I demand when we reach the bed.
I go back into the bathroom and grab a cloth, rinsing it under the cold water. My concern amplifies when I kneel in front of her, noticing how pale and clammy she is.
After wiping over her face, I help her get dressed.
Donning my own clothes, we head to the car.
“I’m not an invalid,” she gripes. “I can walk without your assistance.”
I chuckle at her sassiness. “I’m not taking a chance on you fainting again. You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head.”
Ami South Bay Hospital at Redondo Beach is a ten-minute drive from my place. After seeing the triage nurse in emergency, we take a seat and wait for the doctor to call us in.
It’s almost a two-hour wait.
“All your vitals are good,” he says. “Have you ever fainted before?”
“Once, when I was younger, I had an eating disorder and passed out because my blood pressure was low.”
“I see. And when was the last time you ate?”
“Last night,” she replies.
“I might take a blood and urine sample as a precaution.”
She seems completely fine now, but that does nothing to ease my concern.
An hour later, the doctor re-enters the room, taking a seat. “Did you know you’re pregnant?”
“Pregnant,” she gasps.
Wait, what?
“Yes, feeling dizzy or fainting is common during pregnancy, especially in the first trimester,” he says. “Dizziness or loss of consciousness are often caused by a drop in blood pressure from the hormones released to relax the body’s blood vessels.”
The doctor’s words barely register.
My mind is racing a hundred miles an hour.
She’s pregnant.
She’s fucking pregnant.
How could this happen?
The shower.
The night I broke rule number five.
Fuck!
I can’t even bring myself to look at her. “I need some air,” is all I say as I stand and head toward the door.
My need to escape is strong.
To think.
To run—is too great.
So, I do just that. I hightail it out of there.
I’m an asshole.
It’s the wrong thing to do, I know that. Emma needs my support now more than ever, but I’m like a man possessed. My feet kept moving faster and faster. I’ve been desperately trying to leave my past behind, but it’s no use. I’m bound to the memories.
The walls around me are closing in, and I’m struggling to get air into my lungs.
I pull out my phone.
Ashton: Can you do me a favor? Can you come to Ami South Bay Hospital and pick up Emma?
Grayson: Is everything okay?
Ashton: I have to leave, but she’s going to need a ride home.
Grayson: What the fuck man!
Ashton: I’ll explain later. Can you come and get her or not?
Grayson: On my way.
Thirty minutes later, I pull up at the cemetery, not even remembering the drive here. It’s been over six years since I’ve come. I haven’t been back since the funeral. I take a few deep breaths as I exit the car and cross the perfectly manicured lawn. Just being here has me on the verge of a panic attack.
My heart constricts as I kneel in front of the headstone. It’s the first time I’ve seen it. I swallow hard as I read over the name.
Anastasia Josphine Austin
2nd February 1992 - 7th May 2013
Anastasia was only twenty-one when she took her own life. And although she was a tortured soul, she was way too young to die.
Tears rise to my eyes when my gaze moves further down, but I will them back down. I don’t know why I’m so afraid to let it out. Maybe because I’m scared I won’t be able to stop once I do.
This is why I came here. Not to visit her but to see him. The guilt hits me full force as I run my fingers over the script.
Baby Barclay
If my love alone could’ve saved you,
you would have lived forever.
My son.
I was too distraught at the time to even give him a name. I hate her for what she did and how selfish she was. Anastasia may not have wanted to live anymore, but she didn’t give my son a choice.
He deserved the right to take his first breath.
He deserved a chance at life.
I settle back in the grass, staring at the blue sky above. All the what-ifs filter through my mind. From the moment I found out Anastasia was carrying my child, his safety and wellbeing were my greatest concern. Life, with her as his mother, would never have been easy. But that still doesn’t give me peace.
He would’ve always had me. I would’ve protected him. Cared for him. Loved him.
I’m not sure how long I lay there lost in thought, shrouded in my own grief, but I eventually stand, dusting the grass from my clothes. I need to go and find Emma. I have to concentrate on the here and now. I need to make this right.
I won’t be coming back. I can’t. If I want to move forward, then I have to let the past go once and for all. The only way to heal the wound is to stop touching it.
The heavy weight that’s settled on my chest intensifies.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” I whisper before I turn and walk away.
He’ll forever remain in my heart.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Carla screams the moment she opens Emma’s door and sees me standing there.
Grayson appears behind her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her waist at the exact moment she lunges for me.
“Let me go,” she screams, her arms and legs flailing around in the air like a woman possessed.
“Settle down, Rambo,” he says, chuckling.
“Your ass is mine, Barclay. Do you hear me?”
“Not on my watch,” Grayson replies. He gives me a sympathetic look. Emma must’ve told him about the baby, so I know he understands.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here,” Carla scoffs.
“I’m here to see Emma,” I say, shoving my hands in my pocket. My gaze moves to the floor. “I need to talk to her.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you abandoned her at the damn hospital.”
I blow out a long breath. “I know… I just needed some time to digest—”
“Ashton,” Emma says, appearing in the doorway. I can tell by her red eyes she’s been crying. I rub the heel of my palm across my chest.
“Let’s go, Carla,” Grayson says.
“I’m not leaving her alone with him.”
“Have it your way,” Grayson retorts, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
“Put me down,” Carla screams as they pass me.
“Em, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ran out like I did. It’s just… will you give me a chance to explain?”
There’s conflict brimming in her tormented eyes, I’ve let her down again. I swore I’d be there for her when she needed me, and I wasn’t.
“There’s s-something I didn’t tell you about Anastasia,” I say, my voice cracking. “The night she killed herself, she was four months pregnant with our son.”
“Ashton.” My name comes out more like a gasp. It’s not until her finge
rs skim across my cheek that I even realize I’m crying. She immediately steps forward, engulfing me in her arms.
“Fuck,” I mutter into her hair as the tears stream from my eyes. “Dammit.”
Emma’s grip on me tightens. “Let it out,” she says, rubbing her hand down my back. “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”
I grit my teeth hoping to trap it, but there’s no taming the beast that’s been festering inside me for the past six years. The grief rips through me. It consumes me, but I let it all out. I let everything go.
My future is Emma.
She’s the one.
My soulmate.
My fucking air.
And the only woman on this earth I want to start a family with.
Grabbing my hand, she leads me into her bedroom. “Sit,” she says, pointing to the bed. I do as she asks. I’ll do anything to gain her forgiveness. She stands before me. “Do you want this baby, Ashton?”
My eyes move up to meet hers. The uncertainty on her face tears me up inside.
“More than anything.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “Our situation is far from ideal, and the timing isn’t perfect, but after you left, I had plenty of time to think. I love you, Ashton… I want this, I want you.”
My arms encircle her waist, pulling her closer so I can place a kiss on her stomach. “I once told you I didn’t know if I was capable of love. I was wrong, Em, because I love you so deeply, I feel like I’m fucking drowning.”
“I love you, too,” she says, straddling my lap and peppering tiny kisses all over my face. “So much.”
“I was worried I was going to lose you again.” I hold her tightly as pure relief rushes through me.
“Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”
“There won’t be a next time, I promise. You’re it for me, sweet-thing. You and this baby are all I want. All I’ll ever need. You’re moving in with me, by the way.”
“No, I’m not.”
“This isn’t up for negotiation, Emma.”
“So bossy.”
“Get used to it, you’re stuck with me.”
I stand, bringing her with me.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks as we walk toward the front door.
“Home.”
“I’ve always believed people cross our paths for a reason, some stay because they’re meant to be there, others just pass through to teach us lessons. Good or bad, they help mold us into the people we are… the people we’re destined to be,” Emma says as her fingers skim over my cheek. “That day I ran into you—”
“Best fucking day of my life,” I say, interrupting her.
“I didn’t think so at the time, but I’d have to agree with you now.”
I brush my lips against hers as I roll her onto her back and shift on top of her, settled between her legs.
“It was fate,” she says.
“You think so?”
“You can’t change what’s written in your cards… you can’t alter what’s meant to be.” Her eyes flutter closed, and she whimpers when I glide my cock through her slick heat.
Best fucking sound ever.
“Plus, I’m irresistible,” I add, rolling my hips slightly forward, pushing the head of my cock inside her. “You can’t refute that.”
“You’re so full of yourself,” she says.
Groaning, I thrust in until I’m balls deep in her heaven. “Actually, I believe it’s you who’s full of me.”
“Cute, Barclay, very cute.”
The last few months with her have made me realize life isn’t as complicated as we make it. Sometimes, even when you’re not looking for love, it finds you anyway. And I’m thankful it found me. I truly believe that everything we went through was preparing us for what lay ahead. Our pasts may have initially stood in our way, but I also believe they helped us, forcing us to appreciate the good when we found it, to cherish it, and to hold on tight. She’s more than I deserve, but I’m never letting her go.
“I’m never letting you go,” I say, reiterating those words out loud, cementing them. “You’re my redemption, my second chance at life. My absolute everything, Em. We’re getting married, by the way.”
Her eyes widen, as I increase the pace. Christ, she feels so good. “Do I have a say in it?”
“Nope.”
The smile she gives me steals all the air from my lungs—it’s a silent yes.
She’s the future Mrs. Barclay. My future wife.
I can’t fucking wait.
Epilogue
EMMA
THREE YEARS LATER…
“It’s going to be okay,” I say to Carla, wrapping her in my arms. She’s been pacing back and forth for the past ten minutes. The closer the ceremony gets, the more agitated she’s become. “You’re strong, you’re kick-ass. Never forget that.”
It’s been two years since she’s had to face Grayson, the last time was at my daughter’s christening. Since then, she’s been avoiding him like the plague. What happened between them is anyone’s guess. She refuses to talk about it. And believe me, I’ve asked numerous times. Grayson was beyond crushed when she broke it off.
Absolutely heartbroken.
To this day, I don’t think he’s gotten over her, and by the way she’s reacting now, I’d say it’s the same for her. In my heart, I know her decision had more to do with her past than it did him. These two were great together. It’s hard to believe that Ashton and I were the ones who made it over the line, considering how tumultuous our relationship was in the beginning.
“I know being here today is hard for you, but I couldn’t get married without my best friend by my side.”
“I wouldn’t miss your wedding day for anything, Em.”
“You should try and talk to him later. It may give you both some closure.”
I see the tears glistening her eyes before she turns her face away. That concerns me. She’s as tough as nails, she never cries. “I can’t.”
I’m not going to push it. I’d never pressure her. “I love you,” I say, kissing her cheek.
A small smile tugs at her lips as she looks back at me. “I love you, too, Em.”
When there’s a knock on the door, I release her. “Are you ready?” my dad asks, stepping into the room. “It’s time. The cars have arrived.”
“Yes,” I reply. This day has been a long time coming.
Reaching out, I give Carla’s hand one last squeeze before I hook my arm through my father’s. My dad holds out his other elbow for her, and tears rise to her eyes once more. Her family may suck, but I’m more than willing to share mine with her.
The three of us walk down the long corridor toward the front door. The church where we’ll say our nuptials is in Rancho Palos Verdes, so Valentina insisted we get ready here. My father, Charlotte, Duchess, and I spent the night. Ashton and Grayson stayed at our home in Hermosa. Carla arrived early this morning because she still doesn’t do sleepovers.
The reception will be held here at the Barclay’s estate. A huge white marquee was erected in the backyard overlooking the ocean, and fairy lights have been strung everywhere. I got my first glimpse of the yard last night once the sun went down. It was breathtaking. A sea of fresh flowers arrived this morning. Ashton’s parents spared no expense on today.
Tomorrow morning, Ashton and I are flying to Paris for our honeymoon. Since we’re leaving our daughter here with her grandmother, we’re only staying a week. Seven days without her seems like an eternity.
We descend the front steps where Ashton’s parents are waiting. Charlotte is chasing Duchess around the three white Rolls Royces parked in the circular driveway, under their watchful eye. She looks so sweet in her white flower girl dress. The bodice is lace, and the skirt is very similar to mine.
Valentina had one of her designer friends make our one-of-a-kind dresses. I’m so in love with mine. It’s everything I imaged and more. The elegant sweetheart gown hugs my torso perfectly, thousands of hand-sewn crystals adorn th
e bodice, making it shimmer in the sunlight. The A-line skirt is a splendorous display of tulle and chic organza layered swirls.
“Momma,” Charlotte calls, running toward us.
My father’s hand covers mine. “You look so beautiful, pumpkin. I only wish your mother could be here to see her only daughter get married. She’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She’s in my heart. She’ll always be in my heart.
“And me, Pa? I bootiful.”
My father’s eyes shine with love as he looks down at his granddaughter. This little girl has brought so much happiness into all our lives. We named her Charlotte after my mother, Charlie for short, and she’s the apple of Ashton’s eye. He worships the ground she walks on.
“Exceptionally beautiful, even prettier than your momma, Charlie-bear,” he says, looking at me and winking.
“I bootiful,” she says, spinning around in a circle, making me laugh. She has her father’s ego.
It’s been almost three years since Ashton told me we were getting married. He did come home the following day, though, with a princess cut diamond ring and got down on one knee. He wanted to have the wedding before the baby came along, but I didn’t want to rush into it. I already knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, but I wanted us both to be sure before finally taking the plunge.
We did things ass-about with Charlie, but we’re ready to expand our family, and this time we decided to get the nuptials out of the way first. We both grew up without siblings, so it’s important to us both that Charlie has that.
Removing my arm from the crook of my dad’s elbow, I bend down, so I’m eye-level with my little girl. Although she looks just like I did when I was a child, she has her father’s sapphire blue eyes.
I straighten the halo of flowers circling her dark curly hair as I speak, “Do you remember what you’re supposed to do when we get to the church?” We went there last night to do a practice run with her.
“Yes, Momma,” she says in her sweet voice.
“Just like we practiced. Sprinkle the rose petals on the floor as you walk down the aisle toward Daddy.” Although last night it was more like throwing large chunks rather than delicate sprinkles.
