by Grace Owens
“I thought you said you never dated,” I said sceptically.
“I don’t. Not until you at least.” He looked up at me and I knew what he meant. Oh. “I guess in her mind we were dating if we fucked exclusively. I never cheated on her, or you for that matter. We had been told from a young age that we were to be married and it seems as if she didn’t listen when I told her we were over once and for all.”
“What about your parents? I mean, if you had been betrothed to someone, why would they welcome me?”
“My mom had been set to marry someone when she ran away with my dad.” My eyes shot up in surprise at that. I would have never guessed that and if it wasn’t for the situation we were currently in, I don’t think I would have believed it. “Yeah, it’s not something she talks about very often. Anyway, that was why my grandfather sort of disowned her and wanted nothing to do with me being named after him. He came around after a couple of years and since he failed with his daughter, he decided to do it all over with me instead. My mom stood by it, but I have a feeling she would have stopped it all if we had ever made it down the aisle.”
“Why not just tell him no?”
“Because for some fucked up reason, I wanted his approval. Besides, I didn’t really care until you showed up. I just figured it was all void and null when he passed away. Sure, me and Tawnya still got together every once in a while, but it was more about familiarity and habit on my part.”
“So you never slept with her after you married me?” If everything he had told me was the truth - which I believed it was - then that was all that really mattered. As he had once said, we both had our pasts and there was nothing we could do to change that.
“No,” he said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation. “The last time we fucked was a few weeks before I met you in Vegas.”
“Okay,” I said, trying not to show how much that information bothered me. It might have happened before we got married, but I still didn’t like how candid he was about it.
“Okay?” he asked surprised. I had to admit, I was surprised at how easy it was to agree, too. “You agree to start over?”
“Well, we can’t really start over because we have a daughter.”
“Right,” he said with a huge, proud smile. “We do.”
“And I’m going to need your help when we get home from the hospital,” I continued. “But a date sounds nice.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Again, he smiled and it took my breath away to see him so happy. “Just don’t be too surprised if I end up proposing on the first date.”
“I never signed the papers so that would be pointless.”
“You didn’t? Why not?”
Even though my pride took a hit, I admitted, “Because it didn’t feel right.”
“So you love me too much to let me go, huh?” he asked smugly.
“Don’t get too cocky,” I warned. “We still can’t go back to what we were. You still hurt me and while I will eventually be able to let this whole Tawnya thing go, you broke my trust by not telling me about her.”
“I know,” he sighed remorsefully. “Trust me, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. I’ll even sleep on the couch.”
“I think that’s a good idea. And once I’m healed, I’ll let you take me out on that date, too.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking my hand in his and placing an intimate kiss on the inside of my wrist. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for never giving up on me, you stubborn ass,” I said with a genuine smile.
Who would have thought that I would ever say thank you to Cailean Baker, my high school bully? The thing was, he wasn’t my bully anymore.
He was Cailean Baker.
My husband.
Epilogue
↞ 2 years later ↠
◆◆◆
CAILEAN
I HAD BEEN eleven when I first saw her. She had been wearing denim overalls and a pink t-shirt with some sort of Disney princess on it. Her hair had been a complete fucking mess with brown curls everywhere. Her nose had been buried in a book, but as she looked up at me with her bright blue eyes, my world had stopped for a minute.
Gertrude Anderson.
Gertie Baker.
My wife.
The mother of my child.
The woman who held my heart in her delicate hands and wasn’t afraid to squeeze it every once in a while.
A decade and a half later and she still blew me away. She was currently standing in front of the mirror in my childhood bathroom as I watched her from the doorway. She was messing with her hair, but I didn’t see the point - it was beautiful as it was. Just like her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said as I walked up to her, circling my arms around her waist and settled a kiss on her neck.
She looked up and rolled her eyes at me, telling me without words that I was being ridiculous. I told her several times a day how gorgeous she was and what she did to me. She never believed me and it made me sad to think that she didn’t see what I saw.
“Why are we even going to this stupid thing anyway?” she grumbled, leaning into my embrace.
“Because I want to brag about the amazing wife I somehow scored,” I answered with a chuckle, only kind of joking. It still amazed me how I had managed to keep this amazing person in my life.
“I thought it was the other way around,” she said with a small smile. I bent down and gave her a kiss; I just simply couldn’t help myself. “I just want to see the look on their faces when they see us together.”
We were getting ready to go to our high school reunion. It hadn’t been something I had ever planned on going to, because why the hell would I? A few years ago I might have entertained the idea of making an appearance simply to see if I could catch a glimpse at Gertie; if she would even have showed up which was highly unlikely. But now… now I had her and I didn’t need to see or catch up with anyone who might be there.
“You know, most of them probably already know that we’re married,” I told her, pinning her to the vanity. She was wearing one of those long ass dresses, but a dress nonetheless, so my mind and my cock had already figured out by now that it meant easy access. A quickie had never hurt anyone before.
“Don’t ruin the fun for me,” she said, trailing off on a moan as my hands glided up her smooth thighs.
“I would never.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, but she pressed her ass into my crotch, which led me to believe that she knew exactly what I was about to do. “Do we even have time for that?”
Almost three years together and she still had a hard time saying anything remotely dirty. It was a fucking miracle that she had managed to stay so innocent, but I loved her more for it.
“I always have time for you, baby,” I whispered and nibbled on her earlobe.
She did have a point, though, and as much as I wanted to take her to my bed, I would have to settle on fucking her on the counter instead. These days, improvised sex was basically the only way we got to do it. I wouldn’t change a thing and there was something sexy about having Gertie pressed up against the counter as if we were doing something we weren’t supposed to. As if we were hiding. Which I guess we sort of were.
“Turn around, I wanna see you,” I demanded.
“What, the mirror isn’t enough for you?” She gave me a smirk, but still did what I had told her to do. I knew she liked it when I fucked her from behind, but I needed her closer this time for some reason.
“You know I would take you any way I could,” I told her and helped her sit on the counter. It was the perfect height and I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy as she wrapped her legs around me. I didn’t even bother removing our clothing - I needed to be inside her now - and only pulled her panties to the side before unzipping my pants.
She let out a hiss as I entered her and I knew I should have spent some time working her up, but I wanted her too bad. I hadn’t been able to think of anything but being inside
her. I tried taking it slow as I worked myself in and out until I was as far inside her as I could get.
“You feel so good,” she whispered huskily and bit my lip.
“Christ,” I cursed when she squeezed my cock, something she had been working on the last couple of months. It was some sort of exercise she had read about and while it felt amazing as hell, I didn’t want to come within two minutes of entering her. “You got to stop doing that, baby.”
“Mm, I kinda like torturing you.” She smiled coyly at me before she started kissing my neck, no doubt leaving a mark as if we were a couple of horny teenagers. “And we both know you love it.”
“I love every minute of it,” I told her honestly because it was true; it was the most wonderful kind of torture.
I started moving, doing my best to go slow so that she could adjust, but again, she did that fucking squeezing thing with her pussy and going slow went out the window. I pulled down her dress, exposing her beautiful tits. I alternated between sucking on them and watching them bounce with my thrusts.
“Cailean.”
Bloody hell, I loved it when she said my name like that and it made me pick up my speed, knowing that she was close. The feel of her pussy gripping me in a vice grip as she came made my eyes roll back into my head in pleasure.
Fuck.
“I love you,” I said on a groan, planting myself to fucking deep inside her there was no way she didn’t feel my release. Her legs were still wrapped tightly around me as if she didn’t want me to go just yet. She didn’t need to worry - I could have stayed inside her forever if it had been possible. Which it obviously wasn’t, as proven by what I heard just a minute after we had finished.
“Mama!”
I could hear Isobel outside the door and cursed; the kid sure had good timing. At least we had been able to finish this time, but I wanted to hold Gertie for just a minute and maybe help her clean up.
“It’s okay, babe,” Gertie said soothingly, running her hands through my hair in the way only she knew how to.
“I swear I love that girl,” I promised, gently pulling out of her. “But at this rate, I’ll never knock you up again.”
Gertie had finally agreed to have another baby when Isobel had reached 18 months. That was over six months ago and still fucking nothing. I knew it took time for most couples, but since it had happened the first time for us with Isobel, I expected her to end up with my baby in her belly at least within the first few months.
“It’ll happen,” Gertie assured me, pulling me in for a kiss before she let me zip my pants back up. “You go see what she wants and I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I love you, you know that, right?” I said, cupping her rosy cheeks in my hands. This was the look I loved the most – freshly and thoroughly fucked.
“I know, and I love you, too,” she said and just like every time she said those three words, my heart swelled just a little bit more. “Now, shoo so I can finish getting ready in peace.”
I left her, but not before kissing her first. I couldn’t get enough of her, even after three years together.
Damn, three years already.
It sure didn’t feel like it, and as if I needed a reminder of how much time had passed, my two-year-old daughter barreled right into my legs as soon as I opened the door. I made sure the bathroom door was closed before I picked her up.
“Mama?” she asked, looking at me with her big, blue eyes that were a replica of her mom’s.
“What, Daddy’s not good enough for you?” I asked, tickling her lightly before I hugged her to me. Her brown curls smelled like sugar cookies, probably from baking with my mom earlier.
“No. Mama,” she said with determination in her voice. She wasn’t very talkative yet, but she sure had her stubbornness down by now. It wasn’t much of a surprise, really, considering who her parents were.
“She’ll be out in a minute. How about we find grandma?”
“Yes. Gamma!” she said with a squeal.
Hey, at least she forgot about mommy for a second. The art of distraction is key in parenting.
“Where is grandma, anyway?”
It didn’t take long before we found her walking down the hallway toward my room, a look of relief on her face when she saw us.
“I swear, that child of yours…” she muttered, but I could see and hear the smile in her voice. “She was helping me with the laundry and then poof she’s gone.”
“Hence the reason as to why we have a baby gate in almost every room,” I told her, understanding exactly how my daughter could be. Most days the gates did nothing for our little escape artist, but it slowed her down.
“Where’s Gertie? I wanted to talk to her about something before you guys left,” she said and took Isobel from me.
“It better not be about the wedding,” I warned her.
After Isobel’s birth, we had started over just like we said we would. However, that only lasted the six weeks until Gertie could have sex again. I’d tried to be a saint and she had tried to hide her want for me, but in the end, we had both just said “fuck it” and gone back to being married. Okay, Gertie might not have said it like that, but the result was still the same - she went back to being my wife and I was back to being her husband. Just like it was supposed to be.
My mom had tried to talk her into having a ceremony, but Gertie had firmly told her that if we ever made it to our tenth anniversary, only then would she entertain that idea.
I loved the woman, but there would be no if we make it. I would make sure we made it.
“Of course not; the wedding is already planned. I’m just waiting for her to tell me she’s ready for it.” Of course it was already planned. My mother was a party planner after all. “I just wanted to ask her if Isobel needs anything. Sheila from up the street has a granddaughter that’s just a little older, so she has a bunch of hand me downs.”
“And why couldn’t you just ask me?”
“Cailean,” she chided and rolled her green eyes at me. “We both know you wouldn’t be able to answer that.”
She had a point… somewhat. As far as Isobel’s clothes and shit went, I just mostly went with whatever Gertie had in her closet. I knew better than to mess with it.
“Fine,” I huffed just as Gertie stepped out of my bedroom. She had put herself together and pulled her hair up in a ponytail, but she still had that glow about her she got every time after sex.
She’s stunning, I thought to myself as I followed the girls down the stairs, only half listening as they discussed what Isobel needed.
“Give me kisses,” I demanded from my daughter as we were getting ready to leave.
“No,” she said in a sing-song voice but still placed a sloppy kiss on my lips. They were my favorite.
“Have fun and make sure to give grandma and grandpa hell, okay?” I joked and set her down on her feet, following her into the kitchen where Gertie was still chatting with my mom.
“Cookie,” Isobel said and Gertie bent down to pick her up so that she could reach a cookie from the counter.
I loved seeing them together. Not just my wife and my daughter, but the three most important women in my life. Our road to ge where we were hadn’t been easy, but it was all worth it.
“You ready to get this shit over with?” I asked.
“Cailean,” my mom scolded.
“Sure,” Gertie said with a giggle. “Let me just finish my peanut butter toast?”
I frowned, unsure if I had heard her correctly because Gertie hated peanut butter. She always complained whenever I ate it around her, stating that the smell of it made her want to gag.
A smile replaced my frown when I thought about the reasons that would cause her weird behavior. There was only one thing that made sense.
Fuck, just the thought of her carrying my child again did all kinds of crazy things to me and my cock. While there were a lot of mistakes made when she was pregnant with Isobel, I wouldn’t change a thing because it made our relationship what i
t was today. Sure, we had our fucking flaws and shit, but who didn’t? I always knew we would be great together and I was so bloody happy that she had finally realized that, too, because she was mine forever. Just like I had always been hers.
↞ The End ↠
Author’s Note
◆◆◆
Dear Reader,
Gertie and Cailean’s story has been with me since I was a teenager. It all started as a way to process what I had experienced in high school. Bullying is not easy and I realize that this story sort of romanticizes an unacceptable behavior that has become a normal occurance for children and teenagers. But I’m also hoping that Gertie and Cailean’s journey will make people see that there’s always two sides to every story. I wrote this book as a closure for myself and a decade later, I feel as if I’m ready to put it all behind me.
As I mentioned earlier, it’s been a decade since I first started writing this book and it has gone through numerous rewrites and changes. There’s always going to be things I want to change about it, but I felt as if it was time I shared it with other people. I never realized how hard it would be to put myself out there and let people read my words, but I’m hoping it will bring at least someone some peace.
If you liked it, or even if you didn’t, please take a minute to leave a review. I am forever grateful that you decided to take a chance on my book; thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading Always Yours.
Love,
Grace
About the Author
◆◆◆
Grace Owens is an author who just recently started publishing her books, letting people hear her words through words. She has been enjoying writing and reading since she was a teenager. When she’s not working her boring 9-5 job, she enjoys consuming and decorating cookies.
She decided to chase the American dream and leave Europe a handful of years ago. She is currently living in rainy Washington with her husband and two kids.
