Fighting to Forget

by Jenika Snow

  She looked up at his face, and the emotion in her expression was raw, unhinged.

  “I want to tell you something, because I believe in honesty, too.” She looked down, licked her lips, and pulled her hand away from his.

  He let her take this time to herself, didn’t rush her, pressure her, or try to get the conversation moving along. This was hard for her. Hell, it had been hard for him to talk about what happened, and he’d give her all the space and time she needed.

  “When I was seventeen I had a relationship with a man much older than me, a man that I shouldn’t have done anything with because of who he was.”

  He didn’t say anything, just let her take this breather before she continued.

  “He was my teacher in high school, would ask me to stay after class so he could help me with my studies, and, well,” she lifted her gaze to his, “one thing led to another.”

  She didn’t need to elaborate what she meant, clearly. “He took advantage of you,” Larson said, feeling anger that some man had controlled this young woman and taken something from her that she wasn’t mature enough to give.

  “He didn’t, but others said that. My parents said that.” She inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. “I knew what I was doing. I was seventeen, and you and I know that’s not a child, not really.”

  He didn’t argue the point with her, because if he had a daughter and that happened to her Larson would have felt like it was rape in every way. “How old was he?”

  “Thirty,” she said without hesitation.

  “He took advantage of you,” he said again, harder this time.

  She shrugged. “It happened regardless, and…” She stopped, and he had a feeling whatever she was about to say was what they were really talking about. “I got pregnant.”

  There was this long silence between them. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort her. Hell, he didn’t even think she would welcome comfort at this moment, not by the way she kept twisting her fingers together and bouncing her feet on the floor.

  “I grew up going to church every Sunday, my parents instilling in me that I needed to save my virginity until I was married because that’s what God wanted for me. Being with him meant I was a slut, disgracing them, their name, and the church.”

  He hated that she was so upset right now, her voice shaking, her fear and pain evident.

  “School was almost out, but I left before I was showing, got my GED, had the baby, and gave him up for adoption.” She kept twisting her fingers together. “But it was better for him. He got the life I’d never have been able to give him.”

  He pulled her onto his lap, not about to have her deal with this alone. “I’m so sorry. Have you seen him? Your child I mean?” He didn’t know how to ask the question, or if he even should ask it.

  “He’s not my child, hasn’t been from the moment I gave him up.”

  “That’s not true,” he said and pulled her back so he could look in her face. “In here,” he placed his hand on her chest, “he will always be yours.”

  She smiled, her tears slipping down her cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed them away, tasted the saltiness of her pain and sadness, and pulled her in for a hug. She rested her head on his chest.

  “I feel like I should be the one to be comforting you. Your life, and what you lost, is so much more painful than mine.”

  He shook his head. “Your pain is just as hard, just as real. I’ve never dealt with losing a child, and although your son is still alive, it’s still painful for you, still a loss, and that shouldn’t be disregarded.” He ran his hand up and down her back.

  “I’m sorry about your wife, Larson.”

  “Thank you, baby, and I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” He felt closer to her after sharing these things and hearing her past. “Did you tell your teacher about the baby?” He didn’t know if it was okay to even talk about this.

  “I did, and he accused me that it wasn’t his, and if I told anyone both of our lives would be ruined.” She was playing with the edge of his shirt now, running her fingers back and forth over the material, but having calmed down a bit.

  “But nothing happened to him?” It would seriously piss him off if that asshole didn’t have any kind of punishment or shame over what he did with Tasha.

  She shrugged. “He stayed for the rest of the year, but it really was such a short time left in the year. I could tell he was worried I’d talk. He ended up resigning, and last I heard, which was years ago, was that he moved out of Absinthe and was working at a different school.” She gave a humorless chuckle. “He probably screwed one of his students there, too.” She looked at him then. “I haven’t had contact with him, and don’t plan on it. That was a different time in my life, and I’m glad it’s over with concerning him.”

  He continued to hold her, and it was a peace that filled him with the contact. After a long silence he sensed her asleep against him, her breathing even, steady, and he liked that she trusted him, and that he felt the comfort to trust her with the darkest part of his life. She was his world, his life now, and there wasn’t going to be anyone or anything, not even his nightmares, that would stop him from loving this woman.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Larson pulled up to the cemetery that was about a half hour away from where he currently lived. After all the shit that had happened he’d moved out of that house he’d shared with Melanie, but couldn’t bring himself to leave Absinthe. He loved this city, had grown up here, and a part of him had felt leaving would have been like he didn’t care. But that changed, and although he was moving on with Tasha, he also wanted to stay here and create a new life with her.

  He got out of his truck, but turned and grabbed the flowers he’d brought for Melanie’s grave off the passenger’s seat. The cemetery was small, intimate, and most of the residents of Absinthe weren’t buried here. This was an older plot of land, with generations of families that were buried beside each other.

  Melanie’s mother and father were laid to rest here, and this had been her wish before she passed and they’d talked about the grim stuff. But he was glad he could give her this one last request. As he made his way around the headstones, past the large trees that provided shade to the numerous gravesites around him, he finally stopped in front of hers.

  There were dried flowers tipped over in the plastic vase, but he hadn’t brought them. He hadn’t been to her site in a while. There were people, a social community in Absinthe made up of elderly women that brought flowers to the gravesites. It was a nice gesture, but also very sad.

  The headstone was a marker for death, a reminder that life was not infinite.

  He sat down, braced his knees on the hard ground, and set the bouquet of flowers right in front of her headstone. In the beginning he’d come here every day, let his anger and sadness morph into one, and had cried his rage out. But he was ready to move on, and that was why he’d come here today, why he’d told himself that he couldn’t live in the past any longer.

  Melanie Elizabeth Ireland

  Beloved and cherished Wife, Daughter, and Sister

  The dates below her name were also damn depressing. She’d been so young, so damn young that she’d had her whole life ahead of her. He traced the engraving, breathed out, and finally relaxed.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been by. It’s been a long time, Melanie, and I’ve held in a lot of rage these past years.” He heard a chirp right above him, looked into the tree, and saw a brightly colored bird staring down at him. It chirped again before flying off. He looked at the headstone again. “It’s time for me to go, to move on.” A gust of wind whistled past him, rustling the tree branches and sending a chill through his spine despite the heat. Tilting his head to the sky, he watched the clouds move slowly above him.

  It had taken him all this time to realize that he didn’t have to feel these kinds of emotions, that if the right person came along he could start over. “I’ve met someone, a woman that I think you’d like.” He smil
ed as he thought of Tasha. “She’s sweet and kind, and I love her, Mel. Dammit, I love her so much.” There had been a part of him, in the beginning when he first felt things for Tasha that had him experiencing guilt. “I feel so happy with her. She makes the pain and darkness go away, and I want to have a life with her.”

  He breathed out once more, looked around the cemetery that seemed so calm right at this moment, and smiled. Melanie would have wanted him to move on, to find happiness again. They had certainly talked about it during their marriage, and if he’d died before she had then he’d want her to find someone that made her feel whole again.

  “This is goodbye, but I will never forget.”

  She wouldn’t have wanted him to keep the pain inside until it ate at him from the inside out. And he was going to start finally allowing himself to let the light in, to let the light that Tasha brought with her inside of his heart. Because he knew that she was the one person, the only person that had brought him back from the ledge.

  ****

  One year later

  Larson stared at Tasha as she cursed. She was cooking for him, and although she said she wasn’t best chef, he knew that no matter what she made—or burnt, he’d love every bite. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “I didn’t think it was possible, but I burnt the spaghetti.” She turned fully around and held up the pot with the noodle. Taking the ladle in her hand, she scooped up a large chunk of the spaghetti, and he saw that it must have stuck to the bottom because it looked hard and was black. She tossed the pan on the stove, breathed out, then winced and held her stomach.

  He was up a second later and in front of her. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He covered her hand with his, felt their child kick wildly, and grinned.

  “She’s getting too big to be crammed in there.” Tasha laughed when their daughter kicked again and again.

  “Not much longer and we can hold her.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, then dropped to his haunches in front of her and pushed up her shirt. He stared at her big, round belly, and marveled at the thought that his child grew inside there. He was going to be a father, and God would he try to be the best dad he could.

  They’d moved in together shortly after they’d decided that they couldn’t be without each other. Having her here was the best thing for Larson. He felt like he was finally whole again, like he could allow himself to be loved and love in return.

  It had been a stressful year at times because he’d taken her to Melanie’s gravesite, when she’d asked. He hadn’t wanted to at first, but she said she wanted to know about the woman that had been in his life, and that he’d loved.

  Larson couldn’t deny it and say he wouldn’t have wanted to do the same if the roles had been reversed. Once he’d taken her to the cemetery they’d moved on, hadn’t spoken about his past or hers, and had fallen into this loving, fantastic, and incredible relationship.

  Now she was having his baby, and he couldn’t have been happier.

  She had gotten pregnant shortly after they’d moved in, but he couldn’t be happier because of that, and wanted a future with Tasha that was filled with a houseful of children. Although they weren’t married yet, he was letting her lead the way. When she was ready, he was ready.

  Tasha hadn’t put her life on hold, and was going after what she wanted, She was taking a few online classes, was nearing the end of the semester with them, and then she’d be able to relax with their child. If she wanted to continue with her school he’d support her, and if not, well, he’d support her in whatever she decided.

  This sadness crossed her face, and he stood and grabbed her shoulders. He knew why she was upset, or what she was thinking about. “Baby, they’ll come around. How could they not when you’re their daughter and you carry their grandchild?”

  “You remember how they acted when I brought you over, Larson.”

  He nodded once. Yeah, he remembered how her parents had looked at him like he was shit on their shoe, how they’d ignored him when he’d spoken. They’d been rude as hell. That one night months ago when they’d gone over to tell them the good news about the baby, her parents had started spouting off to Tasha how she’d ruined her life again because of a man.

  After the verbal abuse to their daughter Larson hadn’t been able to stand it. He’d taken Tasha out of there, away from people that had done nothing but cut her down instead of embracing her and the good news.

  “Honestly, and I feel like a total bitch, but I don’t care if they come around or not.” She rested her head on his chest, and he held her tightly. “I don’t care if they’re in my life or not, because they had their chance.” She pulled back and looked at his face. “They haven’t contacted us, haven’t tried to be in my life since I told them I was pregnant. It doesn’t matter because they have never made me feel like I could be happy.”

  “You make me happy, baby,”

  She smiled after he spoke. “And that’s why I don’t care about what they think anymore. For all these years they’ve done nothing but look at me like they wish I hadn’t been their daughter. But you make me feel like I could be happy without feeling guilt.”

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about.” He smoothed his hand over her cheek.

  “I don’t need that negativity in my life, and if they don’t want to be in my life, or our baby’s, that’s on them.” She smiled, and it was sweet and soft, and so damn genuine he felt his heart tug with emotion.

  He picked her up, cradled her in his arms, and she let out a little squeak of noise. Larson left the kitchen and into the living room where he sat down and rested her on his lap. He grabbed the remote, turned on the television, and just held her.

  “I love you so damn much.”

  She smoothed her hand over his chest. “And I love you. I always will.”

  It was what he wanted since he’d met, what he’d always dreamed he’d never have again. He rested his hand on her belly, felt their little daughter kick, and smiled. Yeah, he was content and happy, and he’d always make sure his woman was the same way. They both deserved this. Dammit, did they both deserve this, and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that.

  The End

  www.jenikasnow.com

  Other Books by Jenika Snow:

  www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/Jenika-Snow.html

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  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com