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Risk and Reward

Page 15

by Rachael Duncan


  I shake my head. “No, I threw it away.”

  “If he leaves anything else for you, make sure to put it in a bag and keep it. Stalking cases can be hard to prove, so any piece of evidence is in your favor.”

  A chill runs up my spin, causing me to shiver. Stalking? I understand what’s going on is serious, but when it gets labeled, it feels like I’m being smacked in the face with it. It’s terrifying.

  “Anything else you can think of that I need to know?” he asks. I shake my head. “Okay, unfortunately, you can’t take anything out of here at the moment, not until we’re done. But you can leave if you want and I’ll call when you can get back in here.”

  “Are you going to tell Lydia?”

  He studies me for a second. “Do you want me to?”

  I shake my head. It’s bad enough Marcus and Nate know what happened to me, I don’t want anyone else to find out. Even though she’s one of my best friends, I don’t want her to view me differently. I don’t want her to give me the same sympathetic look I catch Marcus throwing my way.

  “Okay, then I won’t say anything.”

  I let out a breath as my shoulders slump forward. “Thank you.” He nods in response.

  “We’ll get him.” It comes off as more of a promise than an empty statement. If anyone understands what this feels like, it’s him after what he and Lydia went through with his ex.

  As we’re walking out a few more officers are walking up the stairs. “Is this your residence, ma’am?”

  “Was,” Nate corrects. “Officer Riley has taken her statement already and excused us.”

  The first one nods his head. “Okay, if there’s anything else we need, we’ll be in touch.”

  The car ride home is quiet, both of us locked in our own thoughts. I can’t quit wondering what Nate thinks of me now that he knows what happened. Chancing a glance in his direction, the tension throughout his body is more than obvious. It’s in his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, or the way his chiseled jaw flexes as his teeth grind together. But behind the hard exterior he’s putting off is a vulnerability so deep, it can’t be ignored. The lines around his eyes give way to torment, his breaths labored as he works to simmer it down. I feel sick to my stomach as I watch him work through his emotions, knowing there isn’t much I can do to make this better.

  “Are you mad at me for lying?” Even though my voice is soft, it’s deafening in the quiet space.

  He inhales deeply through his nose. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. If I had been the husband you deserved, none of this would be happening right now.”

  My heart breaks as he attempts to shoulder the burden another man placed on us. “Don’t.” My tone is firm, surprising even me. “This isn’t your fault.” He doesn’t say a word, but by the increasing tension in his body, I know he’s not convinced.

  We pull up to the driveway and he makes no move to get out. “Are you coming?”

  “Yeah, I just need a second.” His voice is tight and I want to help him work out whatever is going through his mind. I know what it’s like to struggle to process your emotions when they’re driving you in several directions. Without another word, I walk into the house to give him a moment alone.

  It feels like an hour when in reality it was more like five minutes, but Nate finally comes into the house. Walking up to me, he stares down into my brown eyes. “What do you need from me?”

  My eyes narrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to take away your pain. Tell me how to make it better.” I hate the tortured look on his face as he continues to blame himself for what’s happening.

  “You already are,” I tell him. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss him. It’s slow and unhurried, but communicates more between us than we’re able to with words. His large hands cup my face and hold me to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he says against my lips. I respond by deepening the kiss. There’s no reason for him to be sorry, but telling him that won’t remove the guilt he is experiencing.

  His tongue sweeps across my lips, and I open them to let him in. It’s not long before our tongues are in a war of passion and need. My fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt as I undo them. I need the touch of his skin against mine and to reconnect in ways we haven’t in a while. He walks me to the couch as I set about my task. As soon as I have his shirt completely open, my hands slide over his pecs and down his firm abs, his muscles twitching beneath my touch. He hasn’t done anything to me yet and I am already more at peace, able to let go of all the stress if only for this moment. I know as long as I’m with him and in his arms, I’m safe. While my body is on fire with want and desire, my heart is full with love and security.

  Gently laying me down, he shrugs his shirt off to expose his broad shoulders and toned arms. My eyes trail down the length of his torso until they land on the obvious bulge inside his pants. I bite my lip in anticipation as he leans on top of me, careful to support his own weight.

  He kisses the spot below my jawline that drives me insane before moving slowly down my neck. As his mouth moves down, his hand travels north beneath my shirt. Goose bumps spring to life as he grazes my side before landing on my breast. His touch is a balm to my psyche, letting me know he’s in this with me. We’re in this together.

  My back arches, thrusting my breast into his palm. A groan vibrates in the back of his throat as he pinches my nipple, eliciting a sigh from me.

  He pulls his lips away from my skin and stares deep into my eyes, into my soul. “I love you,” he declares, and I know he means it.

  “I love you, too.”

  His full lips meet mine again in a gentle display of love and adoration. My heart pounds for him as I wait for him to give me more. Ever so slowly, his hand moves down until it sneaks beneath the waistband of my pants.

  “No panties?” he asks, a darkened look in his eyes.

  I give him a coy smile. “It’s what I forgot at my apartment.”

  He growls before sitting up to rid me of my clothes. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not taking them off fast enough, so I sit up to help him along. “Eager are we?” he asks, mirth in his voice.

  “We have time for foreplay later. I need you now.” I try not to sound too desperate, but realize I fail miserably. We need this in not just the physical sense, but emotionally too, showing each other what words aren’t adequate enough to convey. As I wait for him to unite us in the most intimate of ways, my heart soars, knowing the fall into ecstasy will be perfect.

  Taking the hint, he stands to divest himself of his pants before leaning on top of me again. He pauses at my entrance and my core throbs with need.

  “Look at me,” he says gently.

  When I do, everything I need is staring back down at me. Reassurance, devotion, commitment, protection, but most importantly love. With our eyes fixed on each other, he enters me slowly, letting my body stretch to accommodate every inch of him.

  No matter how good it feels as he begins to move in and out of me, I keep my eyes open and gaze up at my life partner. Our reconnection solidifies what I should’ve known all along; I belong with Nate. As pleasure builds, our eyes are locked, healing old wounds while soothing new pain.

  The one man put on this planet to complete me.

  The one man who I know will move mountains to make me happy and give his life to keep me safe.

  The one man I can’t live without, but was stupid enough to walk away from.

  “You with me?” he asks, his voice strained and I can tell he’s close.

  “Yes.”

  With unhurried strokes, he builds me to the top of the peak before making me crash down.

  “Eyes on me, my love.”

  When I open them, the beginning waves of my orgasm are intensified as he holds my gaze. It may be the most intimate moment of my life as he watches me moan out in pleasure while my orgasm magnifies. My fingers dig into his shoulders as my legs clamp around him. A scream is ripped from me as the wave of plea
sure continues. Nate’s muscles tremble beneath my hands as he keeps an even rhythm, letting me experience every ounce of pleasure. When I see stars and can hardly breathe, he picks up the pace, slamming into me a little harder than before. With five more thrusts, he’s falling off of his own cliff, meeting me at the bottom.

  Our hearts beat erratically together as we come off of our high. Several minutes pass before he sits up and looks down at me. Despite having the most intense orgasm of our lives, he still looks tormented. He’s trying to hide it, but it lurks still.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’m scared I’ll let you down again.” The rawness in his voice goes straight to my heart.

  “This is our new start,” I tell him. “Nothing in the past matters and we only look toward the future.”

  “It’s that easy, huh?” The doubt in his words is hard to miss.

  “No, but it’s what we have, so let’s take advantage. I know things aren’t ideal right now, but here’s our second chance. Let’s not ruin it with regrets from a past we can’t change. All we have control of is our future, and there’s no room for guilt, regret, or pain if we’re going to make this work.”

  He stares at me, mulling over what I’ve said. “You have to be open with me, Charlotte. I have no way of knowing if I’m hurting you or if I’ve done something wrong unless you talk to me. You internalize everything until it gets to a point where you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too late at that point; you need to talk to me before that happens. If I’m zoned out or not listening, smack me upside the head; get my attention. Anything so we don’t have to go back to where we were while you were gone, okay?”

  “I can do that,” I promise, because I know he’s right. When I left, I put the failures of our marriage squarely on his shoulders, but that wasn’t fair or accurate. We were both to blame, and I’m glad I realized it before our relationship was unsalvageable.

  With his hands on either side of my head, he lowers himself down to my lips. “To our future, then.” He gives me a kiss that ends way too soon before saying, “And our immediate future includes lots more of this. I plan on rechristening every room in this house before this night is over.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” I reply with a smirk.

  “Do you doubt me?” The challenging gleam in his eyes has me ready for round two.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I taunt.

  In a flash he’s throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me upstairs. “First stop, the bedroom.”

  I QUIT MY job four weeks ago after explaining the situation to management. I hated leaving them hanging with no notice, but I wouldn’t be productive constantly looking over my shoulder anyway. While it feels like I’ve slid back into the role that led to my misery, I know that’s not the case. Between Nate being home more and our lines of communication open, it’s completely different this time around. However, having a job has shown me I’d rather do something with my day than sit at home all the time. So I’ve mentioned exploring my options and going back to school to Nate, and he’s totally supportive.

  I couldn’t be happier with Nate’s new work schedule. He’s home for dinner every night and seems to have less on his mind. While there are other pressures involved with his new position, I can see a visible weight lifted from his shoulders. I have my husband back again.

  We laugh, talk, and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. I’m falling for him all over again and loving every minute of it.

  Marcus gave us the okay to get my things out of my old apartment a few days after the incident happened. Because it was all destroyed, most of it went into the dumpster. Seeing my things shredded and thrown around was hard to stomach. The only way I got through it was having Nate’s strength to guide me. He was with me every step of the way, picking me up when the only thing I wanted to do was lie in a ball.

  There are no updates on Ethan’s whereabouts, which scares me even though we haven’t heard anything from him in a month. The apartment complex hasn’t seen him around and he’s failed to pay rent. Nate suggested he might have run off after breaking into my apartment to keep from getting caught, but I have my doubts it’s that simple of an explanation.

  I didn’t want to keep more from the girls, so after Nate and I cleaned up the apartment and officially moved me out, I met the girls over at Lydia’s. I swear they’re going to be suspicious every time I want to get together. Seems as though whenever we hang out I have some life altering news to tell them. The three of them are worried about me, which is why I was hesitant to tell them to begin with. Lydia sat there frozen in her spot. I know this hits close to home, similarities of her own past coming back to her. They made me promise I wouldn’t keep things like this to myself anymore and lean on them to get through it. I felt bad agreeing considering I hadn’t told them everything, but the fewer people who are aware of what’s going on, the better.

  Despite the quiet chaos, I’ve tried really hard not to let it affect my day-to-day life. The way I see it, if I’m living in fear, he wins and I lose.

  “Good morning, my love,” Nate says as he kisses my cheek. For once, I was up before him, so I took the opportunity to watch the sun rise in the sitting room.

  “Good morning. Your coffee is in the kitchen.”

  He smiles his silent thank you. After he retrieves his cup, he comes back to join me, nudging my leg with his knee as he stands next to the chair. With an exaggerated roll of my eyes, I stand up and let him have a seat before he guides me back onto his lap.

  “Quit with the attitude,” he says into my ear. Goose bumps roll down my neck and the rest of my body. He knows what that does to me. “You know you like sitting on my lap.” He thrusts his pelvis up into me a couple times, earning a swat in the chest from me.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “For you? Always,” he says over the rim of his cup. I shake my head, a silly grin transforming my face. “What’s on your agenda today?” he asks.

  “I have to go to the gyno this afternoon.” It’s hard to hide the dread in my voice.

  “What for?”

  “Just going for my yearly tune-up, and a refill on my pills.” I look at him with a watchful eye as I say the last part. I kept this from him before, so I’m not sure how he’ll react now that I’m open about it.

  He nods slowly. “What time is your appointment?”

  “Twelve thirty,” I reply.

  He grimaces. “I’ve got a meeting at noon so I can’t come with you. Can one of your friends go?”

  I stare at him and blink several times, waiting for him to crack a smile or say he’s joking. He doesn’t. “Babe, I haven’t left the house at all by myself yet. I don’t need a babysitter. You can’t keep me locked away in my ivory tower.” I run my hand through his hair.

  “You know I worry, and he—”

  “Hasn’t bothered us in a month,” I say, cutting him off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

  With a huff he shows his displeasure, but agrees anyway.

  I hate this. I swear women got the short end of the stick in the plumbing department with all this spreading, prodding, and swabbing.

  The nurse begins the intake process, checking my vitals and asking about my general health. “Do you need a refill on your birth control today?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  She clicks a few buttons and asks, “When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?”

  I should start marking this on the calendar when I know I’m coming here. It never fails, every time I have a problem recalling. I stare up at the ceiling as I try to give an estimate, but the more I think about it the worse my memory gets. Shit, I don’t think I’ve had my period since I moved out of my apartment.

  I shake my head. “I don’t remember exactly, but it might have been a while.”

  She looks up at me. “It’s okay, but we’ll need to give you a pregnancy test before we can give you a refill.” I nod, my mind in a haze as all
those negative tests rush through my mind.

  A few minutes later, I’m given a cup to pee in and a reassuring smile. I’m on autopilot as I do as instructed and wait for the nurse to come back in with the results.

  I get antsy waiting for the nurse to come in. This appointment is taking longer than it should, and I have errands I need to run. Right when I’m ready to walk into the hallway and find her myself, there’s a knock on the door before it opens.

  “I have your pregnancy results,” my doctor says.

  “Negative,” I say for her when she pauses.

  “It’s positive. You’re pregnant.” With a wide smile she says, “Congratulations.”

  My heart stops beating. I’m stunned and frozen, unable to speak, breathe, or even blink. “W-what did you say?” I whisper.

  “You’re going to have a baby.” The same joy from before beams down at me.

  “How is that p-possible? I never missed a pill,” I tell her. Doubt and confusion hold my elation hostage, waiting for the shoe to drop and the disappointment to follow. All those years and all those tests, just waiting on one to say positive. Now we’re actually preventing and it comes up positive?

  “The only thing that is one-hundred percent effective is abstinence. The pill is only ninety-nine percent effective, so it looks like you fell into that one percent,” she explains.

  I’m still in disbelief. I waited—prayed—to hear these words, but they never came. “But we tried for months and months and weren’t successful.”

  Her excitement turns to compassion as she rests her hand on my knee. “It wasn’t meant to be then.”

  Finally, I let the news wash over me. “I’m going to be a mom,” I croak out. My hand comes up to my mouth as tears fill my eyes.

  “Yes, you are,” she says gently.

  She sets me up for an ultrasound to see how far along I am since I can’t remember my last period. I’m so bummed Nate is missing this, but in awe as I watch her find my baby. She inserts a probe-like instrument inside me since I’m probably too early to see the baby from a regular ultrasound.

 

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