The Wife Pact_Emerson

by Charlie Hart

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “No,” he agrees. “But what else can we do?”

  I feel like there’s something he’s holding back.

  “Did you ever think about staying here and not marrying?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. “Yes. But not because I didn’t want to share my life with someone. I’ve always wanted to be a husband. To be a father.”

  There’s something in his words, a secret that I can hear but not decode.

  “And you couldn’t have that here.”

  “I thought I could.”

  “Was there someone you loved?” I think back to the pretty brunette in the photo. It’s not jealousy that spurs my question, just curiosity. I can’t begrudge my husbands for their pasts. I hope in time they will all feel safe enough in our love to be open with me about everything.

  “Loved?” He shakes his head, but I know he is thinking about his ghosts. Maybe they’re still haunting him. “What does a fourteen-year-old know about love?”

  I run my thumb over his hand, my voice soft. “Who was she?”

  “Helene.”

  “What happened?” I ask softly.

  His jaw clenches. “She wasn’t from here. My father found her drifting in a small boat just off the coast. She’d run away from the mainland when she found out that she was to be forced into the lottery. My parents took her in. Let her work on the farm, and kept her identity a secret.”

  I frown, a pressure at the back of my skull warning me that the story doesn’t have a happy ending.

  “She was older than me. Nineteen when she arrived. But I was...” His lips tug up. “I didn’t look my age.”

  “You were fourteen?”

  He nods. “Didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing, but I learned quickly. When my parents found out that we were... intimate, they threatened to send her away. But it was already too late.”

  “Too late?” I place my hand on his chest. “Because you were in love with her?”

  “No. Sure, I lusted after her. But love wasn’t part of it. I didn’t know what love between a man and woman was until I met you, Tia.”

  “Then what?”

  He glances over his shoulder, brows drawn, and I can tell he’s debating whether to open up. Finally, he lets out a long uneven sigh.

  “She got pregnant.”

  “Oh.” Of all the things I expect him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

  “Did she... did she survive?”

  “Yes. And so did the child.”

  He has a kid. I remember the baby in the photo. He’s a father.

  My throat constricts.

  “What happened to them?”

  He runs a palm over his face then pinches the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t shared this with anyone. Only my family knows. There are things...”

  I grip his hand tight. “Whatever it is, you can trust me. I love you.”

  “I know.” He rests his forehead against mine and his eyes close. “I helped deliver the baby here, in this room. The day was hot as hell, middle of August, and yet when Helene went into labor it was chillingly cold in here. We were all so scared, we were bracing ourselves for the worst, for the ice that would surely cover us when we lost them.

  “But they didn’t die. And our hearts all melted when we laid eyes on the baby. He was beautiful and healthy, and I loved him the second I looked into his eyes, kissed his chubby cheeks, counted his ten fingers and ten toes. But...” He mutters a curse under his breath. “I was fifteen when he was born. I didn’t know a thing about being a father. And Helene knew even less about being a mother. And then there was the law and the fines. We couldn’t pay them and keep the farm. My parents did what they thought best at the time.”

  Anxiety twists in my chest. “What did they do?”

  “They sent me away to the Navy. Again, I was big for my age, so no one questioned me when I said I was eighteen.”

  “And the baby?”

  “Helene wasn’t ready to be a mother. She was terrified of the idea. She wanted... freedom. And the last thing she wanted was the burden of a son. Honestly, I couldn’t fault her for it, for wanting to leave him behind. Helene was always wild… lost… the idea of her staying put in one place, year after year… impossible.” Emerson shakes his head. “So, my parents took him and raised him as their own.”

  It takes me a few seconds to understand what he’s saying. “Mason is your son?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh, my God.

  I pull back, trying to grasp this new piece of himself that he’s revealed.

  “Does he know?”

  “No.” Emerson’s eyes meet mine, blazing with determination. “And he can’t. At least not until he’s older.”

  “And the woman. Helene?”

  “She left soon after Mason was born. I only received one letter from her a few years back. After everything she went through to be free, she entered the lottery after all. Married. Had two other children. But she passed away from complications with the last one. At least that’s what the report said. I don’t believe it though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she knew how to protect herself. She had my mother’s recipe.”

  “Recipe?”

  “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here. There’s a flower that grows only on the west side of the island. When mixed with white willow bark, and honey, and taken orally daily, it reduces the risks--”

  “An old wives’ tale isn’t going to save me, Em.”

  “It helped Helene. And my mom has--”

  “A flower isn’t going to help me,” I insist.

  But my husband is just as insistent when he says, “You’re wrong. I’d bet my life on it.”

  Chapter 6

  Emerson

  Tia’s beautiful eyes cloud with doubt at my words. “I wish it were possible for some wildflower to cure this epidemic, but we need something much stronger than that.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you,” I tell her, my arm draped over her shoulder. I twirl a long lock of her hair between my fingers.

  She lets out a small burst of air. “No surprise there.”

  I pull back and frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She turns her body so she can look me in the eyes. “Em, you’re not one for fighting.” She smiles as if her statement is a simple one to absorb. Then she presses a hand to my chest, clearly noticing my scowl. “You do what is easy, is all. What makes people happy instead of standing up for--”

  I cut her off. “Don’t, Tia.” My words are clipped. She has no idea.

  Her eyebrows narrow as she takes in my tone. “Em, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She sits upright, pursing her lips. “I’m not saying you’re weak, it’s just… you abandoned your son because your parents told you to. You joined the Navy because it’s what they wanted to. What about you, Emerson? What do you want?”

  My jaw tightens and I try to keep my voice quiet, but the truth is, I want to shout. I love her, I do, but she gets reckless with her words and emotions. She acts before she thinks things through, and she’s lucky that so far it hasn’t hurt her… but it scares me to think that one day she will take things too far. That one day she will come face-to-face with someone less forgiving than her husbands.

  Frustration laces through me.

  “Did it ever occur to you, Tia, that making sacrifices isn’t a weakness, but a strength?”

  She tilts her head, listening, but she doesn’t answer. Her gaze falls to her hands and she doesn’t look up.

  “Listen to me,” I tell her. “I didn’t abandon Mason. I did what I could to give him the best shot at life.” That’s the truth. “And I left home for the Navy because getting a job meant earning a paycheck that I could send back to the farm to help the people I love more than anything.”

  As I speak, I realize my voice is getting louder, but I’m upset. Tia doesn’t see me as the man I am… just a
one-dimensional character who makes dinner and cleans the goddamn compound.

  “Can’t you see?” I ask her, lifting her chin and forcing her eyes to mine. “I had already fucked so much up. And yet my family took that money I’d given them over the years and sent it in to the lottery on my behalf. And now you’re sitting in their home telling me I’m weak. Because of what exactly? That I did my best to make my parents proud? That because I chose to protect my son’s mother, I’m less of a man?”

  Tia’s eyes blur with tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you were weak. I shouldn’t have said it like that--”

  “No, you shouldn’t have said it at all.” I run a hand over my beard, trying to steal my emotions. “Tia, I know I’m not perfect but--”

  “Stop,” she says, reaching for my hands. “That’s the whole problem. You are perfect. You’re too good for me. This whole family is.” She rests her head against my chest and I run a hand through her long silky hair.

  “That’s not true.” I’m the furthest thing from it. My outburst just proves it.

  “I’m a rollercoaster of emotions. It’s either fear or lust or jealousy consuming me… and it’s constantly changing.” Her breath comes out shaky as if she’s holding back tears. “I’m... I’d I’m just...”

  “Pregnant.”

  She looks up at me, her beautiful face strained with emotions. “Yes. That’s the best and worst part of it all. I don’t even know what’s happening to me. I’m going to—" She hiccups. “I’m going to be...”

  “You’re going to be fine,” I tell her, truly believing it.

  “Everything points to a bad ending.” She shakes her head. “How can you always be so positive? So sure.”

  I give her small smile, cupping her face in my hand, my thumb running over her lips. “I’ve done this before, remember?”

  Her chin quivers. “I can’t believe I questioned your motivation. Those words were so ugly. You deserve so much better.”

  “Tia,” I say softly. “I may be a nice guy, who hates arguing and wants everyone to kiss and make up, but it really doesn’t mean I don’t have flaws. I do. But making sacrifices for the good of the whole isn’t one of them.”

  “I know.” Her eyes melt into mine. “And maybe that’s why I lashed out at you. I’ve been so selfish, running away from my husbands instead of telling you the truth, keeping secrets. I’m so ashamed of the way I’ve behaved. And then I’m here, in this farmhouse with people who are so good, so true and I can’t help but think you would be better off with a different sort of wife. A wife who was calm and steady, a wife who leads with her heart instead of her messed up mind.”

  I pull her close to me, knowing she has it all wrong. “I love your messed up mind. And why would I want calm and steady when I can have your wild love?” I draw my lips to hers, kissing her lips ever so softly. “And I kept a secret too.”

  “To protect Mason.”

  Our foreheads touch and our hearts beat hard. “Yes, same as you tried to protect us.”

  She sighs.

  “You say you don’t lead with your heart, but Tia, you’re wrong. You could have chosen to end this pregnancy. Instead, you chose life. You choose to hold on to hope no matter the cost. There is no greater sacrifice than the one you are making right now.”

  She gives a small nod.

  “Will you forgive me?” she asks, her words so tender and raw and if there was any trace of hurt in my heart it is gone. Melted away with my absolute devotion to her.

  “Oh, love,” I groan. “I will always forgive you. And I will always, always love you.” I kiss her again, drawing her to me, our mouths parting as we sink into one another’s embrace. “God, I need you,” I tell her as I run my hand over her back.

  I lift her up into my arms and carry her to my room. The floorboards creak, and the familiar sounds of home waft over me. I wish Tia and I could stay here forever. I can just picture her barefoot and pregnant, the summer sun in her hair, pink coloring her cheeks. It would look so damn good on her.

  But we can’t have it all.

  As I lay my wife down on my bed, pulling off her pants and her panties, lifting her shirt and tossing her bra aside, I realize I don’t need it all, anyways. Kneeling before her, I kiss her belly, knowing I have more than enough.

  Chapter 7

  Tia

  Emerson kisses me like we have forever in this farmhouse like there’s nothing but this night and us. It feels as if we are a million miles away from the rest of the world. I was horrible to him, yet instead of fighting, he forgives. Instead of anger, he accepts.

  I pull him to the bed with me, my hand wrapped around his cock, feeling his desire growing as my need for him runs through my veins.

  “I love you,” I whisper in his ear, my finger tracing the lines of his tattoos, seeing a new depth in him after everything he shared tonight. He has never been more handsome.

  He is a father. A husband. Mine. And all I want is to make him happy. Make him proud. I ease him down onto the mattress, my fingers massaging his tight balls. He rakes his fingers through my hair as I part my lips and take him in my mouth.

  His cock is so hard, so big, and I want to make him happy, so I take as much of him as I can. His hand runs over my butt, drawing my body closer to his as I continue to suck him, up and down. He pulls my leg over him, so I am straddling him from behind, and his fingers begin to run up and down my pussy.

  It excites me, the way he touches me in the dark bedroom, the light of the moon filtering through the half-closed curtains. My head bobs up and down as I lick his hard ridges, smiling in pleasure as I get my husband closer to orgasm.

  His fingers enter my opening, my clit throbbing as he begins to circle it with expertise. He dips two fingers into me, and I gag on his length as I forget to breathe, the rush of ecstasy flowing through me as his fingers flutter in my pussy,

  “You like that, baby?” he asks as I pant, sucking him deeper and deeper as he begins to rub me up and down.

  He knows I love it, my pussy is wet and warm, and when he pulls on my hips, easing me closer to his mouth, I moan loudly, before realizing his parents are a few doors down. Mortified, I take him in my mouth again, wanting to keep quiet.

  Em laughs, clearly understanding, and instead of easing up on me, he begins to lick me with abandon. His thick beard tickles me in all the right ways and I squirm, laughing as he licks me until I am delirious.

  “You taste so fucking good, Tia,” he tells me, taking a breather from burying his face in my pussy.

  I don’t answer. Instead, I begin to suck him until he is the one groaning, coming in my mouth the way I hoped he would.

  His creamy release slides down my throat and I keep sucking, wanting to taste every last drop he has to give me. When he finishes, I spin myself around, wiping my lips, and sinking down on his still hard cock.

  “God, Tia,” he growls, his hands on my breasts, his fingers rolling over my hard nipples. “You’re the perfect one.”

  I close my eyes, knowing he has it so backward, but I don’t ever want to disagree with Emerson again. Of course, in time we will have disagreements, but I never want to hurt him with my words the way I did tonight. I want to be a better wife, a good, honorable woman. I have so much to learn, but as I move my hips against my husband's cock, taking in all the love he has for me. I make a vow, under the full moon, and the night stars, in his cozy bedroom in this lovely house -- to do better. To do my absolute best with this life I have been given, for however long I have been given it.

  I want to make a home for my husbands, for our babies.

  There are so many things out of my control. But there are other things that no one can take from me. I could focus on all that is wrong, or I could let myself be consumed with all that is right.

  And right now, as Emerson fills me with himself, as my body opens to his, I know this is exactly right.

  The days go by too quickly on the farm. I watch the men work in the fields and with the animals, and
I help Em’s mom in the kitchen. Although she won’t let me do too much, insisting I rest.

  But here, with the fresh air, and surrounded by love and laughter, I’m not as tired or nauseous as I had been back at the compound.

  “You should be napping,” Emerson says, kissing my cheek when he finds me in the kitchen, elbow deep in flour as I help roll out dough for tonight’s meat pies.

  “I feel great. Really.” I smile up at him reassuringly.

  “It’s the tea,” Grace says, “It’s infused with myosotis parviflora.”

  I frown. “With what?”

  “It’s a small flower found only on this island.”

  “Oh.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Don’t worry, dear, it’s safe. We’ve been using it for generations to help with morning sickness as well as many other ailments.”

  “Still...” I say, pushing the cup of freshly brewed tea away. “I think I should have Banks look at it in case it has any interactions with his treatments.”

  Grace opens her mouth and I think she’s going to argue, but I see the look Em gives her, and instead she turns back to her baking.

  “Sorry,” I say, hating that I may have hurt her feelings. “But with the complications of this pregnancy, I can’t take any risks.”

  Em places a hand on my shoulder. “I know. And our babies are going to be just fine.”

  “Babies?” Grace says with a gasp, turning back around quickly. “You’re having twins?”

  Damn. I hadn’t wanted to worry her. But I guess she was going to find out eventually.

  “Six, actually.”

  She just blinks at me, and for a moment I wonder if she might faint. Her hand goes to her chest, and her worried eyes fall on Emerson. “Six? But that’s...”

  “A miracle,” he provides, even though I know it’s not the word she was looking for.

  Grace forces a smile, but concern lingers in her gaze, even though she tries to play it off. “Six grandbabies. How wonderful.”

  Emerson squeezes my shoulder. “Which is one of the reasons I brought Tia here. I know you’ve had experience with multiples.” He looks down at me. “My mom used to be a midwife.”