A Second Chance at Forever

by Stewart, JM

  Touched by his words, she laid a hand against his chest. “Me too.”

  It had been a long time since she’d fallen asleep wrapped in a man’s embrace. In fact, the last time she had, the arms had been Alex’s. She had to admit she’d been looking forward to this moment all day. That fact scared her to death even as the temptation drew her in, because all she wanted was to crawl into his arms and stay there.

  Tonight felt different somehow. Something had shifted between them over the last two days. They were closer than they’d been three months ago, closer then they’d been even a week ago. Gone were the misgivings and hesitations. Companionship had taken its place. They were comfortable, as if they’d been together for years.

  For long moments, neither one moved, and awkwardness slowly filled the space around them. Alex let out a quiet, nervous laugh and rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I haven’t done this in a long time. I have to admit I find myself at a loss.”

  His quiet admission and the vulnerability that laced his tone gave Angela a sudden surge of boldness. She pressed herself closer, slid her hands around his ribcage and up his back. “What do you want?”

  Desire flared in his eyes, his arms tightening around her, until her breasts flattened against his chest. “The truth?”

  She nodded.

  “The same thing I want every time you’re in the same room with me—to lose myself in you. When I’m with you…” He let out a quiet groan and brushed his lips across hers. The evidence of his arousal throbbed against her belly, echoing the unbearable ache winding through her. “Everything else ceases to exist, and all I want to do is sink into you and never come out.”

  As abruptly as he’d kissed her, he pulled back. He shook his head, torment written on his face. “But considering where my head’s been this weekend, I don’t have the right to ask that much from you.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m content with the fact that you’re here at all.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. The man had no idea what he did to her, how his words, the sheer honesty of his admission, wrapped themselves around her heart and had it melting into a puddle at his feet.

  She nipped at his bottom lip and repeated the words he’d told her a few weeks ago. “I’m all yours, Alex.”

  As if he’d somehow been given the green light he’d been hoping for, a low groan rumbled out of him, and he seized her mouth. He kissed her hard, his mouth moving over hers, hungry, desperate, and unrestrained. His body trembled against hers. The sheer force of his desire did nothing but fuel her own, and she slanted her mouth over his, pouring herself into the exchange.

  To hell with tomorrow. She had now and a man who’d wrapped himself around her heart with how kind, considerate, and sweet he could be. She had no desire to deny herself the simple pleasure of being with him.

  In that kiss, a moment of consent slipped between them. Hands began to tear at clothing, shoving it out of the way, dropping or tossing pieces to the floor in their effort to seek out every available inch of skin. She shoved his shirt up his chest. He stepped back enough to pull it off over his head before dropping it to the floor and reclaiming her lips. His hands roamed down her sides, seemingly caught between seeking skin and working to open the stubborn button on the front of her shorts.

  As he tumbled her, naked and panting, to the bed a few minutes later, and crawled over her, tucking her beneath him, all sense of urgency fled. The tip of his erection nudged her entrance, but instead of sinking into her, Alex brushed her hair back from her face and sat for a moment, gazing down at her.

  Angela slid her hands up his back, enjoying the warmth of his body, skin against skin, the delicious weight of him. For a long moment, they lay together, legs entangled, neither saying anything. More intimacy flowed between them than anything she’d ever experienced with David. The room was a play of shadows. Soft light filtered in through the curtained windows from the street below, playing peek-a-boo with the room. A band of moonlight illuminated half of Alex’s face, casting the other in darkness.

  “You’re incredible, you know that?” He threaded his fingers in her hair and leaned down, pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth before pulling back again. “I’m not sure I would have made it through this weekend without you.”

  She shivered at his words, at the emotion wrenched from each one, and arched tighter against him, lifted her head and found his mouth. “Make love to me, Alex.”

  His low groan reverberated through his chest as he arched his hips, pushing inside of her. In one agonizingly slow thrust, he filled her, left her gasping and trembling, already teetering on the edge.

  “God, I need you, Ang.” He nipped at her bottom lip, whispering the words against her mouth. His body trembled against her. “I need you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, the only word she was capable of as she clutched his back, clinging to his heated body.

  As he stared down at her, rocking against her, moving slowly, carefully, within her, their gazes connected. An unspoken acknowledgement passed between them, silent but so tangible she felt an invisible wall shatter. Maybe they both had their reservations about their relationship. She had no idea what the future held for them, but there, in that moment, all that mattered was the need pounding through her.

  She needed this man, this intimate connection to him, a union of minds, hearts, and souls. All of which reflected back at her from the deep pools of his eyes.

  They moved at the same moment, surging suddenly together with a ferocity that stole the breath from her lungs. Alex reached down, slid a hand beneath her, and dropped his forehead into the curve of her neck, pressing his cheek against hers. His fingers dug into her backside, his hand pulling her somehow tighter against him, as if he wanted simply to crawl inside her skin.

  Angela wrapped her arms tight about his shoulders to hold him as close as she possibly could, lifted her head, and buried her face in his neck. The whole of him consumed her, inside of her, above her, his body moving against hers. The clean, spicy scent of his skin assaulted her senses, the salty tang of perspiration against her lips. She gave him everything she had and begged him for more. Alex groaned low in her ear, a sound of agony, torment, oblivion, and obliged, pushing harder, deeper. Like a starburst, her climax exploded through her, bright flashes of color streaking behind her closed eyelids.

  “Alex…” Her soft, needy gasp echoed through the silent night as she flew apart at the seams, shattered to the ends of the earth in a million hot little fragments. In that moment, aware only of his erratic breathing in her ear and his body shaking in unison with hers. She felt so vulnerable and yet so safe.

  They lay together moments later, their harsh breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room, still clinging to each other in the aftermath of an experience that felt more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced. Alex rolled to his side, taking her with him, and wrapped both arms tightly around her, his body still trembling. She tightened her own hold on him and buried her face in the curve of his throat, filling her lungs with his scent. She wanted it imbedded in her memory. Fear pounded in her breast, a sudden panic that if she let him go, he’d somehow disappear. In that moment, the painful truth rose over her, undeniable.

  She’d fallen in love with him.

  ****

  Angela woke hours later to a bright, sunlit room, still nestled in Alex’s embrace. He laid behind her now, his body like a second skin against her back, one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach. She lay still, gave herself a moment to luxuriate in the ultimate rightness of being with him this way, but she couldn’t ignore the thought throbbing at the back of her mind.

  She’d gone to sleep the night before telling herself it had to be hormones. She’d gotten caught up in the passion. People did it all the time, said things in the heat of the moment they didn’t mean by the light of a new day.

  Lying there now, she couldn’t run from the truth. Waking with nothing between them but the sunlight felt like coming home. Here
in his arms, she’d found the place her heart belonged. She was his, body and soul. This was where she wanted to be, to wake every morning for the foreseeable future to him.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Careful not to wake him, she rolled over to face him, lifted a hand, and traced his features, over the curve of his bisected eyebrow, down his nose, across his lips. With each stroke, the emotion swelled in her chest, unmistakable and undeniable.

  Somewhere over the weekend, she’d fallen in love with him.

  She bit her bottom lip hard in a vain attempt to stem its quivering as the unbearable pain gripped her chest. She’d sworn she was prepared for this possibility when she’d come out here, but the actuality of it was more than she’d anticipated as reality settled over her. She was desperately in love with a man who would never, could never, love her in return.

  Some part of her wished she could hate him. It would make it so much easier. How could she? He was a good man. That was why she loved him. She could blame no one but herself. Coming out here, she’d known his heart still belonged to the woman he’d promised his life to.

  A woman who wasn’t her. Nothing had been more clear than that this weekend.

  Tears flowing freely, her limbs now beginning to tremble, Angela threw back the covers and exited the bed. A desperate need to be somewhere—anywhere—else swelled to life within her. She needed to leave. Her flight left in a few hours, the blissful weekend had come to an end, but she wanted to be out of this house before Alex woke up. It was cowardly, and she knew it. She would have to face him sooner or later. They were having children together, and he would want to see them. But she needed time to get herself together, to somehow prepare herself for having to see him once the babies were born.

  She couldn’t force herself to do it now, however—to look into the same brown eyes she’d lost herself in last night and watch him break her heart. She’d had to watch David do that very thing. She didn’t have the strength to do it again.

  Shaking from head to toe, she searched the room, finding her clothing. Each piece she pulled on brought with it the memory of how it had gotten onto the floor in the first place and Angela thought for sure her chest would simply split open wide. She would miss him. Terribly. Miss everything about him.

  As she pulled her shirt on over her head and went to exit the room, she made the mistake of glancing back. The sight of him pulled at her. She found herself returning to the bed. Leaning over his prone body, she kissed him gently, savored the feel of his mouth against hers one last time, the way he moaned softly in his sleep and reached for her. Then she turned, bit down hard on her bottom lip, using the physical pain as a distraction, and quietly left the room.

  She got as far as the front door when he called to her from behind.

  “Ang?”

  Dread sank like a stone in her stomach. Her fingers reflectively squeezed the knob. The tears she’d barely held in check renewed themselves, dripping down her cheeks.

  Oh God, I don’t know if I have the strength to do this…

  She swiped at her eyes, prepared herself for what she knew was to come, what she had to do, and made herself face him.

  He stood at the edge of the living room, wearing a pair of gray pajama bottoms, confusion knitting his brow. “Where are you going?”

  The sight of him was more than she could bear. Pain squeezed the air from her lungs. Her knees wobbled as a wave of weakness washed through her. How could she leave him when she needed him so very much?

  “I can’t do this, Alex,” she said, her voice trembling as the emotion bubbled over, “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  He seemed to understand something was wrong, for he took a few, careful steps toward her, as if approaching a scared rabbit. “Do what, sweetheart?”

  The term of endearment sliced at her insides. She turned away from him, from the unbearable confusion on his face, and wrapped her arms around herself. “Oh God I know it’s selfish. So incredibly selfish. But I can’t go back there again. I can’t spend my life in love with a man who doesn’t love me.”

  “Ang, you’re talking in circles. Sit down and—”

  “I love you.” She blurted the words on a trembling voice as she pivoted toward him. His face blurred before her.

  For a long, unbearable moment, silence filled the air, tension mounting between them, thick and impenetrable. They’d been so close last night. She’d slept warm and safe in his arms, but suddenly a chasm opened between them. Once again he was the stranger.

  Alex froze where he stood, staring at her. He looked…stunned. His eyes widened and searching hers as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. Then something shifted within him. He moved further into the room, dropping as if weighted by an anchor onto the edge of the recliner in the living room.

  It wasn’t until that moment, as she watched him brace his elbows on his knees and drag his hands through his hair, that she realized how much she wanted—needed—to hear him say the words back. As the seconds ticked by, Angela found herself holding her breath and crossing everything she had as she waited for his response.

  When he finally lifted his head she knew she’d gotten her answer. Somewhere deep down, she’d expected this possibility. How could she not? The day he’d asked her to marry him, he’d told her he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to tell her he loved her.

  Seeing the pain and regret shining like beacons from the depths of his eyes still struck her like a fist to the stomach. A wound ripped open in her chest. The breath rushed from her lungs.

  He rose to his feet and shook his head. “Ang, I—”

  “Don’t.” Blinking back the tears that refused to stop filling her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself and backed away. “Oh, God, don’t. I couldn’t bear to hear you say it. I have to go. I need to go.”

  Needing to leave, before he tried to stop her, before she let him, before she ended up in the same place she’d already been, she turned toward the door, but he was faster. Just as she reached for the knob, his hand closed around hers and halted her in her tracks.

  “Please stay and talk to me.” He tugged her back to him while at the same time moving around in front of her, then took both hands in his own, as if to hold her there. His gaze searched hers, a wild, almost desperation that matched the tone of his voice. “I can’t just let you leave like this.”

  “Then tell me you love me,” she whispered, her voice shaking with the emotion she barely managed to hold in check.

  Hope surged in her chest, impossible yet undeniable, as she waited. He stared at her, then shook his head, dejected.

  “I can’t. Not yet. I’m just not there yet.” He took a step forward, closed the miniscule space between them, so close his body brushed hers and his masculine scent assaulted her senses. His warm palms slid over her cheeks. The slow, torturous stroke of his thumbs over her skin forced her to hold his gaze. “I need time, Ang.”

  His face blurred before her. She bit her lip to stem its quivering, struggling with the tide of emotion that washed over her. How desperately she wanted to fall into those arms, press her cheek to that bare chest. But her heart was splitting in two, the pieces already chinking off and falling at her feet.

  “What if you never get there? What if she was it for you? Mom never found anyone else after Dad died. She’s spent her life alone.” She shook her head, backed away from the sweet temptation of Alex and folded her arms across her chest, the only barrier she had against him. “I was married to a man who fell in love with someone else. Married to a man who stopped loving me long before he ever left me. I can’t go through that again. I can’t wait around wondering—”

  “I’m not David, dammit.” His brow twisted in anger. His hands seized her waist, yanked her against him. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I would never hurt you that way.”

  Pain filled his voice, twisted at the knife in her belly, but called to her like a beacon. Despite the unbearable ache in her chest, she couldn’t stop herself from reach
ing up to touch his cheek, to somehow soothe the impossible wound.

  “No. No you aren’t. You’re a better man than David could ever hope to be.” She shook her head. “But the result is the same. I’m in love with you, and you can’t say it back. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to say those words to me, and I can’t pretend that that isn’t tearing me apart. She has pieces of you I can’t touch, Alex.”

  His hand dropped to the soft swell of her stomach, his voice thick with emotion. “So do you.”

  Several hot tears escaped to slip down her cheeks. She laid a hand on his chest, over his heart. “But I want this. I need you to tell me you love me too.”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said again. “I’m not ready yet.”

  Another piece of her heart chinked off and fell to the floor, the pain shredding her insides. She forced herself to release the minute contact, every inch of her rebelling against it. She took several steps back from the sweet temptation he presented. It was better this way, for all of them.

  “I need time, Alex.” She backed toward the door, seized by a need to leave, to be anywhere but there with the awful pain that sat between them. “Please don’t contact me. I’ll call you.”

  “I want to be there when they’re born, Ang.”

  She nodded. “I’ll call you. I promise. But for now…I just need time.”

  He nodded, relenting. She opened the door and left the house. As she emerged into the long hallway, the pain flooded her. Her knees refused to hold her up any longer. She sank back against the wood, taking strength in its solidness, as she struggled to breathe. A year ago she’d divorced David, had sworn to herself she would never put herself in this position again. Yet here she was, in love with a man who didn’t love her. The worst part? She’d become closer to Alex than she’d ever gotten to David. Somehow this wound was sharper, deeper, the pieces more jagged. How would she ever get used to seeing him again?