27 Lies

by Mj Fields

  Ava stands in front of me. “He’s taking a bath.” Then she grabs my hand, shocking me by putting it on her tit and squeezing. “Feel that lump?”

  I do feel it, as well as panic and worry. I need to make it okay for her.

  “Okay, okay. So we can get through this, too. Maybe next year will be hard, but not as hard as last year. Swear to God, Ava, it’s fine, okay?”

  Tears fill her eyes, and I pull my hand back and hug her.

  “I love you.”

  “I...” she starts, and I know she wants to say it back. Finally, she is going to say what I already know.

  Then we are interrupted by a laughing, “Dadadadada.”

  “Did you hear that?” Ava beams, stepping away from me and toward him.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” I smile as I watch her act like nothing is wrong when there is something wrong, something is horribly wrong.

  “Say it again, Chance.” She smiles at him.

  “Luke,” Liam says, and I look at him. He laughs. “She’s got mastitis, not cancer.”

  “Mas-what?”

  “She has an infection in her breast. It’s painful, but she’s fine. And by the way, cows get it, too.” He stares at me, waiting for an apology.

  I nod. I can’t apologize, not when his hand was just full of her tit. Instead, I give him what I can.

  “Thank you.”

  “Dadadada,” Chance babbles, and I lean down and smile while he bounces up and down.

  “Chance, Chance, Chance, Chance,” I say as I laugh, and Ava laughs.

  I hear Liam sigh. “I’m going to head out, but Ava, don’t wait. Get to a doctor. And Luke?”

  I look up at him.

  “She got this because she didn’t pump when her kids were not where they should have been.”

  “Okay, Liam.” Ava laughs, picking Chance up out of the bath and wrapping him in the towel. “Thank you.” She walks over then hugs him and kisses him quickly on the cheek. “Thank you, love you, and see you later, maybe?”

  “Make it happen,” he tells her. “I have a gift for my god-kids.”

  “God-kids?” I ask Ava.

  She laughs and shakes her head.

  Fucking woman makes me crazy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I believe you. - M. Migliaccio

  AVA

  I leave, giving Logan, Dad, and Jade a list of instructions on how to take care of my babies while I go to the damn doctors because my boobs are on fire.

  When I walk out to get in the car, Luke is standing by his truck. “Let me take you.”

  I take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. I’m nervous, and I shouldn’t be. It’s Luke Lane.

  He opens the door, and I get in. Then he shuts it behind me and climbs in the driver’s side seconds later.

  Once out of the driveway, he looks over. “So your—”

  “Boobs hurt,” I finish, rolling my eyes.

  “And it’s my fault because I took the kids,” he says with regret in his voice.

  Now, I could play this up. I could, and a year ago, I would have.

  “I should have pumped,” I admit.

  “But you were upset and...angry.”

  “Sure was,” I answer, wondering if he is just making conversation, or if he possibly heard me losing my mind that night.

  “I heard,” he admits, confirming that he is as crazy as I am if he thinks he wants to be with me, or whatever it is he is thinking. I have no idea.

  “Yeah, well...” I shrug.

  “I won’t do it again.”

  I nod and look out the window.

  “I won’t because we’re gonna be together.”

  “Not because of the kids,” I tell him, looking over at him. “I won’t do that to you, to them.” Finally, it dawns on me. “Or to me, Luke. I can’t go through that again, and I can’t make you settle.”

  “Settle?” He laughs. “Have you not heard a damn word I’ve been saying for almost three weeks now?”

  “I heard. Hell, I’ve seen. But it doesn’t mean—”

  “Ava, shut your damn mouth and listen to me.”

  I shut my damn mouth, and I wait.

  “Fuck it. Here.” He reaches under the seat and hands me a journal. “This is all the lies I’ve told you for eight years now—more than eight years. You and T have all those things about love, but not the real shit. I mean, it’s real, but that’s flowery and dreamy, and I don’t deal in that. I deal in reality. We sort out our lies, pull them out of the shadows, shine some light on them, and there’s the truth. Then we fucking live, and we love and, goddammit, we’re happy.”

  I swallow down everything I feel right now because I want to deal in his realities. I want to so badly.

  Page 1

  I lied when I said I wanted to protect you from the people who hurt your feelings growing up. I didn’t want to—I needed to.

  Page 2

  I lied when I told you that you should take off the tutu and crown so people would take you more seriously. The crown and tutu would never outshine your eyes that told the world you were all feelings and emotions.

  Page 3

  I lied when I agreed to pick you first every time. Remington told me I was picking you because I thought you were pretty, so I picked you second so I didn’t get embarrassed, because yeah, I thought you were pretty.

  Page 4

  I lied when I told you the brownies you made for the bake sale at church were the best. They sucked, Ava. They sucked really bad. But I made Mom buy them all so no one else ate them and told you how bad they sucked.

  Page 5

  I lied when I told you it was my rock that broke Grandpa Jack’s windshield because you were gonna cry, and I didn’t want you to cry. It was your rock. I am a much better shot than you.

  Page 6

  I lied when I told you that you didn’t look funny with braces on. You did. Everyone does. Sorry, Ava, but you looked funny with braces on.

  Page 7

  I lied to myself when I tried to keep my distance when you were...growing. I didn’t think I needed you hanging around because I thought I needed everyone else. Look at us now. It is and always will be you who I need.

  Page 8

  I lied when I told you I didn’t tell Sam Jennings to stay away from you because I would kill him if he didn’t. I did. Still would.

  Page 9

  I lied when I told you Bella ran away because she found her cat family. She was squashed, flattened, run over by a semi on the road. Don’t be upset; she’s in kitty heaven.

  Page 10

  I lied about kitty heaven just now. There is no kitty heaven. I won’t lie again.

  Page 11

  I lied again. Probably will a hundred more times just so I don’t see you cry or get upset. Sorry in advance.

  Page 12

  I lied when I said I didn’t know who I was and needed to find out. I have always been yours.

  Page 13

  I lied when I told you that you’d be smart to leave when you told me you wanted me. It was really fucking stupid seeing where we are today.

  Page 14

  I lied when I told myself it was okay for you to be fucking others when I wasn’t home. It wasn’t and never will be again.

  Page 15

  I lied to my team about who Miss A was who was sending all those letters. I told them you were just a piece of ass at home. You were the only piece of ass at home.

  Page 16

  I lied to my team when I told them I was not jerking off when I disappeared into the bathroom on mail day. I was, and it was your fault. The pictures, the letters, the thought that you were still wanting me...so fucking hot.

  Page 17

  I lied when I boarded the plane every damn time, telling myself I wasn’t going to keep fucking you, especially after seeing you on social media with other men.

  Page 18

  I lied to myself when I fucked anyone other than you, pretending they were you. They never were. No one ever could be.
>
  Page 19

  I lied when I said all that horrible shit to you last year. Your pussy is NOT like all the others. Yours is the one I want to be buried in forever. (And no, that’s not a lie. BEST I EVER HAD.)

  Page 20

  I lied when I said it was your fault we were always in such a hurry when we fucked. It was mine, too. I just needed to feel you around me, wet and ready, for me.

  Page 21

  I lied when I told you what’s done is done after you and T spent the night together. I was amping up for a fight, trying to talk myself out of it.

  Page 22

  I lied when I told you good luck with him. I would have rather shoved you in my vehicle and taken you away.

  Page 23

  I lied when I told you congratulations on your engagement. There is only one engagement I will ever congratulate you for.

  Page 24

  I lied when I told myself he didn’t love you and didn’t deserve you.

  Page 25

  I lied when I said you were a bitch. I was the bitch. I knew by how you reacted to me at home that you were hiding something. I wasn’t ready then. I needed to be stronger for you.

  Page 26

  I lie every time I say I love you as if it should mean everything to you. I don’t just love you. I want you. I want you on my team, by my side, over me, above me, all around me.

  Page 27

  I lied when I said I would be patient. I’m not patient. Not when it comes to you. You’re going to marry me, Ava. Maybe not right away, maybe not for a year, but you will. And you will never regret it.

  I sit back and hold the book to my chest. I both laughed and cried reading it. I can’t look at him, though. Not yet.

  “You need to try to be a little more patient with me,” I tell him.

  He laughs. “Uh-huh.”

  ***

  Before dinner, I sat next to Luke as he called Killshot’s wife and kids. He told her he was sorry he hasn’t visited yet. He plans to, when everyone here is healed. She seemed to understand.

  He told her about me, but he called me Miss A, and he told her he was a father. I heard her say she was proud of him, and she knew her husband would be, too.

  When he got off the phone, he just sat there, looking down. It hurt me to see him hurt, and I think I finally understand now why he never committed to me. He couldn’t.

  I know Luke Lane better than anyone—he even told me so. He said he couldn’t have him if he had me. I know that is true. For years, he saw the price love pays in war, and he didn’t want to hurt me by leaving me.

  After dinner with my family and his, Luke and I went to church. I refused, but he made me. We didn’t go to the one in our hometown, but the one half an hour away. There, we sat and watched the choir, him holding Hope, and me holding Chance, our pinkies linked.

  As we were driving home, he held my hand, his thumb stroking my hand slowly, not hurriedly.

  “We need to figure out how to be with all of them around, or we need to get the hell out of here.”

  I look over, expecting him to be joking, but he’s not.

  “If I asked you to move away with me, would you trust me enough to pack everything up and go? Would you start over with me, Ava?”

  I think about it—really think about it. With T, I wanted to be home where we could raise our children. I wanted him and our children to be surrounded by everyone I loved so he could see what a true family is. But I gave in to his need to have me, and me alone.

  Do I feel the same way about Luke?

  “I would,” I answer assuredly.

  “Would you be okay with our kids being raised around other people’s kids; people we don’t know?”

  The way he asks leads me to believe he wouldn’t, so I ask, “Would you?”

  “If that’s what you want, if that’s what keeps you from worrying about what everyone else thinks, then yes, I will.”

  I stay quiet. In his statement is a cold hard truth about me.

  “Don’t get upset, blue eyes. I went through it, too. Just see what’s really important now. Hope you’ll get there soon. Only reason I saw it was because you helped me. You saw who I was. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you see the same.”

  He pulls down a dirt road and puts the truck in park. The headlights shine on a field that is high up on a hill. The perimeter is surrounded by tall pines, except the side straight ahead. It’s open and has the most spectacular view of Cayuga Lake. And the snow is falling down hard, dancing in the light, waving at us in greeting, not good-bye.

  “Bought this about four years ago. Far enough from home for you?” he asks, turning his body so he is facing me.

  I don’t say anything for several moments. I just take in the view.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Place to escape. We build a home here, we’re twenty miles away from all the love and chaos. We build a cabin here, then we have an escape. You choose. Not now, of course. Just think about it.”

  “You said you would never plant roots here, Luke. Why did you say that if you bought this place?”

  He sighs, then shrugs, then laughs. “You work on accepting how fucking amazing you are, and then help me stop being such a damn liar.”

  I smile, then laugh, and then I kiss him.

  ***

  Christmas morning—well, four in the morning when the babies wake up for a feeding—Luke rolls over and kisses me. He kisses me soft, and slow, and unhurried, the same way he made love to me earlier.

  He was the same Luke Lane he was a year ago. He fucked like it was his job, and God, he was good at his job, especially when he wasn’t in a hurry.

  “Let’s you, me, and the kids do our Christmas before the troops arrive.” He gets up, completely naked, gloriously naked. Then I feel him still.

  He looks back when I don’t get up right away and smirks then shakes his head.

  “What?” I ask as I sit up.

  “I’m better.”

  “Better?”

  “In bed.”

  He is so damn arrogant, but he’s not wrong. He gives, but he takes. He’s gentle, but then he wrecks me. He’s controlling, and then...Yeah, no, he’s controlling, and I like it.

  “Not sure. You’ll have to show me again,” I tease.

  He shakes his head and smiles. “Anytime, anyplace.”

  ***

  Babies first Christmas are...basically for the parents. We open their gifts and show them to them. They are amused with a box and the paper, and it’s on to the next.

  Luke reaches as far back as he can under the tree and pulls out three boxes before putting them in front of me. One’s for Hope, one’s for Chance, and one’s for me.

  “All I got you was an ornament,” I tell him.

  “You have no idea what that means to me. It’s perfect, Ava, perfect.”

  He pushes the long rectangular one at me. It has Chance’s name on it.

  When I open it, I look up at him as I pull out the drumsticks, getting caught up in the moment.

  “Figured I should share a piece of him with my son,” he says like it’s no big deal.

  “Thank you. Thank you.” I lean forward and kiss him.

  When I sit back, he points to Hope’s. It’s a little square box.

  I open it and gasp, “It’s beautiful.”

  I take the crown out and examine it. Then I put it on her head, and of course she is all hands, trying to grab it.

  He laughs. “She’s too young yet to wear it, but it doesn’t make it not so. She’s Daddy’s little princess and has the crown to prove it.” He then points to mine. It’s a very small square box.

  “Can I be honest with you right now?” I ask.

  “Want nothing but.”

  “I’m not ready for this. Maybe in a year, maybe two, when all the shock and awe of them has worn off. Maybe that’s when you should—”

  “Open the gift, blue eyes.” He winks.

  I open it nervously, and when I finally allow myse
lf to look at it, I see a heart made of hands, a crown, and the big, dark blue sapphire in the middle.

  “It means—”

  “Friendship, love, and loyalty.” I laugh and cry as I hug him.

  “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything,” I promise.

  “Trust that I know what you need.”

  “You haven’t always,” I joke.

  “Things are different now. I’m in no hurry, Ava. Not now, not ever again.”

  EPILOGUE

  LUKE

  These past five months have flown by. I am almost one hundred percent healed, and plan to work with my dad, Ryan. I want to be part of what he built for me, his son, and his other children. No, I won’t be a soldier anymore, and I will never be a rock star; I will be me, Luke Lane, lover of Ava Links, father to Hope and Chance, son, brother, nephew, grandson, godson, and a man who works with his hands every day, making the world a better place, one family home at a time.

  Our cabin was first. Our home will be next.

  Today is unseasonably warm for May, and it’s a good thing since we are hosting one-year-olds birthday party as soon as we get this “Out of the way,” as Ava says.

  Who would have thought that a little girl who wore a tutu and a crown everywhere would want to have a wedding in the middle of a field with just our kids and immediate family? Not this guy. But I’m happy as hell she is finally seeing she doesn’t have to make it—meaning her life—about serving everyone around her a slice of happiness while she sits in the background, waiting for the next reason to drive herself crazy with needing to be...needed.

  I can assure you that she knows how much I need her...every goddamned day.

  Logan is standing in front of us, holding a Bible. Mom insisted one part of this be traditional, so Ava caved of course.

  After the “Love is patient, love is kind” spiel, I look at Ava.

  “Love me forever?” I ask.

  “Dadadada,” Hope jabbers as she pulls herself up my leg.

  I look down at her, wearing her tutu and crown, blonde curls blowing in the breeze, blue eyes shining, and her grinning. “Give me a second, Princess. I’m trying to make your mom a queen.”

  “I do,” Ava says with a laugh, then asks, “Get me knocked up once a year whether I want it or not?”