by Rowe, Ruby
Camilla
Liam and I are playing with his action figures on the hotel bed when I hear knocking. I leave Liam in the bedroom and head to the door, expecting it to be Sasha.
“Hello, who’s there?”
“It’s room service, ma’am.”
“But I didn’t order anything.” I look through the peephole, and there’s a man in a hotel uniform.
“Someone called in an order for you.” Hmm … Ellis maybe? I inch the door open and spot the cart of food with him.
“Sorry, I was only being cautious.”
The young man smiles. “I understand.” I step aside for him to enter, and the amount of food delivered confirms that it’s from Ellis.
I’m comforted by the gesture, even if he only did it for Liam. Hurrying to my purse, I find some cash and tip him before I wheel the cart to the living room.
“Guess what, sweetie,” I yell, craning my neck to see Liam. “Ellis surprised us with dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Yessss,” he says excitedly before he jumps off the bed, almost falling on his face.
“Oh, be careful.”
“Boss is nice.”
“Yes, he sure is.” Of course, he booked us in a suite that’s close to the size of my previous apartment. An apartment I’m wondering if I should’ve kept. Who am I kidding? There’s no way Ellis would allow Liam to live there again. Where will we end up now?
After I get Liam set up to eat at a desk in the living room, I fix myself a plate and sit on the couch. Holding my phone in front of me, I debate on texting Ellis. This is an excuse for me to reach out to him, so I’m taking advantage of it, even if it hurts me in the end.
Me: Hi, thank you for dinner. Liam’s thrilled. He also loved the pool.
Ellis: You’re welcome.
I wait and wait, but he doesn’t text again. It’s time to open up to him, and maybe then he’ll do the same.
Me: I need to tell you something. Besides Liam and my father, you’re the only male to ever breathe to me the three beautiful words I love you. Only you.
I thought they’d be the most special words I’d ever hear from your lips, but I was wrong. There are two words that would mean more to me than any in our language. “Come home.” Please say them, Ellis. Please…
Clenching my eyes shut, I breathe through the heartache so I don’t shed tears in front of Liam. Unable to eat, I look at my phone in my hands. I stare at the screen and stare some more. I wait and wait until my fingers hurt from gripping it so hard.
He isn’t going to message me back.
Me: I’m sorry. I’ll respect your wish for space, but don’t think for a second that I’m giving up on us.
Tossing my phone across the cushions, I look at the plate in my lap. I glance at the room service cart, and the guilt creeps in over the food that will go to waste.
I’ve felt true hunger before. When I first rescued Sasha from our parents, I went several days without food on more than one occasion as I moved us around, searching for jobs.
I would eat ketchup on cheap, stale bread, or I’d survive on Ramen noodles for days straight. Sasha was always fed first. I didn’t rescue her from a horrific home life to let her starve to death, so if I had to skip lunch and dinner to ensure she had a meal, I did it.
My phone rings, and I lunge across the couch to grab it. Sasha.
“You must’ve sensed me thinking about you.”
“Hi. I called to tell you I’m not coming over.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m going to live with Greyson for a while. He’s giving me a job, too, and I’m gonna go to NA.”
“Wait, how did all this happen?”
“He offered, and at first I refused, but he kept pushing until I accepted. He thinks you and Ellis could use the time alone to work on your relationship, and I agree. I’ve been a burden long enough.”
“You’re never a burden.”
“Right. I want life to be easier for you, and I think this will help, so I’m going.”
“Listen … Greyson isn’t exactly single.”
“He said he lives alone and that it was no inconvenience. He has to know better than to let a chick move in with him if another woman’s in the picture, even if our relationship is platonic.”
“You’d think, but don’t spend too much time with him. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m not stupid. I’m aware he’s out of my league, and besides, you know the sober Sasha won’t get close to him.”
“No man is out of your league.”
“I have to go. Greyson’s ready for us to leave.”
“Did Ellis speak to you?”
“No, he’s been hiding out in his office. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. Call me tomorrow so I can hear all about your job.”
“I doubt I’ll know much by then. I imagine he won’t have me start right away.”
“I love you, Sasha, and never forget that I’m here for you.”
“I love you, too. I’m gonna make you proud, sis. This time I will.”
We end the call, and I sigh. Her news didn’t ease my tension whatsoever. She’ll be back in my care in no time since the Whitney I met last night would never go for another woman living with Greyson.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Camilla
The knock on the door startles me. I sit up in bed and pull on the pajama pants I had laying at the end of it. The clock reads 12:30 a.m.
Not wanting to wake Liam, I forego turning on the light and instead walk carefully to the living room of the suite, feeling my way as I go.
I flip on a lamp by the couch and hurry to the door about the time the person knocks again. Looking in the peephole, I see him. It’s Ellis, and I can’t open the door fast enough.
The light in the hotel hallway reveals his handsome face. His blue eyes are weary, and his hair’s disheveled, but he’s still sexy in loose jeans and a black hoodie. A Denver Broncos graphic is across the front of his broad chest. He stares into my eyes without a word.
“Ellis, hi. Is everything OK?”
“Come home.”
My body begins to tremble as his words sink in and we gaze at each other. Is he truly in front of me, saying what I long to hear, or is this a dream? He said the words, but his eyes expose his anguish.
I should wait to be sure that he means it, but I can’t wait, so I throw my arms around his neck. He only hesitates a few seconds and then brings me in close, hugging me snugly. I feel his nose in my hair and his heavy breath on my neck.
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”
He stiffens but doesn’t let me go. After a few seconds, I pull back to get a better read on him. Not wanting him to disappear, I keep hold of his waist. He doesn’t look down at me. No … please no. “You’re not here for me, are you?”
His head falls back, and he blows out a breath.
“Let me inside.” I walk back into the suite so he can come in and shut the door. While my body shakes, I cross my arms and grip my biceps. My mind races with a hundred scenarios of what he’ll say and do.
He strolls over, so I lower my arms, wanting him in my personal space more than ever. He slides his fingers through my hair and grips it, and I can’t help but lean my cheek against his warm hand.
“I’m here for you, too, and I’m not leaving town, but I need space and time to think about everything. I want to believe we can get past this, but I can’t make any promises.
“What Tony did, the years I missed with Liam, and not feeling like I can trust you spurred an anger that’s clawing at my insides.”
“Ellis, there aren’t words to express how sorry I am for my part in this. My heart breaks for the time you lost, as well. But I refuse to be angry at Tony any longer.
“What he did led me to you, and we created that special boy in the other room. I would never wish to change the past. I can’t regret it.”
He exhales what I pray is a fraction of his anger.
“I want to stay mad at you, and I hate how you make it so damn hard.”
“I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t hoping we could work things out.” With his fingers deep in my hair, he massages my scalp and wraps his other arm around my waist.
His eyes tell his urge to resist, but I won’t let him go. I shove my body forward, determined to show him how perfectly we mold together … how magical it is when we touch.
He eyes my lips and dips his head to kiss them, and as soon as our mouths collide, relief washes over me. He slips his tongue inside, but it doesn’t become the fervent kiss I expect from him, where his hands are everywhere and I’m breathless in seconds.
He’s not fisting my hair or bruising my lips with his carnal touch. Instead, it’s a languid kiss, one expressing apprehension or maybe appreciation, relief of his own. I can’t tell, and it’s increasing my anxiety.
Regardless, there’s that slow burn in my belly that spreads to between my legs. My body doesn’t care what’s garbled in my mind.
It only yearns for more of his touch. It needs to be possessed by his mouth and hands, his warmth and strength. I pull away and grab the back of his hair.
“Take me right here. Make me submit. Punish me if it will bring you back to me.”
He pulls my arms down, and the same hurt swims in his eyes.
“Not yet. I told you I need time.” Dragging my teeth over my bottom lip, I nod swiftly. I’ll obey his wishes and find patience so I don’t scare him off. “I want to see him and take him home,” he adds.
“He’s sleeping.” Ellis strolls toward the bedroom, and once he reaches it, he stares at the bed where Liam is curled into a ball on his side facing us.
Light from the living room casts on him, and it’s enough to see our child’s parted lips and little hands resting near his face. Striding to him, Ellis drops to his knees next to the bed. He places a hand around Liam’s back and the other on his head and strokes his hair.
Then I hear it; Ellis’s soft cries give sound to the silent space. His body shakes as he gazes at our child. Emotions overwhelm him, and his head falls forward to rest on Liam’s waist.
“Liam…” His cries grow louder, more gut-wrenching. He continues to stroke his hair as he nudges him closer.
“You’re my son. I have a son.”
I lean against the doorframe and slide down against it until I’m a puddle on the floor, weeping, too. I’m trapped in a cage of emotions: guilt, despair, joy, and love.
Regret I said I wouldn’t feel for what Tony did is in the cage with me, trying to take hold to strangle my resolve, but I won’t allow it. I can’t.
No, instead I’ll cling to the hope that through Tony’s actions and death, Ellis, Liam and I will be given a beautiful life … a magnificent future.
But it will only happen if we believe in the possibility. I do believe, and I’ll hang on to that faith for Ellis, too, until he trusts in us again. I’ll fight for our family. I’ll make us whole.
Ellis
For minutes, I let out the grief I’ve held in from losing Tony. I release the pain from the years I lost with Liam, but mostly I cry for the overwhelming amount of love I have for my son.
I felt a strong fondness for him when I believed he was my nephew, but it doesn’t compare to how I feel knowing he’s my flesh and blood. My purpose for living expanded exponentially by hearing that single truth.
Wiping my eyes, I ponder how I’ll tell him I’m his father. How will he respond? Will it scare him away or bring us closer? Neither of our lives will ever be the same.
Camilla sniffles, so I look over my shoulder at her. She’s sitting on the floor, taking a front row seat to my most vulnerable state.
She gets up and walks over to us. Sitting on the side of the bed next to me, she places her hand on his legs. Her long hair shrouds her swollen eyes, and her skin is blotchy and pink.
I realize she’s the stark contrast to how she was the night she got inside my car and listened to my terms. She was defiant and angry, tough and strong, and the precise challenge I was looking for.
Unlike the women who repeatedly threw themselves at me, she was going to fight, and I looked forward to breaking her to prove I was powerful and in control of my life and those around me.
Dominating her would rid me of the inadequacy I’d felt all my life. She was going to symbolize the room full of people I ran away from in a fit of panic. She was going to pay for hiding Liam from his family.
So, I moved her in under duress, and lied to her, too, making her believe I knew what it meant for her to submit to me. The truth was, I didn’t have a clue what respect a submissive deserved, but I did accomplish one of my goals; I broke her.
Now, she sits before me, plagued with the guilt and pain I initially wanted her to endure, but instead of it giving me satisfaction, it makes me feel like scum.
And the reason is because I now understand what she was fighting for and feared she’d lose. She would’ve done anything I asked to keep Liam.
“I hate to wake him. Why don’t you sleep in the bed, and I’ll take the couch? We’ll go home in the morning,” she whispers.
Considering her statement, I could be suspicious that she’s still living with that fear, being compliant only to please me so I don’t take Liam away from her.
But her eyes always tell a different story. They gaze at me like I can do no wrong, and her body responds to my touch as if it could never get enough of it. The words she breathes seem straight from her heart.
She claims she loves me and wants to be my submissive in its authentic form. What do I do with that? … Nothing. I do nothing and keep my distance from Camilla unless I can forgive her for hiding Liam all these years and for the role she played in Tony’s deceit.
I can’t be anything to her if I don’t trust that her actions are genuine. I want more than anything to believe this is more than her surviving … more than a way for her to keep her son. It has to be more than another form of running.
“Or, we can sleep in the bed together with him between us,” she adds. Probably because I’ve not replied to her previous suggestion.
“No, I’ll take the sofa. If he wakes up and I’m in bed with him, he’ll be confused.”
Scrunching her forehead, she nods. “OK.”
I eye my child one last time before I walk to the entrance of the living room. I turn back to Camilla.
“Two things… Tomorrow I’m telling Liam I’m his father. He might not understand now, but he will in time.”
“I think that’s wonderful. What’s the other thing?”
“If I’m to trust you, then you need to tell me about your past. I want to know why you took Sasha from your parents. Why have you been in hiding? I can’t trust someone I don’t know, so you have to let me in, too.”
She swallows and tucks hair behind her ear.
“I can do that. As hard as it will be to talk about it after all these years, I want someone else to know. I want you to know.”
Nodding, I leave her alone in the room and head for the sofa. I remove my shoes and strip off my hoodie before I lie down.
Why did my life take this turn? If my brother were here, I’d cuss at him, lay him out cold, and then I’d help him up so I could hug him. I’d thank him for creating this domino effect, which gave me that amazing kid.
Yes, I could’ve had a child already if I’d wanted to, but he wouldn’t have been Camilla’s. She’s the reason he’s so damn remarkable.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sasha
“Shit, why are you so loud?” Without opening my eyes, I slam my hand down on the alarm clock next to me, but it doesn’t help, so the annoying thing keeps blasting in my ear.
Dammit. I sit up and lean on one elbow while I figure out how to shut it off. I finally find the right button. “Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me I have sight and hearing.”
Falling back on the bed, I cover my head with the blanket and yawn. Dru
gs. They’re my next thought, so that means I need more sleep to make me forget.
***
“Wake up.” My blanket is yanked back, so I open my eyes wide.
“Greyson! What are you doing in here?” I grab the blanket and cover myself back up. “What if I had been naked?”
“Hmm … I hadn’t thought of that.” He shrugs. “You’re not. Now, get ready. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.” I sit up in bed, in my white tank top and shorts, embarrassed that he saw me braless.
He looks handsome in khakis and a navy dress shirt he hasn’t tucked in yet. I turn my head away with the hope that I won’t get another whiff of his enticing scent.
It’s soap, cologne or aftershave. Whatever the concoction, it made him smell delicious. Like lickably so. Yes, I made that word up.
“Did you set the alarm after I fell asleep?” I ask.
“Yep, and I thought the volume would do the trick, but no such luck.”
“I’m grateful for getting to stay here, but you should respect my boundaries. If this is my room, then don’t come in here without knocking first.”
He scratches the back of his head, which I’ve noticed he does when he’s nervous or thinking. Or, maybe he does it with the hope that when his shirt lifts from doing so, I’ll see his washboard stomach and forget how he misbehaved. Strategic on his part since it’s working.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t want someone barging in my room without permission. Get ready. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes now, instead of twenty.”
“Where in the world are we going?”
“To work. Where else would we go on a Monday morning?”
“You want me to start today? I thought I’d have time to rest after that awful bus trip.”
“Hmph. I guess we need to go over the terms of this arrangement. One, you don’t get to lie around here and do nothing like some sloth. Two, you will work, starting today.”
He’s holding his hand out in front of him, counting off his fingers like some disgruntled teacher I’ve pissed off in the classroom. I’m surprised I remember what that feels like seeing how I didn’t go to school past the eighth grade.
