by R. C. Martin
“That was the easy part,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Yeah.”
Nobody tells you what you’re missing out on when you’re fucking a bunch of randoms instead of just one woman. Nobody tells you how incredible sex can be once you learn what makes your partner get off. I’ve heard of make-up sex before, who hasn’t? Yet, what we just did doesn’t compare to hearing about it. That was fucking incredible. That was almost worth the anxiety and the sleepless nights and the torment that comes with fighting with the woman that I love.
Almost.
Now, what I want more than anything is to clear the air. I have nothing to hide from her. I’ve been ready to tell her everything for days. Now that she’s here, in my arms where she belongs, I just want to get it over with so we can do that again—only, next round, I’ll take my time.
“She told me she’d been dreaming about me,” I begin without prompting. “Not like how I dream of her; they weren’t memories. It was like she was dreaming of when we might meet again. No two dreams were alike and she said it had been going on for a while. Ever since she and her boyfriend broke up, about six months ago.”
Daphne furrows her brow and I kiss her forehead, wishing to rid her of her worry. “I know how it sounds. It wasn’t sexual or anything like that. In every scenario, we’d talk about Rett, about his letters—the ones he wrote after Grams died. I guess, in her dreams, we talked about God.”
Now, she lifts her eyebrows in surprise, which makes me smirk. “I wasn’t expecting that either. And that’s just the start of it. Apparently, she became a Christian a few years after Rett died. Like me, she started going to church just because she thought it would make her feel closer to my brother. Somewhere along the way, it became more than that for her. She met someone at her church—a woman whose son was in the military. They became close and their friendship is what led Crystal to Christ.
“She told me her whole story, about how her life changed for the better. She said she felt so much peace that it almost made her feel guilty. She said she thought of me a lot. Then she got involved with this guy and got so wrapped up in their relationship that she hardly thought of me at all…until they ended things.
“After the first month of dreams, she thought she was just going crazy or something. After the third month, she wondered if God was trying to tell her something. When they just wouldn’t stop, she became sure of it. She was looking for me because she said God asked her to. She said that when she found me, when she walked into the shop, she felt like she was exactly where she was called to be in a way she’d never felt before.”
I pause for a second, shaking my head as I think back on the moment she told me all of this. Seems just as uncanny now as it did then, even after I’ve had time to think about it. It wasn’t just what she said, it was how she said it—it was how she believed it. “I remember her a lot differently,” I say aloud. “I know nine years can change a person, but it was more than that. It’s like she has this bottomless hope. And the past? It doesn’t torment her at all.
“When she asked me if I ever thought about it—about Rett’s faith and God and all that—I told her about how I go to church sometimes. We talked for a couple hours after that and it was like I was hearing it for the first time; hearing that just because Rett never had a chance to forgive me doesn’t mean that I’m not forgiven by the God he worshipped. She said that whether I want to accept it or not, I’ve already been absolved of all guilt and shame and remorse for what I did to my brother, not to mention every other sin I’ve ever committed. To ignore that truth—I don’t know—it suddenly seems like a waste.
“The truth is, it’s in my nature to do dumb shit; it’s in all of our natures—and yet, God loves us anyway. I know I’ve heard it before, but hearing it from Crystal just got me thinking…maybe Rett had it right. It wasn’t about coping his way through death and war, it was more than that. It was about his life. He wanted that for me. And I want to believe that he would have forgiven me if he had the chance.”
“Trev, of course he would have,” Daph says softly, pressing the palm of her hand against the center of my chest. “I know I never met him, but I don’t need to know him to know that. I know you. I know that you carry him in your heart and that your relationship with him is why you are the man that you are. You would have forgiven him anything. So, yes, he would have forgiven you. Don’t hesitate for a second in believing that.”
I nod, comforted by her assurances. I feel like the hard part is over. Now she knows why my head was in such a fog after Crystal and I said goodbye. From what I understand, accepting God might be as simple as admitting that Jesus is Lord; but there are a lot of things that come with Christianity that I’m not so sure about. Just thinking about it is overwhelming. Right and wrong. Good and bad. Some believe it’s black and white, but I’m not so sure. Like, right now, all I want to do is make love to Daphne. She’s not my wife, but she’s the woman that I love more than anyone else in the world. How could expressing that be wrong?
I’m not even close to having it all figured out yet, but something tells me that’s okay. As I hold Daphne tighter, I know that I’m not alone. She thinks I forgot about her when I was out with Crystal but the truth is, I thought about her the whole time. She’s the one I wanted to come running to when I got my head straight. She’s…my person. More than my lover. More than my best friend.
“I know that you don’t really like to talk about God but, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to be something we don’t talk about. I care about what you think. We promised to not let anything come between us and I don’t want this to be something that does.”
Daphne groans as she props her forehead against my chest. “Okay, God! I hear you. Are you happy, now?”
I scowl in confusion as I reach up and tangle my fingers in her wavy locks. “Wings, what are you talking about?”
She sighs and then lifts her gaze to meet mine. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think God is an eccentric being and a lot of the things He does work out in annoyingly perfect ways.”
“Um, okay.”
“I have Christian friends. Brandon. Avery and Grayson—my brother. None of them have been able to get me to even consider talking to God again. I just…He hurt me. Okay, that’s not fair. He didn’t, but people who love Him did. It hurt so much, which made it feel like the same thing. I just wanted to walk away and not look back. Now my best friend and my boyfriend are both starting to date God.”
I shake my head at her, still confused as to what she’s trying to say.
“He’s reminding me of who He is through your eyes.” She touches her fingertips to my cheek. “Your perfect blue-green eyes. Which, might I add, is such a low blow. He knows how much I love your eyes. More than that, I love you. If you decide that your faith is important to you and you want to share it with me, I’ll give it another try. God wins. He cheated—but He wins.”
I chuckle, amused by the way she talks about God. I won’t tell her this, but there’s always been a sense of familiarity when she mentions Him. Maybe she hasn’t been as far from Him as she’s believed. In any case, now that I’ve finally had the chance to tell her everything, talking is the last thing I want to do. Just to make sure I have all my bases covered—
“I should also tell you that Crystal gave me her number and told me not to be a stranger, but we didn’t hang out while you were gone. I know I’ve said this already, but I’m sorry about the other night. It won’t happen again.”
“I know,” she assures me with a nod. “Thank you for saying it again. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“It’s forgotten,” I say, bringing my lips to hers. I kiss her slowly, lovingly, as my free hand traces its way underneath the blanket. I trail my fingers down her back and up her side before I gently cup her small breast in my hand. She moans and then pushes me away, sitting up abruptly. She turns her back to me and brings her feet to the floor.
“Wait,” she breathes.
I si
t up with her, startled by her reaction. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. I lean forward, trying to see her face, but she only looks away from me. “Fuck,” she mutters, grabbing a fist full of blanket to cover herself. “A half an hour ago, this seemed like it was going to be easier to say.”
“What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”
I watch her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I reply, wishing she would just get on with it. She’s making me nervous. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are glassy with tears and the sight makes my stomach drop. I thought we were good. I thought after we talked, everything would be fine. Instead, she looks like whatever she has to say might be the end of the world. “Daphne, what is it?”
“I’m pregnant.”
She speaks so softly I barely make out the words.
Barely is enough.
I can feel it as all the blood drains from my face. My muscles lock up and I can’t move. My mouth goes dry and I’m not even sure I can swallow. All I can do is stare at her as she watches me—as she gages my reaction.
My reaction. What is my reaction?
I wasn’t prepared for her to say that. In fact, that was the last thing in the world I thought she’d say. But that isn’t the issue here, is it? It doesn’t matter whether or not I was prepared to hear it, it matters if I’m prepared to deal with it—not it. He. Or maybe she.
I blink. I blink and I imagine Daphne’s belly round and full with child. Our child. My child. I blink and I imagine tripping over toys in the middle of the floor and incessant crying and poopy diapers. I blink and I imagine Daphne walking around with our baby cradled in her arms. I blink and I focus in on her face, here, now, and I find myself hoping that he comes out with her nose or that she is born with her mother’s lips. I blink and I realize…I’m surprised but I’m not afraid. This is my life. She is my future.
We have a house. I own a successful business. I can take care of them. I want to take care of them. Daphne’s love is one of a kind. She’ll be the best mother I’ve ever known. We’ll be a family. They’ll be my family.
Holy shit. I have a family!
“Trevor? Please say something…”
He’s still not saying anything. Not a word. The look on his face—I don’t know what it means. I fight the urge to shake him, but I’m so desperate for him to speak. I remind myself that he found out he’s going to be a dad two minutes ago. I suppose it’s only fair that I let him process that information.
Hell—I’m still processing it.
After the first pregnancy test, I was in panic mode—my nausea a result of my nerves as opposed to the baby.
The baby. Our baby.
I’ve said the words over and over and I’m still not used to them.
After the second test, I was overwhelmed with fear—fear over all that I might lose because of my second unplanned pregnancy. It wasn’t until I saw the third positive result that I realized, having children with Trevor is exactly what I want. I mean, dreaming about having kids—it’s not something I do. Not after my nineteenth birthday. Even with Trevor and I starting a life together, there were so many other things to dream and hope for with him. The possibilities were endless, just like we said, and yet I didn’t allow my mind to take me here.
Here was a forbidden place; a place laden with failure and regret and pain—so much pain. But the longer the reality of this baby manifests in my mind, in my heart, in my uterus, the more I begin to believe that God—yeah, God, go figure—didn’t want to wait around for me to figure out how much I wanted a second chance at motherhood; a chance to be everything I wasn’t before; a chance to be better than my own mother…
Even though I don’t feel any more ready today than I was yesterday or last week or last year, I know that I want this baby. Not just because I couldn’t possibly bear giving up another child after enduring birth, but because it’s Trevor’s.
The difference between now and before is Trevor—which is a Big. Fucking. Difference.
I don’t know what he’s thinking or what he’s feeling. Honestly, I don’t know if this is something he wants or not. A baby? Now? Right now? I know it’s a hell-of-a life change. However, I also know that no matter how overwhelming this is, no matter how unprepared I feel, no matter how daunting it is to even think about what it means to be a good mother—I’m carrying his family. I’m growing a Rockwell. So if I need to be the strong one right now, I will be.
When he reaches for the blanket I’ve got clutched around me, pulling it down into my lap, I wonder what he’s doing. Then he slides his hand just below my belly button and stares, as if he can see more than my flat stomach. When he leans down to kiss just above his hand, I gasp, my heart melts, and my eyes fill with fresh tears. It takes every ounce of strength I’ve got to keep from breaking down.
Damn hormones!
The second he sits up, I throw my arms around him. He lifts me into his lap and holds me tight, and I decide the silence isn’t so bad, after all. “Yesterday—when I called—Avery said you weren’t feeling well.”
I nod against his shoulder. “Apparently our little worm doesn’t like milk very much. Or ice cream.”
“Our little worm?” he chuckles.
“Yeah,” I reply with a small smile as I move to look into his eyes. “I could be wrong. It was just an over the counter test. Well, three, which is why I’m pretty sure. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“How do you feel now? Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine,” I grin, amused and in love with his sudden urge to dote on me. “Although, I’ve noticed that I’ve got this growing fondness for PB&J sandwiches.”
“That’s because our little worm knows that’s all daddy can make,” he says, mirroring my grin. My stomach tingles with joy and my eyes well up, again, when he refers to himself as daddy. “What is it?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’m happy. Are you happy? I mean, I know this happened really, really fast and we haven’t talked about it and we didn’t plan for it and there’s a lot to figure out, but I think you’re going to be a great dad and I love you so much and I know it’s scary but—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. It isn’t until after he pulls away that I realize I need to take a breath. “I’m happy, too,” he assures me.
“Really?”
“Mmhmm,” he hums, claiming my mouth with his once more. It doesn’t take long for us to get swept up in each other. I cling to him, feeling overwhelmingly relieved, safe, and loved in his arms. “Wait,” he mutters, breathless. “We can have sex, right? Shit—I practically ravaged you just a minute ago! Why did you let me do that? Is the baby going to be okay?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “It’s fine. The baby will be fine. We can still have sex.”
“And you’re sure you’re feeling—?”
This time, I cut him off with a kiss. When I pull away, I stand and tug on his hand. “Come on, Wolfy. Let’s do it in the shower, this time. When we’re done, you can make me a sandwich and then we can take a nap.”
He comes without further convincing.
Since today is a holiday, after my yoga class I have no other obligations for the rest of the day. I’m under strict orders to stay away from homework and enjoy the company of my friends. I can’t help myself, though. When I get out of the shower and no one is home, I crack open a book to sneak in a little reading. This afternoon, Ryan and I will be out manning the grill. Trish and Logan are coming over and we’re doing burgers and beer for lunch.
“Roman! We’re back,” Ashton calls from the front door.
“You better not be doing homework,” yells Ryan.
I chuckle to myself as I close my book. I’m setting it on my desk when Trisha fills my doorway. She gasps and points at me with a reprimanding finger. “Caught red handed.”
“Shhh,” I insist, grip
ping her shoulders to spin her around. “Don’t tell. Where were you guys, anyway?”
“We went to the store,” she tells me as we head for the kitchen. “You all were seriously lacking in necessary food stuffs. As in sides. It’s like you guys were literally planning on just having burgers and beer. I fixed that. Now that we’re back, you can start making the hamburgers.”
“Did you remember to get—”
“Yes,” she says with a grin and a pat on my shoulder. “We picked up some turkey so you could make The Princess her own stash of burgers.”
Ryan makes a whipping noise with his mouth, accompanied by a gesture of him throwing a couple lashes in my direction. I roll my eyes as I reach for my wallet and pull out my contribution to the groceries. Ashton is too busy laughing to accept the cash, so I just leave it on the dining room table before heading for the sink to wash my hands.
“Be nice,” says Trisha, playfully smacking Ryan in the middle of his chest. “Just ignore them,” she tells me.
“Don’t worry. I am.”
“Hey, I never heard about the party Saturday night. Was it fun?” She leans against the counter and watches me as I begin to gather the things that I need to throw the burgers together.
A lazy grin spreads across my face in remembrance. After we went back to the hotel, Logan ran to the bathroom to fix her makeup, insisting that my biased opinion that she looked great wasn’t to be trusted. When she came back out, she was my Logan again. Total badass. She dragged me around as she worked the room, talking business and pleasure with some of the guests and drinking with her co-workers and friends. She went out of her way to ignore Judah and I was more than happy to oblige; though, he didn’t seem too concerned with approaching us, either.
