I sat, stunned, as he continued. "You were right. I am selfish. I was thinking about me, about how miserable I've been, how much I've missed you." He looked to the ceiling, shaking his head, "God, all the years we'd wasted apart."
His eyes found mine again. "I couldn't imagine you'd found someone who made you happier. Fuck, it never once occurred to me that getting you back might be the worst thing for you."
I fought and lost the battle to contain my tears, swiping at one as it rolled down my cheek.
"You came here to check on me, but can I ask if you're OK?"
I smiled through my tears. "I'm working on it. I told Nick what happened, with a little unsolicited help from Darcy fucking Schmidt."
Truman's brows went up in silent question.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes. "She happened to be driving by the night I left here. She decided to go with the easiest interpretation of what she saw. When she ran into Nick and me at a restaurant, she was all too happy to blab. It was the same night I'd planned to tell him everything. She just got the jump on it before I did."
He rolled his eyes and slammed his fist on the table. "Fucking skank has always had it out for you. Jesus, she'll never grow up."
I moved to put my hand over his, the action automatic, but pulled it away quickly. "She didn't do any damage that wasn't already in the works. Nick was going to react to the information the same way, no matter what."
He'd seen me move to touch him. Hope flamed in his eyes as he searched my face. "And what way was that?"
I could hear the trepidation, maybe even a combination of hope and guilt, tightening his vocal chords.
I fought to get the words out, "He's, um, taking some time. He's not the kind of man who can simply get over it. I think he's trying to understand how I could love him so much and still make this kind of mistake."
I couldn't say what I was really thinking—I'd broken more than Nick's trust. I'd broken us. He was never coming back to me. Try as I might, I couldn't accept it yet. I swallowed the lump in my throat at the thought I'd lost him.
And here I had Truman sitting in front of me. A man I'd loved with everything I had when I was young enough that I didn't have much to offer. Truman, the man I foolishly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with, when I'd barely begun to live it.
Now, the thought of having him as some sort of consolation prize, despite the fact it seemed he'd happily fill that opening, made me shudder. I knew with more clarity than ever, it was Nick or no one. If he never came back to me, I'd have to find a way to be happy alone.
Truman got up to refill his mug with fresh coffee. "Can't say I blame him for being pissed, but he'd be an idiot to let you go for good. My guess, he's licking his wounds, trying to find a corner of his mind to tuck this incident away so he can be right with it. He'll come back."
I watched him attempt a smile. "You don't have to console me, Tru. God knows it's probably the last thing you want to do...reassure me that my husband is going to take me back."
He nodded as he leaned against the counter next to the coffee pot. "Not my top pick for topics of conversation, but I figure I owe you." His voice dipped low with remorse. "Maybe it's my chance to help you, for a change."
He came back to the table and sat down. Time hadn't been especially kind to him. His skin was weathered from years working outside. Hard labor, and perhaps his battle with depression, made him move like a man older than one who was just shy of forty. His hair had thinned so much he'd have been nearly bald if he hadn't started shaving his head. But his face held a classic handsomeness that would always be in style, and his dark brown eyes remained beautiful pools of warmth, strength, and sincerity.
It was impossible not to love him when he looked at me like he was. But sitting there, I recognized the difference. The feelings I had for Tru weren't the same as those I had for Nick. Why had I ever been confused when it was so obvious who truly owned my heart?
He took a deep breath. "You are, and have always been, the love of my life. That will never change, but I know our time has passed. I've been greedy where you're concerned. I was a lucky bastard when you chose me." He looked down at his hands, wrapped around his cup. "I should've protected what we had. Instead, I threw it away. Stupidest decision of my life."
He stood, going to the sink to pour out the dregs of his coffee and rinse the mug. "For years I wanted to blame you, my dad, booze, depression...everything and everyone except the only person who deserved it." He turned around to face me. "Fact is, I made a mistake that night, with Jen, but that was one of many. Start to finish, I set myself up to fuck you over. I know I hurt you. I thought I'd taken responsibility for it, but truth was, I was trying to pick up where we left off. Trying to recreate something that's been gone a long time."
His honesty was like a paralytic. I sat, frozen, as he gave me one last gift.
"I'm not gonna kill myself. For you, for my family...for me. I'm going to figure out how to live with this disease until God decides I'm done. I don't want you to worry about me anymore. It was never your responsibility, anyway. I want you to know, if you ever need me I'll be here, in whatever way works for you."
I stood and walked over to him, moved by everything he'd said, grateful he'd had the guts to say it. I grabbed his hands and squeezed.
"I love you, Truman. I always have, from the first moment I saw you my freshman year of high school. That hasn't changed and never will." I watched him smile, warmth radiating from him in waves. I held his hands tighter in mine. "Thank you for that. For everything you've said. I do want you to live, to thrive, so very much."
I swallowed, hard, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think we both know if we stay in each other's lives, neither of us will be able to move on. And I need to move on, from you. I love you, but I can't see you anymore."
A single tear spilled from the corner of his eye. I watched it travel down his cheek and over his jaw. He didn't let go of my hands to wipe it away. He simply smiled and nodded.
I backed away. Our hands remained intertwined until the distance forced us to let go. "Are you going to be OK?"
He laughed. "Still the same girl, always thinking of everyone else before yourself." He wiped at the wetness on his cheek. "Yeah, darlin'. For the first time in a long time, I really feel like I'm gonna be OK."
I gathered my purse and started toward the door when I heard him.
"Jessa." His voice was barely above a whisper.
I turned and took in the sight of Truman Miller, a man with light in his eyes, a man ready to fight for his life, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Be happy."
I nodded, unable to speak past the knot in my throat. I walked through the house, out the door, and paused on the front steps. I was free, finally. I managed a small smile as I turned my face into the sunlight.
I needed to find my husband. I needed Nick.
***
I curled my fingers into my palms as I walked down the hallway. Lockers lined each side, with posters advertising the homecoming dance, the food drive, and various after school clubs dotted along the walls. The bell rang as I signed into the front office. Aside from a few couples taking advantage of the relative privacy to get in one last kiss (or one long one), the halls were deserted.
I scanned the numbers over doors as I searched. It'd been a long time since I'd been there. My nerves were on edge, body rigid with tension, and all of that made it hard to think clearly. After turning a final corner, I saw his classroom. A peek through the windowed door showed my beautiful husband, tilted back in his rolling chair, feet propped on the corner of his desk, a ballpoint pen in hand as he concentrated on a paper in front of him.
I sucked in a breath at the sight. It'd been two weeks without my eyes on him. With nothing more than a few terse phone calls—those mostly to ease my mind that he was OK—I'd also been deprived of his voice. When he'd called a week earlier to make sure I'd be out of the house so he could come over and pick up a few things, I'd done my best t
o sound neutral, to swallow the despair I'd felt at the distance he'd kept between us.
I couldn't risk the answer being never, so I didn't ask him if he would return. He hadn't volunteered any information, either. The direction things were headed was a pressure on my chest so intense I wondered at how I managed to stay upright. The more of his stuff he took from the house, the lower my hopes were that we would survive this.
"Whatever is going on between you and Truman, clearly shit is not resolved between you. Talk to him. Or leave the motherfucker to rot. I don't care. Figure out what you want."
After another sleepless night, Nick's words echoing in my head, I had gone to Truman to say my final goodbyes. Nick was right, after all. Seeing Tru, making a definitive break, had also freed me.
Time without Nick and a revelation about the nature of my relationship with Truman meant I didn't need to think anymore. I knew what I wanted, what I needed, and it was the gorgeous man sitting in his classroom right in front of me. I'd driven two hours from Eugene back to Portland, straight to his school to lay myself out for him. If only I could get my feet to move.
As I stood in the hallway, breathing deep, I leaned against the wall. I hadn't thought much about what I'd say. I couldn't get my scrambled thoughts to formulate a plan now, either. I was going to have to wing it, to speak from the heart.
I took a deep breath and held it as I forced myself to turn, grab the handle of his door, and walk with quick steps toward him. At the sound, Nick's head shot up. His eyes widened in shock as his feet fell off the corner of his desk and plopped on the floor.
"Jess—"
"No." I held my hand up as I stood facing him. If he stopped me from speaking, I couldn't guarantee my body wouldn't split in half, the fracture beginning and ending with my heart. I couldn't risk more than I already had.
"Please listen to me." My expression, whatever it was, froze Nick in place. "I'm so sorry, baby. I made a mistake—"
"Stop." His tone was firm, his eyes hard, as he spoke.
My mouth snapped shut, my body obeying him even as my mind sought to catch up. He glanced behind me, before whispering, "Jessa, go home."
I attempted to swallow, my tongue thick in my mouth as I found my voice. "What?"
His eyes shifted to the wall behind me again before he repeated, "Go. Home."
When his eyes shifted a third time, I finally turned, irritated at whatever was keeping his attention from the most important conversation we'd ever had. Swiveling on my heels, I came face to face with dozens of adolescent eyes, each pair glued to me, each face displaying shock, delight, curiosity...and mostly all three.
The blood rushed from my face while the earth dropped out from under me. All those young faces pixilated through the lens of tears filling my eyes. I snapped my mouth shut again and turned back to Nick, as the first tear fell.
I watched him, his gaze shifting to the drop making its way down my cheek. His expression softened, then, before he looked into my eyes again. I knew I should leave, but mortification had me frozen in place. I could feel the eyes of his class on my back, burning like the summer sun.
Nick sighed and looked over my shoulder once more. "Guys, keep working on your tests."
Silence prevailed in the room as he came around the desk and gripped my elbow. We walked toward the door before he twisted, looking behind us to point to a girl in the front row. "Amanda, you're in charge. You see anyone messing around, let me know."
He glanced back at his class as we reached the door. "Serious, people. You finish your tests, no talking. If I hear any different, the whole thing will be voided. And if I have to make up a new one, trust me, it'll be a lot harder."
At that, a collective groan broke the silence, followed by the squeak of the door opening in front of us before we were out of the room.
Once in the hallway, Nick squeezed my elbow to get my attention. I pivoted, staring into his green eyes, still mortified at my behavior, but mostly enjoying the sight and scent only a foot in front of me. We stared at each other for a moment before it dawned on me he wasn't talking. Seeing my chance, I started to launch into my apology, once again.
"I miss you." It wasn't an apology, but it was the truth. Realizing how desperate and lame I sounded, I tried again. "I'm so sorry, Nick. I—"
"You make your choice?" He cut me off, his question laced with anger and pain. I studied his face and finally noticed the strain around his eyes. His usual scruff was inching toward a beard. Dark circles made him look tired. He'd been suffering, too.
I shook my head, the movement causing Nick to shutter his expression. I watched as his defenses began to slam back in place. "There was never a choice, baby, not for me. It's always been you. It'll always be you."
I had only a moment to appreciate the way his features softened. His eyes traveled over my face, as if absorbing the sight, the same way I was taking in all the beauty in front of me. His hand came around the back of my neck, pulling me toward him seconds before his mouth slanted over mine.
I yelped at the suddenness of the movement before I melted against him. The kiss was not sweet. It was demanding and hard. He was taking back what had always been his. Reclaiming his territory, and I loved it. As his tongue probed and invaded, deep and long, I gave myself to him anew.
I pressed in, our bodies touching from knees to lips as my hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck, pulling him toward me as I accepted his invasion. His hands threaded behind me to grip my ass as he inhaled sharply through his nose. All of this telling me Nick missed me as much, maybe more, than I'd missed him.
It was over too soon. We pulled apart, reluctantly, and stared at each other, our lips wet and red from what we'd done. The spell was broken when applause erupted from inside his classroom. Nick turned us, not letting go of me, only to find his students gathered around his desk, staring through the window at the sight of us. They were also hooting, fist-pumping, and whistling, all of which caused Nick to gently push me away so he could glare at them and motion for them to return to their desks.
The kids reluctantly did as he indicated and meandered away, animatedly talking to each other as they moved.
Nick turned to me. I grinned. Then he did, big. A thought hit me, and my grin faded. I wasn't sure where we were headed from there, but that kiss seemed to indicate the road would not end with me getting served divorce papers. Still, I needed to clarify. I opened my mouth to ask when he spoke first.
"Might be home a little late tonight, baby. Seems I've got a new final exam to write."
He smacked my ass and winked at me, laying another kiss—this one hot and heavy but too short—on my lips before he smiled, turned, and opened the door to his room. I watched as he got his class back in order. Then I walked on wobbly legs back down the hall, to my car, and drove home.
Our home.
***
Seven months later...
"Nick, baby, I'm coming."
I bit my lip as my body tightened around him. Nick ground his hips into mine, hitting me deep before pulling out and plunging in again. The sweet slide of his cock only heightened my orgasm. Waves of cascading pulses lit me up from the inside out. Like a star contracting before exploding, the chills rocketed from my clit throughout my body, erupting over my skin until there wasn't an inch of me I wasn't aware of.
The sound of our skin slapping echoed around our bedroom as Nick thrust one last time before the sexiest groan emanated from his chest, up his throat, and into my ear. I shivered, squeezing my muscles around him, just so I could hear him make the sound again. He did, right before he took my mouth, long, wet, and deep.
He collapsed on top of me, his lean body blanketing mine in my favorite post-coital position. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding on. His lips traveled from my cheek, down my neck, and further, to my shoulder where he sank his teeth into the sensitive skin there. I giggled and squirmed underneath him, the sensation warming my satiated body. His hard length, still inside me, pu
lsed with the movement.
"You keep that up, and it won't be long before you find yourself on all fours for another round." He smiled against my lips, not giving me a chance to respond before he drove his tongue inside my mouth for another hot kiss.
I tilted my pelvis, encouraging him to move. The suggestion of making love again was more appealing with every swipe of his tongue against mine. He broke off contact and smiled before rolling over, pulling me with him until I was tucked into his side.
"I can see my threat was less than intimidating."
I laughed, loving the feel of his fingertips on my shoulder, drawing circles, before he took a lock of my hair and twirled it between his fingers. I rolled on top of him and grinned, licking up the center of his chest, his taste salty and sweet after our exertion. Craving more of him, I moved from one nipple to another, laving each one as Nick's breaths shortened.
"If you think threatening me with your giant, beautiful, hard cock is going to dissuade me to do, well, anything, you're sorely mistaken, Mr. Petrillo."
I moved swiftly down his body and took him in my mouth, all the way to the root, before withdrawing slowly while sucking. When I got to the tip, I wrapped my tongue around the head, swirling in circles that made my husband involuntarily thrust himself against my lips.
I could taste our combined essence on my tongue, the flavor better than either of us separately. The agonized groan that tore from Nick's chest sent shivers up my spine. My pussy pulsed with need again. I crawled back up his body and slid him inside me in one thrust.
"Jessa, babe. You feel so good."
Nick's hazy green eyes looked up at me with such unabashed adoration, I paused, holding my breath as I memorized the sight.
His hands glided up my arms and through my hair, framing my face as his brows pulled together with concern. I shook my head, my eyes glistening with tears.
Nick's hands tightened around my jaw. "Don't."
He pulled me to his mouth. I let him soothe me, his lips tender as they brushed against mine, before I sat up again. His cock was still hard inside me. I was weak with wanting him, the feeling so overwhelming I could hardly breathe, but I couldn't—wouldn't—forget how close I'd come to never feeling this again.
I Fell In: A mostly true story about lust, redemption, and true love. Page 24
