At the Risk of Forgetting

by A. M. Wilson

  “Fuck you, Law, of course I wouldn’t.”

  “Exactly.” He stared me down with determination in his eye. He took a step toward me, and I reciprocated with a step to the side. “Because deep down, you know. Your guilt for hurting me has clouded your judgment, but you know. If it were anybody else you cared about you’d be standing over here with me, instead of over there defending your side.”

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the wall. The thud sounded more painful than it felt. Soft footfalls approached me, and my lids shot open as I shuffled to the side. “You’re wrong.”

  Faster than I could react, he lunged and held me against the wall. His forehead hit my temple, and his lips brushed the shell of my ear. “No, you are. You are, Cami, my god, the most stubborn ass woman I’ve ever met, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are wrong.”

  His hands cupped the sides of my head. I stayed still.

  “Do you know what my first thought was when I read that letter? That my entire life, everything I’d known from the second you took off until the moment I found that envelope in a safety deposit box, had been a lie. You’re the only true thing in it. You’ve always been the one true thing. That’s how I know. What happened that day was on him. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

  He lifted and pressed a hard kiss to my forehead. The way he forced his lips away seemed painful, and I couldn’t understand why. Then I watched, still frozen against the wall, as he headed for the door.

  “Why does it take a letter from your father to suddenly forgive me?” I called to his retreating back, fading fast into the sadness that was threatening to envelop me. Why did we continue to play this game if it was never going to work out?

  His torso faced the door, but he turned his neck to look at me. “It doesn’t.” The determination I saw on his face slowed my racing heart. “The only reason I’d left town was because I needed some time to forgive myself. I’d forgiven you the second I dragged you from the room when your daughter’s heart stopped before your eyes and the love I’d witnessed from you was more powerful than anything I’d known in my entire life.”

  As Law was known to do, he walked away, leaving me speechless in my bedroom.

  Ten minutes later, I heard the front door open and voices filled inside. That was when I unstuck myself to find my daughter laughing with her Aunt K, something I hadn’t seen her do in weeks. I joined them to devour my own cup of Triple Chocolate Ganache. After that, I crawled alone into bed and cried until sleep took pity on me and whisked me away.

  ***

  Nothing but blackness filled the room when I was startled from a deep sleep. I threw a hand out to my nightstand to find my phone, clicked it on, and read the time. Five forty-five. Releasing my stomach muscles, I fell back onto the bed with a groan.

  My eyes began to drift closed when a pounding came at the front door. Loud and insistent, I realized sleepily that must have been what woke me up. I had one guess, that wasn’t even a guess, about who was at the door, and that thought made me want to bury my head back beneath the pillow and go to sleep.

  He was about to wake Evelyn, if he hadn’t already, and that made the momma bear in me pissed. She’d had enough nightmares since the accident messing with her sleep. Therefore, I shot him a text telling him to shut up and that I’d be there in a second.

  Not wanting him to see me in my silk robe again, I yanked on a pair of jeans, fuzzy socks, and pulled a knit sweater over my head. My hair was a hopeless case, so I tied it into a messy bun as I trudged down the hall.

  Something caught my eye as I neared the front door, a wide rectangle hanging from the peephole. As I got closer, I saw it was a piece of paper. I scanned it, curled it in my fist, and yanked open the door without first checking outside.

  “Are you responsible for this?” I grumbled at Law, referencing the note in my hand from Kiersten. Apparently, she and Evelyn snuck out early this morning for breakfast. She’s bat-shit crazy if she thinks I don’t know my own daughter and that dragging her out of bed, before ten, is a near impossible feat.

  Awaiting his answer, I stared at him, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight.

  The porch light bathed him in a glow, shadowing areas of his face that made his best features stand out. Like the gentle curve of his nose, and the dip between his nose and upper lip.

  With his eyes steady on mine, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and gave a sharp tug that sent me flying. In one fluid movement, he scooped me into his arms. He still hadn’t spoken a word when he reached around to lock my door and pulled it shut.

  “Law! What’re you doing?”

  “Quiet,” he murmured gently.

  “Law.”

  “Shush. The neighbors are sleeping.” The grin spreading across his face gave away his teasing disposition.

  My heart beat wildly in my chest. What was going on? I didn’t think he’d give me a straight answer, so I gripped his neck and held on.

  His truck waited in my driveway, a heavy looking tarp covering the bed. My interested was piqued, but not by much. He was a contractor, after all. He probably kept supplies in there he didn’t want left exposed to the elements.

  Law loaded me straight into his truck. The protest died on my lips when he lifted his head and his eyes caught mine. The gray/green color was darker than usual, and they were alert. He lifted his hand and ran the back of his knuckles over my cheek.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” The speed the word left my mouth didn’t surprise me, but Law’s body startled.

  He bit his lip. “Okay, then.”

  His fingertips grazed my hip as he reached for the seatbelt. Slowly, with purpose, he ran the metal tip over my abdomen on its way to the buckle. Butterflies raced in my stomach and a tingle erupted between my legs. He reached the other side and the audible click echoed in the truck.

  After quickly brushing a hair off my cheek, he slammed the door and got in his side, fired up the engine, and whisked me away.

  Law deflected my questions by ignoring me. He turned the radio up and dropped his hand to my thigh.

  Instead of pushing it, I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. Excitement kept me awake, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t tired at six in the morning. A coffee would have been a nice addition to this little excursion we were on.

  We drove for about twenty minutes, winding through town and exiting in the other direction on highway 31. The sky changed to hues of pink and purple with the impending sunrise drawing near. Excitement, nerves, and a hope I was too frightened to feel filled me at the same time. Something was up. I didn’t know what, and I was too scared to let myself feel anything good. As if he felt my unease, he gave my leg a comforting squeeze.

  The truck slowed and turned right onto an unmarked road. Trees whipped past the window as he drove across the bumpy earth. Through the windshield was nothing but snow, not an actual road. Up ahead, it opened into what appeared to be a field. Law slowed, executed a three-point turn, and backed the truck farther into the open space.

  “Where are we?” I asked, not expecting an answer. I didn’t get one. With the hand still resting on my thigh, he squeezed, and then exited the truck, leaving me behind.

  If he was waiting for me to get out myself, he had another thing coming. I didn’t even have shoes on. He stole me from my house without giving me a chance to get them.

  A rushing noise sounded, and I looked out the back window to see Law pulling the tarp away. The sun wasn’t high enough to light what was in there, though. I could’ve crawled over the seat to peek, but he’d gone through so much trouble, I didn’t want to ruin whatever it was he had planned. I followed him with my head as he walked around to my door and opened it.

  “You trying to snoop?” he asked and reached over me to unclip my seatbelt.

  “What can I say, you have me curious.”

  “Good. It’s almost time.”

  “Almost t
ime for what?”

  “Arms around my neck, Cami.”

  I sighed, trying to hide my excitement at his game. Even though I wanted to make him say it again, I slipped my arms around his neck.

  “Hold on.” He nipped at my jaw, and my stomach clenched. Into his arms I went as if I weighed nothing. He carried me to the back, smoothly navigating the snow and ice, and sat me on the open tailgate. “Up. And under the blankets, baby, you’ve only got socks on.”

  I pursed my lips and gave him a mock glare. “Wonder why that is.”

  He answered with another grin and climbed up after me, kicking his boots into the snow. Together we crawled into the mass of blankets and pillows he’d loaded into the bed of his truck. I didn’t even think there was a mattress beneath us. Just piles and piles of pillows. I found the opening to a sleeping bag on the bottom and slid inside, propping my head on some pillows and pulling another down quilt up to my chin. Law slipped in with me, his entire torso sliding down the length of mine. He opened the metal box behind us and pulled out a thermos and a cardboard box.

  “Can’t watch the sunrise without breakfast.”

  “Ooo, what’d you bring me?” I clapped my hands together beneath the blanket.

  He handed me the thermos and flipped open the top to the box. “Well, I hope you still like cinnamon rolls.”

  My eyes went wide. “You didn’t! The ones with the super thick cream cheese frosting on top?”

  There were three kinds of cinnamon rolls. Those with the barely-there glaze that chipped off into sticky bits and tasted like watered down powdered sugar. Then there was the kind with the thick frosting that looked like it was going to be the best kind, but was an over sweetened imposter. The best, and only kind in my opinion, was the ones that had thick cream cheese frosting, sweet, but not overpowering, so I could eat the entire thing without having to scrape the excess off. That was the only way to eat a cinnamon roll in my world.

  He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Of course. What other kind is there?”

  “Amen.”

  Instead of handing one to me, he held it out in front of my mouth. “Open.”

  Letting him feed me felt a little strange—less than twenty-four hours ago we were fighting in my bedroom, but I couldn’t resist the sweet temptation. Sinking my teeth into it, with the creaminess on my tongue, was glorious. That first bite put a new kind of smile on my face.

  I groaned. “It’s so good.”

  Law grabbed my wrist, held my hand out, and balanced the rest of the cinnamon roll on my open palm. I was weirdly bummed he wasn’t going to feed me another bite. But then his other hand grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me into him, and I tasted a different kind of sweetness.

  He sucked my bottom lip first, trailing the tip of his tongue over it before doing the same with the top. Then, he took my mouth, the warmth of his tongue startling against the cool air from outside. He tasted rich and warm, like that first sip of coffee in the morning, and it was the perfect complement to my yummy breakfast.

  Either the sun rose fast, or we made out a long time. The next time I registered something, other than the feel of Law kissing me, was when dawn began filtering through my eyelids.

  We broke apart, and he tucked me into his side. The sun wasn’t up yet, but it was quickly rising. I could make out the area beyond the snowy field, and at what I saw, I moved the cinnamon roll and coffee aside and sat up. At the winter wonderland before me, my breath caught.

  Untouched snow glittered in the early morning light, covering rocks and pine trees at the bank of a river. It wasn’t the river that took my breath away, though it was beautiful and a feature all on its own, but the two pools of icy water above and below two frozen waterfalls. I couldn’t stop staring at the beauty of the scenery.

  Law nudged the hair away from my ear with his nose and asked, “What do you think?”

  The span of three breaths passed. “It’s one of the most incredible sights I’ve seen in my life.”

  “Glad to hear that, because it’s yours.”

  My head whipped away from the scene, where the rising sun continued to uncover new shadows, and turned to Law. He wasn’t looking at me as he dug something out from the box of the truck. A long tube clenched in his fist, he uncapped it, dumped out a roll of paper, and set the tube aside. Over the down quilt on our laps, he spread it out.

  Neatly drawn plans stared back at me in the distinct diagram of a house.

  “What is happening,” I whispered, suddenly terrified.

  “I thought right here would be the perfect place for a wraparound deck in the back facing the river. Elevated, with a second story walkout, of course. And a pergola with fairy lights.” His finger moved across the plans in front of me.

  “Law,” I gasped.

  “Right here,” he traced an area on the other side of the house, “would be an indoor-outdoor pool. In the winter, we could fill it with snow.”

  I clutched his hand. He stopped moving through the plans, but he brought his eyes to mine and kept speaking. “Floor to ceiling library, with a sliding ladder and a spiral staircase that leads to a private reading nook filled with pillows. A window seat/bed, big enough for both of us to lay together at night and look at the stars. And an outdoor fire pit designed to feel like the beach.”

  The stickiness in my throat made it hard to speak. Or that could have been the tears I was holding back. “Y-you forgot the–ˮ

  But Law hadn’t forgotten anything. “Built in bunkbeds. I didn’t forget, just didn’t know if you’d still have the desire to fill them.”

  Oh, God. “But I have a house.”

  “So, we’ll sell it.”

  “You have a new custom-built house.”

  “Sorry to say, because we had some good memories there, but that isn’t my house.”

  My stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?”

  His hand snaked under the blanket to clutch my waist. “I build houses, babe. Long story short, a friend of mine contacted me to build his woman her dream home, I made that drive daily to oversee the project. One day I ran into you in a coffee shop, and suddenly, making that drive home every day wasn’t something I wanted to do. At the same time, he found his woman bent over her desk at work getting fucked by her boss. You can imagine, he no longer felt like building her that dream home. He let me live there to help us both out. Got the job done faster so he can sell the place and get rid of her, and gave me a place to live in town.”

  I twisted my fingers together. “Was this, um, the same friend you helped out with the pest control job?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Rhett. Good guy, but shit luck. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I thought you were here to build a strip mall?”

  His fingers squeezed. “Doing that, too. I had my eye on the job for a couple months. After I saw you and knew I wanted to stick around for a while, I put in the bid.”

  He lost my gaze as I took it all in. I was quiet, but he wasn’t done.

  “I need a house now, because the other one’s done. This land is mine, the plans are drawn, the only thing I need now is you.”

  The only thing...

  I need now...

  Is.

  You.

  I gave him my eyes and clutched his face in both hands. The scratchiness of his stubble against my palms grounded me. Touching him felt as natural as breathing. At the same time, I still couldn’t believe he was here. I imagined it would take some time to get over that.

  He was so direct in what he was saying; at the same time, he wasn’t saying what I needed him to say. Misinterpreting him at this point would obliterate me. Therefore, I managed a shuddering breath and asked the question that terrified me to no end and filled me with so much happiness I could burst.

  “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “No, I’m asking you to live this beautiful life with me.”

  “Law.” I exhaled shakily, struggling to break through the hope that ove
rtook every pore, every single molecule that completed me.

  “I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper, Cami, but if you want it, it’s yours; so long as you’re mine.”

  That couldn’t have been any clearer. Using the grip I already had, I pulled him into me and down. Nestling back into the pillows, he rolled partly on top of me as our lips connected. I hoped this was as clear of a response. A groan rumbled so deeply from his chest that I felt the vibrations against mine. My nipples tightened and a warmth started low in my belly.

  I matched him in the level of heat, kissing him with fourteen years of missed opportunities. Beneath the blankets, his hand skimmed my waist, moving lower to dip beneath my shirt. He trailed his fingers up and over the skin of my tummy to find my breast. Our mouths separated with an audible smack when he abruptly pulled back.

  “Where’s your bra?” he growled heatedly. The sun was now high enough to provide enough light to see the desire swirling in his eyes.

  “Seeing as there was a caveman, oh...” I moaned as he pinched my nipple between his finger and thumb, pulling and rolling as he watched me from above. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip, getting off on seeing the pleasure he was bringing me. “...early this morning, I didn’t have t-time to put one on.”

  His fingers walked south, and he ducked his head to nip the skin on my neck. “Forget anything else?”

  My answer slid out of me in the form of a moan, because just then, he’d discovered for himself if I had on underwear. “No...”

  One thick finger found the wetness and pushed deep inside. He cupped me there, his grip possessive, as he worked his finger in and out. Slow, smooth strokes. Too slow. Too much time had passed since the last time I’d had him, and I needed him inside me now.

  I’d lost the ability to speak when he took my mouth again, so I got my point across by shoving my hands between us and cupping his erection. His hips jerked, and he thrust himself into my palm. Our kisses turned frantic with need. His tongue went from slow and exploring to spearing into my mouth. I’d got his button undone and yanked his cock out when he broke from our kiss.