Forbidden- Our Secret Love

by Elise Quinn Larson

  His posture relaxed slightly. “Grandma thinks we need to talk.”

  “Yes. We do.”

  “So talk.”

  I can drag this out, I thought, but what’s the point? Just tell him. “I’m pregnant.”

  I knew I’d gotten through when he flinched. “Pregnant.”

  “Yes. Pregnant.”

  “How?”

  What a silly question, I thought. “The usual way. You in me. Without a condom. Our last night together, remember?”

  “But the IUD . . .”

  “It failed. A rare chance, but it happened. A doctor removed the IUD a few weeks ago, but the baby is still there. In me. Our baby, Trey. Ours.”

  Nothing. No response. Had I stunned him into silence?

  I moved back to the sofa and sat, placing the pillow on my lap and folding my hands on top of it, portraying a calm I did not feel. Tell him the rest, my mind said. Get it over with.

  “I’m leaving,” I said. “I can’t stay in Idaho, obviously. Not with an incestuous pregnancy. So I’m leaving.”

  “When?”

  “Next week.”

  “Where?”

  What’s with the one-word questions? I wondered. Is this his notion of a conversation?

  “Rhode Island. Where I’ll be safe. Our baby will be safe. And you’ll be fine in Boise, with your career and . . .”

  “God damn my career!”

  Startled by the fury in his voice, I pulled back, but he made no move to come toward me.

  “Why are you so hung up on my career, Elise? I asked you—twice!—to move to Rhode Island with me, where we could be safe. ‘But it’s so far away,’ you said. ‘I’ll miss our family,’ you said. ‘What about your career?’ you said. And what did I say in response? I’m pretty sure you remember. What did I say about your damned excuses?”

  “You said you’d drive a truck if you had to.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you remember?”

  “No.”

  “What else? What’s the main thing I said?”

  “Only love matters,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “You said the rest doesn’t matter. Only love matters.”

  “Exactly. Only love matters.” He took one step toward me. Just one. “Look at me,” he said. “Who am I?”

  Our eyes met as I recalled our grandmother’s words: “Only one thing truly matters in this world. Love.”

  I stood up, dropping the pillow on the floor. “You are my love,” I replied. “Always you. Forever you.”

  “Then how in God’s name can you tell me you’re pregnant with my baby but you’re leaving? Going to Rhode Island without me? How can you believe my career is more important than our love? What can you possibly be thinking?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought . . . I just thought . . .”

  “You think too much,” he said. “Love doesn’t come from the brain. It comes from the heart. Love is a feeling, Elise. The greatest feeling there is.”

  He stretched his arms toward me, both hands open and palms up in supplication. “Touch me, sweetheart. Feel me. Feel my love. Because nothing else matters.”

  I didn’t think about it. Not for a second. I was all through thinking. I crossed that space between us, feeling his strong arms around me and his mouth on mine. I touched him everywhere my hands could reach, desperate to share our love completely, without fear or reservation.

  Scooping me up, he carried me to the downstairs bedroom, his intentions quite clear. “But Grandma’s here,” I reminded him. “She might . . .”

  He grinned. “She ordered me to fix things between us. That’s exactly what I intend to do, unless you can think of a better way?”

  Of course not, my mind replied. Then it shut down entirely, allowing me to fully open my heart to love.

  Epilogue

  T rey resigned his teaching position on Monday, giving a “family emergency” as the reason for his abrupt departure. By doing so, he ended his promising career at Boise State, which broke my heart. But he didn’t seem concerned.

  He sublet his apartment to another professor, taking nothing but his clothes and laptop. I limited myself to two suitcases and Emma. Nothing else matters, I told myself over and over. And I was right about the physical belongings, which were replaceable.

  But family was different. Our family was not replaceable, and leaving them was agony for me.

  As usual in times of crisis or sorrow, everyone gathered at Daddy’s house to say goodbye to us. Grandma cooked a big meal, but no one ate very much. It’s hard to eat when throats are choked with tears.

  Except for Johnny, who maintained his usual stoicism, we were all in tears at our final departure. CJ and Stacey cried unashamedly, along with our precious grandmother. Even CJ’s boys got a bit teary. As for Daddy, the pain of leaving my dear father was excruciating. I had no idea when we’d see our family again, if ever. We were going into exile.

  We left Idaho in the dark of night on October 5th, taking a bus to Salt Lake City with Emma beside us in her carrier. We left Salt Lake at noon the next day on a one-way flight to Providence, paying cash for our tickets to avoid a credit card trail. We were criminals, after all, carrying proof of our crime in our blood and the baby within me.

  We’d been traveling for twenty-four hours by the time we landed in Rhode Island, lost and exhausted, with poor Emma complaining loudly about her enforced confinement. Desperate for a bed, we took a shuttle to a nearby hotel and collapsed, holding tightly to each other on this first night in our strange new home.

  To make matters worse, I awoke to a serious bout of morning sickness, lurching to the bathroom in time to lose the remaining remnants of airline food. That’s where Trey found me, kneeling on a cold tile floor, my long hair draping the sides of the toilet.

  “Look on the bright side,” he said, pulling my hair from the brink. “Things can only get better from now on.”

  Too miserable to laugh, I could only hope he was right.

  While I recovered, Trey began an online search for a place to live. Thanks to the trust fund Granddad Quinn had set up shortly after Trey’s birth, we had enough money to live comfortably for at least a year if we were frugal. Per Trey’s request, the account had been transferred to a bank in Providence, giving him immediate access to his funds.

  We found a two-bedroom furnished apartment in a nice neighborhood in North Providence, just two miles from Rhode Island College, where Trey hoped to teach eventually. We moved in right away and were soon comfortable. Emma cheerfully adapted to her new surroundings, though she stubbornly refused to sleep on the spare bed in the second bedroom. Sleeping with us was so much better.

  Our perfect baby girl arrived six months later, on April 17th—just one week before Trey’s twenty-seventh birthday. We named her Ellen Elise Larson: Ellen for our grandmother, and Elise for Trey’s mother and me. We call her Ellie, and she is our greatest joy.

  At two months, Ellie is happy, healthy and so beautiful, with our dark hair and blue eyes. She delights us with little smiles and sweet coos when we talk and sing to her. Each day with our precious baby is a new and exciting adventure. We can’t imagine our life without Ellie.

  Trey was right. Things have gotten better. We feel safe in Rhode Island, still “hiding in plain sight” to some extent, but no longer fearing discovery like we did in Idaho. Though we can never be officially married, people who see the diamond ring on the third finger of my left hand assume we are, and that’s fine with us.

  Trey is hoping for a teaching position this fall, and with so many colleges in the area—eight in Providence and ninety within fifty miles—we think his chances are good. He’s applied to several, hoping for positive responses.

  In the meantime, he’s working at odd jobs (truck driving is not one of them) and writing a book about ‘the impact of the Spenserian stanza on English literature from the sixteenth century on.’ (I marvel at his fascination with the subject!)

  When Trey isn’t working,
writing or playing with Ellie, he’s running on the East Bay Bike Path, a fourteen-mile paved trail between Providence and Bristol. With spectacular river scenery along the way, this trail is my running man’s idea of heaven on earth.

  My life revolves around Trey, Ellie and Emma (no longer a kitten but still a delightful little creature). I’m currently content in my role as homemaker and mother, but I haven’t forgotten my dream of becoming a lawyer.

  When Trey first came up with the idea of us moving to Rhode Island, he mentioned the Roger Williams School of Law in Bristol, just eighteen miles south of Providence. Their JD program offers a part-time option, which would be perfect for me until Ellie is older. With Trey’s encouragement, I’m thinking of enrolling sometime soon—maybe next year.

  Do I have any regrets? Of course. My biggest regret is living so far from our family. I miss them terribly, especially Daddy, Grandma and CJ. Sometimes I cry from the pain of it, releasing my tears when Trey and Ellie are sleeping. But we stay in touch via our cell phones, and Daddy may bring Grandma for a visit this fall, when the autumn leaves are in full color.

  We never hear from Quinn, who has reached the pinnacle of football stardom with another Super Bowl win. Perhaps he thinks any association with us could tarnish his reputation. I refuse to think he doesn’t care about us. Despite what he said, I think he paid the blackmail money to protect us along with himself. Trey doesn’t agree, but I know there’s goodness in Quinn beneath all the bragging and bluster. I love Quinn, and I hope he finds happiness.

  It’s been a rough journey for Trey and me in the four years from my twenty-first birthday to now. Our love faced many challenges, both internal (my fears) and external (society’s laws). But when Trey holds me in his arms, or when our sweet baby smiles at me, I know we’ve done the right thing.

  Society is wrong. Our love is not a crime or a sin. Our love is infinitely precious. It’s the only thing that matters. And perhaps one day, people like us will be able to love freely and openly, without fear or condemnation. Perhaps this last taboo will finally disappear.

  Thank you for taking the time to read Forbidden: Our Secret Love. If you enjoyed it, please consider posting a review on Amazon or Goodreads. And be sure to read the powerfully moving story of Johnny Larson and his Elise in Destiny: Our Forever Love (The Larson Family Saga, Book 1).