by Rye Hart
“I don’t have a ring,” I said. “But who cares? We’ve waited ten years for this, I’m not waiting another second. Tara, baby, will you marry me?”
“Are you sure this isn’t just because I’m sick?”
“Will you just say yes!” I said, laughing and swaying on my bad leg.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course. You’re insane, but yes!”
I got to my feet and wrapped my arms around her waist. I kissed her softly, picking her up off the ground and spinning her in a circle. She clung to my shoulders, kissing me back and laughing against my lips.
When I put her down, we both heard the door open behind us. We spun around to see my mom walking inside. She smiled and waved, hurrying over to us.
“Should we tell her?” Tara asked.
“You do it,” I said, nudging her forward.
“Hey kids,” Mom said. “How was the session?”
“We’re getting married!” Tara squealed, unable to contain her excitement for another second.
“What!” Mom looked from Tara to me and then back again. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I said. “I just asked her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to propose?” Mom demanded. “I could have helped you pick out the ring!”
“Well, you still can,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t exactly plan it. It just sort of felt right.”
“Of course it did!” Mom said, grinning widely. “You two were always meant to be together.”
“You think so?” Tara asked, smiling at me. Her eyes were so full of emotion.
“I know so,” Mom said. “I’ve always known it. A love like that isn’t something that just fades away with time. I knew it then, and I know it now. Oh my gosh! I’m so happy for you both!”
“I just hope Darren feels the same way,” I said, shaking my head and laughing.
“Oh, who cares?” Mom said. Tara laughed as my mom pulled her in for a hug.
EPILOGUE - TARA
I stared at myself in the mirror, taking in the sight of my white dress and long veil. My hair was shorter than it had ever been. I lost it during the first couple rounds of chemo, and now, a year later, it had finally grown back in. It didn’t quite reach my shoulders, but with the veil in place, you could barely tell. I’d been nervous about this day for a long time. When I was so sick I couldn’t leave the hospital, I thought it would never happen.
I still couldn’t believe I was about to walk down the aisle and marry Caleb. My cancer was still refusing to give way, but things were starting to change for the better. My last scan showed less activity, and Dr. Young was hopeful that, after two more rounds, I would be in the clear.
It hadn’t been an easy road. The last year of my life was both the happiest and the hardest. I was sick more often than not, but Caleb never left my side. He even took a leave of absence from the station to be there for me. I knew it wasn’t easy for him. He loved his job, but he did it. I knew that more than anything, was what finally convinced my dad to give him a real chance.
“You about ready?” Cathy asked from the doorway.
I turned to face her with a smile on my face. Her eyes instantly filled with tears as she took in the sight of me in my dress.
“You’re gorgeous,” she said. She ran over to kiss my cheek. She adjusted my veil and then wiped her eyes frantically. “Let’s go before I dissolve into a puddle of tears.”
I laughed and followed her into the hallway. Stephanie was already waiting for me with my bouquet. She grinned at me and handed over my flowers. The ceremony was about to start, and we all had to get in place.
Cathy waved and disappeared through the double doors. I stood back with Stephanie, my heart racing in my chest. I was ready for this moment and I had been for months. The second Caleb proposed, I knew my answer would always be yes. He was the love my life. That would never change.
“Okay kiddo,” my dad said, walking up behind me. “It’s show time.”
The music began to play inside the church, and I felt my stomach clench. Stephanie stepped out in front of the doors and waited for her cue while my father and I lined up behind her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked softly. “Any weakness?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I feel amazing.”
He smiled and kissed my cheek. His eyes were full of tears as he turned to face me.
“Watching you go through chemo has been so hard,” he said. “I’ve never been so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, my voice weak.
“And the way Caleb took care of you.” He paused. “I can’t imagine a better man for you. He was everything you needed. I know now that I was wrong about him and about your relationship. He’s perfect for you.”
“I know,” I said. Dad smiled and kissed my cheek again. The music was slowly approaching our cue so we took a couple steps forward and waited.
I wrapped my hand around my dad’s arm and felt butterflies rise in my stomach. When it was time to walk, I felt like I was floating. My head felt light, and my feet barely touched the ground.
When I saw Caleb standing at the end of the aisle, I couldn’t wait another second. My dad had to hold me back so I wouldn’t run forward. The music was impossibly slow, and the entire walk down the aisle was torturous. I just wanted to get to Caleb’s arms.
“Take care of her, kid,” Dad said as he placed my hand in Caleb’s.
“Always,” Caleb said.
Dad smiled and walked down to sit beside Cathy. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they both smiled up at us.
Turning to face Caleb, I felt happier than I’d ever been.
***
The reception was a blur of music and laughter. Caleb’s firemen buddies kept everyone entertained well into the night. Stephanie snuck off with Tyler sometime after we cut the cake, and Dad and Cathy were both so happy they couldn’t sit still. They never left the dance floor, whirling each other around like two teenagers in love.
I only had eyes for Caleb. We went through the traditional dances and toasts. We cut the cake and danced some more. By the time the night was over, I was exhausted and ready to be alone with my new husband.
“Will you be upset if I tear that dress off you?” Caleb asked, whispering in my ear while we waited for the limo to pull up.
“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” I said with a mischievous glint in my eyes.
Caleb grinned down at me just as the limo pulled up. All our guests lined up outside to blow bubbles on us as we ran toward the car. I laughed as Caleb threw open the door and practically shoved me inside.
We barely got the door closed before his lips were on mine. I melted into him, losing myself in the feel of his lips and the taste of his tongue. We could barely wait to tear into each other.
“Are you feeling okay?” Caleb asked, suddenly pulling away. “Are you tired?”
“I’m all right,” I said. “Better than fine. I’m so happy.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to exhaust yourself.”
“That’s what wedding nights are for,” I said with a grin.
“I’m serious, Tara.” His eyes were dark. I sighed and kissed him softly.
“I feel great,” I said. “I’m a little tired, but it’s not chemo related.”
“Okay,” he said. Relief flooded his features, and he claimed my lips again.
With my chemo schedule, we couldn’t take a honeymoon anytime soon. Caleb wanted to plan something far away and exotic, but Dr. Young said no. She wanted me to stay in town until my therapies were completely over. If something happened, I needed to have access to my doctors immediately.
We were both upset, but Caleb didn’t want to risk anything that might hurt me. Instead, he reserved the honeymoon suite at a hotel downtown. We would have the entire place to ourselves for four days. I was so excited that I was shaking by the time the limo pulled up outside the hotel.
Caleb couldn’t keep his hands off me
. He kissed me in the elevator, sliding his hands under my dress and cupping my ass in his strong hands. I moaned and pressed the button for our floor repeatedly.
We barely made it inside the room before Caleb ripped the wedding dress off my body. He tore the zipper down the back, but I didn’t care. I needed to feel him inside of me. My bra and panties flew off in an instant, and soon, Caleb was stepping out of his tux and throwing me on the bed.
He devoured my body with his, kissing and licking every inch of me. I writhed beneath him while he brought me to orgasm over and over again. Our bodies melted into each other before he even slid himself inside of me. And when he did, the entire world melted away.
He held onto me tightly while he rocked our bodies back and forth. His dick filled me up completely, pressing deeper and deeper with each thrust. I was panting and clawing at his back, hungry for more.
“I love you,” he said, his voice a deep growl.
“I love you so much,” I said between moans.
I couldn’t tell where Caleb ended and I began. He was inside of me, on top of me, and all over me.
He thrust his hips harder and faster, grunting with need and taking me as his own. I threw my head back and let waves of pleasure wash over my body. I shook and cried out, moaning Caleb’s name and clinging to him.
My pussy clenched around him, and he came fast. He grunted and growled, biting at my neck and kissing my lips. We held onto each other, still locked together. Our bodies shook, and we dripped with sweat, but we didn’t care. As we kissed, the entire world melted away.
I slept peacefully that night, wrapped in Caleb’s arms. Neither of us said a word until the next morning. We didn’t have to. Everything between us was perfect. Our entire lives felt like they’d finally fallen into place. That night, I didn’t feel sick. I felt whole.
We woke the next morning and stayed in bed. Caleb stroked my skin, and I kissed his chest. We didn’t want to move for fear of popping our little bubble. Instead, we stayed hidden in that room for four days, alternating between making love and dreaming about our future.
On our last day in the honeymoon suite, he held me close while we lied naked in bed. His body felt like part of my own. We’d spent so much time locked together that I didn’t think I would survive when we finally had to break apart.
Caleb stroked my hair and whispered soft words in my ears. He promised me the world.
“When you’re healthy,” he said with a sweet look on his face, “what do you think about kids?”
“You want kids?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “Hell yeah, I want kids. A bunch of kids.”
I laughed, and we spent the rest of the day naming our future kids.
Caleb told me about his plans to whisk me away the second I entered remission. He knew my cancer would disappear, and he was right. Within six months, I was cancer free. I didn’t know it then, but Caleb did. He never gave up hope. He never stopped planning for our future.
The End
IT’S NOT OVER YET....THE PARTY HAS JUST STARTED.....
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CHAPTER ONE - VANESSA
“We're on in ten minutes,” Lucas, my father's Chief of Staff, said, tapping at his watch to emphasize his point.
My dad was pacing the room, his temper starting to flare as I desperately tried one more time to call my stepbrother, Carter, to see why he wasn't there as he promised he would. His mother, Andrea, was getting her makeup touched up nearby, seemingly unaffected by it all. She'd left it all on my shoulders to get Carter there and ready to go in front of the press.
“Carter, where are you? The press conference is starting in a few minutes and you're supposed to be here,” I said, my tone sharp after getting his voicemail again. “Call me back. Please.”
“I knew he was going to be a problem,” my dad growled as he continued to pace the room. “I goddamn knew it.”
His large, imposing figure was enough to intimidate most men, which had made dating a challenge when I was younger. But Carter had never been fazed by my father, mostly because it was obvious that he didn't respect him.
“I'm sure he will be here,” Andrea said from her seat, pressing her lips together and staring at her reflection in the mirror, looking for the slightest imperfection. “You know Carter, he's always running late.”
“I told him he needed to be here half an hour early,” I muttered. “Just because I know he has trouble being on time.”
My father ran a hand through his thinning gray hair, shaking his head. “Since joining this family, he's been nothing but a disappointment,” he said. “You'd think he'd want me to win this election and become a Senator. If nothing else, it would surely help with his trust fund. God knows that's all he cares about.”
I cringed at my father's harsh words for my stepbrother. Deep down though, I knew I couldn't dispute them. While yes, Carter was a problem – and truthfully, had become an even bigger one so since our two families had become one – I still hated hearing my father talk poorly of him. My dad didn't mince his words. It wasn't his most endearing trait, but one I'd grown used to over the years. But Carter struggled with it. He wasn't used to being spoken to so directly or so harshly, at times. And because of that, the two men butted heads over everything.
“He'll probably show up drunk again. Or high,” my father said. “If he does, I swear to you, Andrea, I'm going to – ”
I stopped him before he could finish, knowing that whatever he had to say wouldn't be pretty and would likely end up in a knock-down, drag-out fight, or with Andrea in tears. Or more likely, both.
“I'll find him,” I said, standing up, glad to have a reason to get out of there for a moment. “I always do, don't I?”
In many ways, I was my stepbrother's keeper. I was the one who corralled him, getting him to one event after the other, making sure he had clean clothes and sobered up before he made an ass of himself or my father. It was a role I didn't want, but had taken on to help my father's career. After all, no one wanted to see my dad's name in the headlines for Carter's unruly behavior, least of all, my father. Especially just as he's announcing his run for the Senate.
“In ten minutes?” my dad asked, his gruff voice softening ever so slightly. “Honey, even you can't perform a miracle like that. And the last thing we need is for both of you to miss the press conference. Honestly, it's probably better if he doesn't show up anyway. I suppose – ”
My father bit off his words, ending his sentence when we heard raucous laughter in the hallway. Lucas's voice carried into the room and the expression on my father's face darkened immediately.
“Your family is waiting right in here,” Lucas said.
My father and I shared a look and a nervous chill crept along my flesh, waiting for the inevitable explosion that seemed to be forthcoming. Carter was there and it was obvious from the feminine laughter in the hallway outside, that he wasn't alone. As the door to our room opened, Carter came in looking as ruggedly handsome as usual, with his shaggy brown hair and toned, surfer body. There was a buxom blonde wearing a crop top and short-shorts hanging on his arm, giggling almost uncontrollably. Both of them looked high as a kite.
Quickly stepping into my role as the family's peacemaker, I rushed over to Carter,
trying to ignore the bimbo at his side – a feat that wasn't all that easy to accomplish. I looked at him and shook my head. He was in no shape to be on the podium for my father's press conference.
“Carter, we need to get you changed – ”
Carter was in his usual attire – ripped jeans and a tight t-shirt that hugged his firm, fit body. The tattoos on his arms were visible, bared to the world; something my father always tried to make him hide when we were in front of the cameras. He felt that it sent the wrong message and would be abhorrent to his typical voting base. Personally, I thought he was overreacting a bit about Carter's tats and that in this day and age, most people wouldn't think twice about them.
Nevertheless, my father insisted that Carter cover them up at public events. So, as usual, knowing that he never came prepared or took my father's campaign events seriously, I had a suit and tie ready and waiting for him. One of my tasks was to always make Carter look presentable for the cameras.
“Leave me alone. I'm fine like I am,” Carter said, then he turned his glassy eyes toward me.
I looked away, unable to make eye contact with him in his current condition. It killed me every time to see my gorgeous stepbrother drunk or all doped up. I hated seeing him becoming the waste that my father always accused him of being. Carter was better than that. There was more to him than the drunk playboy he was starting to be known to be. I'd seen it.
I remembered a time when he wasn't a train wreck. When he could speak articulately, even eloquently about any number of subjects. I remember when he had a passion and zeal about him. But as I looked at him, his eyes glassy, swaying back and forth on his feet, I also saw that those days seemed long gone. Carter had started down a dark path, one I didn't know that he could come back from. A path I was beginning to doubt he even wanted to come back from.
