Whispered Prayers of a Girl

by Alex Grayson

I feel a nudge against my stomach and look down, running my hands over the sides of her swollen belly.

  “I think someone else is excited too,” I remark with a chuckle.

  She giggles.

  “I wanna see it.”

  I kiss her one more time before scooping her up into my arms and heading out the door. She’s used to me carrying her, so she doesn’t complain, just wraps her arms around me and snuggles her face against my neck. I walk across the yard and into the new house I’ve built for my family. I opt to wait to show the kids until after Gwen sees it. All the rooms are empty. We just need to move everything in and buy what still needs to be bought. I’ve had a lot of help from a few of the local people, friends that I’ve reacquainted with in Cat’s Valley, and James and Jeremy. My parents have even made several trips so my dad could help.

  James wanted to come over today to help me finish up the house, but I declined his offer. I knew today I would be done, and I wanted to be the person to put the finishing touches on it.

  I lead Gwen through every room, letting her take in the white walls I’ll let her pick the paint for, the hardwood floors and the shag carpet in the bedrooms, the kitchen with the granite countertops, the master bathroom with the huge garden tub and separate shower, the big family room we plan to fill during holidays. I watch Gwen’s face as we go through each room, and every time her smile grows, my heart feels fuller.

  Gwen and I married two years ago and we’ve all been living in my cramped cabin. I ended up converting the utility room into two small separate rooms for the kids. I wanted them with me, and I couldn’t leave the cabin because of the horses. It was to tide us over until I could build a house for us.

  When we stop at the room that’s connected with ours, tears form in her eyes. It’s the nursery our baby will sleep and grow up in. When we first talked about building a house, Gwen asked if she could see the designs for the one I was going to build for Clara and Rayne. She fell in love with the design, and with a few tweaks here and there, we decided to go with it. At first it was painful to think about building something that was meant for Clara and know she’d never get to see it, but over time I realized she would want me to still build it. Besides, I have a feeling she can see it from where she is.

  “This is perfect,” Gwen says, her voice full of emotion. She looks around the room. “The whole house is perfect.” She walks over to me, gets to her tiptoes, and gives me a sweet kiss. “Thank you,” she murmurs against my lips.

  I wrap my arms around her and bring her in as close as I can. I love feeling her belly against mine. When she first told me she was pregnant, my first reaction was to be scared out of my mind. Memories of the many times Clara fell pregnant only to miscarry gripped me tight and started suffocating me. It took Gwen several times calling my name to snap me out of it. Immediately afterwards, I had her doctor on the phone, demanding an appointment for the next day. He was a local doctor and the same one that treated Clara, so he knew my history with Clara and saw the fear on my face. After going over Gwen’s past medical records and assessing her himself, he reassured me that she was perfectly healthy and should have no reason for concern. He said she should have a completely normal and healthy pregnancy. His reassurance helped, but didn’t take away the worry completely. She’s got a month and a half left, and I don’t think the worry will go away until she delivers. It’s just ingrained in me.

  “When can we move in?” she asks.

  I lace my fingers together loosely and rest them against the small of her back. Her hair is so long now that I feel the ends tickle my fingers.

  “All that’s left now is for you to pick a color for the walls, have the furniture and appliances delivered, then pack up the cabin and move everything over here.” I give her a stern look. “And when I say pack up the cabin, I mean anyone other than you.”

  She laughs and pinches my sides. “Shush. I can do a little.”

  I narrow my eyes at her, but she doesn’t back down. I give in only because when it comes time for it, I’ll get my way anyway and not let her lift a finger. I’ve already got packers and movers lined up to help.

  I scoop her back into my arms and carry her back down to the living room. As soon as I set her on her feet, we hear the pitter-patter of small feet on the porch seconds before the front door is thrown open and Daniel and Kelsey rush through the door.

  “Can we see?” Kelsey asks excitedly.

  I catch sight of my wife’s expression. It’s been two and a half years and she still gets a soft look when Kelsey speaks and shows her happiness.

  I watch as Gwen takes both of the kids’ hands and waddles as she leads them around the house. I follow them with a smile on my face. I look at Daniel as he eagerly points out how he wants his new room to be set up. My eyes next move to Kelsey and admire the many changes in her over the last couple of years. The once quiet girl that held so much pain in her eyes is now vibrant and outgoing. I then look at Gwen and feel my chest swell.

  These three people have become my life, and with them, I’ve moved past the pain of losing Clara and Rayne. Through their love I’ve become stronger, and through me, I like to think they’ve become stronger. I no longer fear the loneliness of the future but embrace it with both hands, because I know it’s one that I’ll cherish living for the rest of my life.

  Afterword

  For more information on selective mutism please follow the link below.

  http://selectivemutismcenter.org/whatisselectivemutism/

  Acknowledgments

  This part is always the hardest because I’m always so worried I’m leaving someone out. With that said, this acknowledgement is going to be short and sweet. Not because I’m taking the easy way out, but because I don’t want to miss anyone.

  Before I give my thanks, I want to say that this story really touched my heart. Although it is fictional in its entirety, there are people out there that suffer from the same symptoms and issues as the characters in this book. I wanted to do justice to these issues, and I hope I’ve done that. I may not have experienced or know anyone that’s experienced what these characters went through, but I still felt every painful emotion they endured. These characters were my babies, and I hurt every time they did. I laughed when they laughed. I cried when they cried. And my heart sang when they found their happiness. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Now, on to the many, many thanks I need to give. I want to give a humongous thanks and big hugs to every single person that was part of this book. To my husband and kids, to my girls with the Seven Horsemen, to my street team, my beta team, and everyone that shared anything related to this book. To all the blogs and all the wonderful readers. THANK YOU! To my publicist, Veronica, and the rest of the L Woods team for working so hard for me. To Mikey and Andria for being my writing partners and sounding board. My editor, Olivia, my formatter, Tiffany, my cover photographer, Shauna, and cover designer, Marisa, thank you, thank you! There are no words to express my immense gratitude for everything everyone has done to make this book what it is. I can only say thank you from the bottom of my heart, and please know that each of you played a huge role in creating my fictional baby, and I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Also by Alex Grayson

  The Jaded Series

  Shatter Me

  Reclaim Me

  Unveil Me

  Awaken Me

  Stand Alone

  Endless Obsession

  Consumed Series

  Always Wanting

  Bare Yourself

  Introduction

  Turn the page for the first chapter of A.M. Wilson’s At the Risk of Forgetting…

  Cami has come a long way from the scared girl who left home at sixteen and pregnant. With hard work and determination, she’s built her daughter a dream life in Arrow Creek, West Virginia. As a single mom, career paramedic, and a homeowner, she doesn’t have time to entertain love. Or men. Or sex. Definitely forget about dating.

  Fast forward
fourteen years, she stumbles upon her childhood best friend and love, Lawrence ‘Law’ Briggs, at the local coffee shop. A painful confrontation ensues and challenges her carefully constructed reality. Her strength wavers with Law’s reappearance as half-truths are revealed and memories flood through the barrier. Each encounter uncovers the remnants of their deep feelings, but the pain and guilt between them leads Cami to believe they could never work through their past. Dark secrets hold them apart. The deepest betrayal imaginable.

  Her daughter was a gift she'd never regret, even if it meant she lost him forever. The answer seems simple, but it’s not. Years of hurt and suffering can’t hide that Law still loves her, but is that love enough?

  At the Risk of Forgetting by A.M. Wilson

  “I’m grabbing a coffee on my way in.”

  Rain pelted my yellow umbrella as I rushed down the cracked sidewalk towards the only coffee shop in town. Of all the days for my car to break down, it had to be the day we’re experiencing torrential rain. Factor in that the tiny town of Arrow Creek had only one taxi, zero Uber drivers, and one bus that left at the ass crack of dawn, left my options at calling in sick or walking.

  Then add in the very important meeting with my boss scheduled for 10 a. m. and my decision was made for me.

  The gray skies overhead reflected my mood as my own storm of nerves churned inside me. I’d been with the ambulance company in our county for nearly a decade, and this was the first time I’d taken the step to speak with my boss about implementing new technology. To say our current system was archaic was a gross understatement. Patient care was important to me, and it was hard to maintain when paperwork was often getting mislabeled or misplaced. A new streamlined electronic system was exactly what we needed. The problem, however, was that the board and my boss were a group of older gentlemen who firmly believed in the motto, “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”

  “You’ve still got another fifteen-minute walk. You don’t have time for coffee,” my best friend Kiersten groaned through the phone.

  “It’s because I have another fifteen-minute walk that I need coffee. I won’t have time to down a cup before the meeting, and I can’t go into a meeting with those misogynistic assholes without coffee.”

  “This is true.”

  I hummed a response and stepped into the warm café. Just the smell of fresh coffee beans and sweet donuts woke me up. I drifted into line behind a tall, dark haired man and listened to Kiersten pry into my private life.

  “So, are you going to tell me about your date last night?”

  I sighed. I don’t know when I’d learn to stop telling Kiersten about my failed dating life, but I wished I’d started months ago.

  “Not much to tell,” I mumbled, sandwiching the phone between my ear and shoulder to dig my wallet from my purse. “We had a nice dinner at his place, and then I left.”

  She’s silent for a beat. “Say again?”

  “You heard me,” I muttered, not wanting to repeat myself. The line moved forward a step, so I went with it, praying it hurried up.

  “Please explain to me how you went to this guy’s house, had dinner there, and left. Let me rephrase that,” she shouted, stopping my retort. “You had dinner, in the place where his bed is, and you left. Without sex. What is the matter with you?”

  I dropped my voice to a whisper. “He was playing ‘Phil Collins’ In the Air Tonight’.”

  “What?” Kiersten sputtered.

  A throbbing ache began in the center of my forehead. I squeezed the bridge of my nose with my freehand and stepped forward in line. “That’s why I didn’t stay. You don’t walk into a room possibly to get laid and have Phil Collins at the top of your sex playlist. Huge red flag.”

  The broad back of the man in front of me straightened, seemingly at my words, and I mentally slapped myself for being so coarse in the middle of a public place.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just an 80’s fan? That song used to be really popular.”

  “Not for sex,” I whispered, darting my eyes around the room to see if anyone else was listening. Except for the man in front of me, I seemed to be ignored.

  “Maybe that’s the song you were conceived to,” Kiersten threw out.

  At the thought of my parents, my stomach soured. “This conversation is over.

  “Oh, come on. So, his taste in sex music sucks. He could have played some, I don’t know, Nickelback to put you in the mood–ˮ

  “No. Just no.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so high maintenance, Cam.”

  “I’m not.” Three people ahead of me. Move people. Pulling the phone from my ear, I quickly checked the time. 9:30.

  “I still think this is just another excuse for you.”

  Kiersten’s voice came at me, so I moved the phone back to answer her. “Leave it alone. I’m not seeing him again.”

  “In fourteen years, you’ve gone out on approximately six dates, none of them ending in sex. Unless you’re picking up prostitutes from some internet website, that means you haven’t gotten some in fourteen years. Are you sure your vagina still works?”

  It was my turn to straighten my spine. “I’m getting coffee right now. In the middle of a coffee shop. In public,” I hissed angrily.

  She ignored me and went on. “Maybe you should get yourself checked to be sure. By a hot doctor, perhaps?”

  “Do you want me to grab you a drink or not?” The line finally moved, so I was now customer number three.

  “Mocha macchiato with a double shot.”

  At least the conversation moved to a normal topic.

  “Oh! A Gerard Butler look-a-like OB-GYN. Can you imagine the size of his–ˮ

  “Kiersten!”

  “What?” She feigned innocence, but I’m not stupid. “I was going to say hands, you perv.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you in fifteen.”

  “That would make a good movie though. Gerard Butler, the hot, mercurial OB. By day, he feels up vaginas and by night he fuc–ˮ

  “Goodbye, Kiersten!” I cut off her ridiculous fantasy. My cheeks suddenly felt hot, even though the rest of me was cold.

  “Oh hey, what time is the party? And what should I get her? I suck at buying gifts.”

  Finally, a topic I’d happily discuss in the middle of a coffee shop.

  “This Saturday at noon. My place as usual. What does any fourteen-year-old like? Makeup, books, music, clothes. Nothing dating related.” Coming from Kiersten, that’d be a disaster. “I can’t believe how old she’s getting. I’m not ready for this age.”

  “You’re a great mom. You can handle anything. Okay, see you soon, chick.” With that, she hung up.

  As I lowered the phone from my ear, ready to indulge in a serious amount of coffee, an ominous vibe hit me. I didn’t realize where it was coming from until I placed my phone into my purse and looked up. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck as a shiver ran down my spine. The tall man in front of me had turned so that he was now facing the back of the line, his angry eyes aimed at me.

  All of a millisecond passed before I got my first look into the fourteen-years-older face of my childhood love, Lawrence Briggs.

  Or as I’d always called him—Law.

  Oh, God.

  He was as beautiful as always. Same dark, unruly hair and gray/green eyes. Except now that dark hair had a few threads of gray near the temples, and his eyes were outlined by creases.

  And he was tall. So much taller than the last time I saw him. And built. Law was always strong but more lean than buff. Now he had big, rounded biceps that I was surprised fit into the sleeves of his Henley.

  My mental calculation of all the ways he’d changed was cut short when he opened his mouth.

  “Explains a lot,” he growled, not concealing the tone or volume of his voice.

  Panic stole over me, and I looked around the room for assistance. Everyone was conveniently rushing around or ignoring my blatant plea for an intervention.

  “
I-I’m sorry?” That shiver turned into a full-on tremble.

  “Fourteen years ago, you disappeared into the night. Without a trace. Nobody knew where you’d went. Hearing you now, it sounds like you got yourself a teenaged daughter. Explains a lot.”

  I opened my mouth to deny, deny, deny, but playing dumb would get me nowhere. There’s no way in hell I wouldn’t recognize the man standing before me, just like he knew it was me as soon as I got into line behind him. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he clocked me the second I opened the door to this place.

  I studied my wet shoes. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I never was a stupid kid,” he bit out.

  For a second, my heart completely stopped, and my eyes snapped to his. He knew. I didn’t know how, but he’d figured it all out.

  “I’m sure as hell not a stupid man. I can do simple math. I know you wouldn’t have run away for the hell of it. Even if your whole life went to shit, you still had me and you knew it.”

  “I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.” Screw getting coffee. If I stood there another second, I was going to break down.

  Even as my feet carried me to the door, I could feel my heart trying to pull me back towards him.

  “Just tell me who!” He barked after me.

  My spine straightened almost painfully, the realization that he didn’t know hit me like a semi-truck. “Who, what?” I whispered, not turning around.

  “Who knocked you up?” This was growled from beside me. Right near my ear. The closest I’ve been to Law in fourteen years, and it physically hurt to have his body so near, but emotionally, he’s never been further away.

  I dropped my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Matters to me. Matters whose dick was so important you’d throw everything we shared away. Damnit, you dropped out of school and left town without so much as a note in my mailbox as to where you went. Do you know what that did to me?”