"You know that I don't want to wait another day," I spit back. "We were supposed to work on our wedding plans after we got back from Paris. We haven't even picked a date yet."
He turns quickly on his heel, the apple that drops from his hands rolls off the edge of the counter. "My mind's been on other things, Bridget. I went back to work because I want to provide for us. I thought you understood that."
My hands drop to my stomach. "I know you have a lot to deal with. Maybe if we talked about it more we could work through it together."
"What's there to talk about?" He bends down to scoop the bruised fruit into his palm. "My father avoided me for most of my life. He made a choice to leave me. Is that what you want to talk about?"
I nod. "I want you to tell me how you feel so I can help you."
"You can't help me." He tosses the apple into the sink; the resulting dull thud only punctuates the sound of his voice. "No one can help me. I wasn't worth it. He didn't think me or Landon was worth it so he bailed on us."
There it is. There's the weight that has been pulling at his heart since the day we got back to New York. I've known it was there masked beneath his handsome grin and his concerns about our baby's well-being.
"He was selfish, Dane," I offer as I take a step towards him. "I doubt it had anything to do with you or your brother. I think he was just really selfish and driven by greed."
"You don't know that." His voice carries the same despair that his face does. "Tell me right now if you could leave our baby. Tell me if you could do it, Bridget."
I have to answer honestly. The thought of abandoning my own child makes me sick to my stomach. I can't even fully wrap my mind around the idea of it. Once I'm holding this baby in my arms, I'm never letting go. I'm going to be there whenever it needs me until I take my last breath.
"Answer me," he pushes. "Do you think you could just walk away from your own child?"
"No," I answer softly. "I wouldn’t do that."
"I wouldn't either." He rubs his hand over his brow. "I will never leave my child because I already love it more than I've loved anything on this earth."
I swallow hard, emotions pouring through me. "We will love our baby. We'll be the best parents ever."
"I bet he said that too before Landon was born. I bet he said the same thing when I was born."
"What?" I ask not sure I'm completely following what he's saying. He's shaking. I want to walk across the room and grab hold of him but my better sense is telling me that he needs to find his own strength right now.
"He stuck around for years, Bridget. He was there when I was a baby, and a toddler. He taught me how to ride a bike and throw a baseball. He didn't bail until I was a teenager. That's when he stopped loving me."
I don't know what to say to him. I'm mad at Frederick for what he's done to his sons. I'm livid over the fact that he left a boy who needed him because of his selfish greed. He's taken something from the man that I love that I can't fix, regardless of how badly I want to.
"You didn't do anything to make him stop loving you, Dane." I hear the crack in my own voice as I try to level my emotions. It's futile though. I can't help but sense the pain that he's in and it's impacting me too. "What your father did came from his selfish needs. He's the only one to blame."
"How does a man do that?" he asks through a loud sob. "How does a man leave behind his wife and two children like that?"
I move quickly, scooping my arms around his neck as he slumps to the floor. I hold him, crawling in his lap as we both sit on the kitchen floor, holding each other while we cry for everything he lost and everything that might have been.
Chapter 8
"Have you decided on which portraits you're going to show at the gallery?" Dane walks into our spare room with a plate of cheese and crackers and a chilled bottle of water. "I'm still open to helping you decide if you want my input."
I smile at his offering. He's been exhausted every day after work. I can't say I'm surprised by that. In Paris, his schedule consisted mainly of a morning run through the city followed by cleaning our apartment or reading a book. He relaxed while we were there and now that we're back and he's working full-time, his body still has to catch up to the physical demands his job places on him. He's adjusting back into his life, just as I'm adjusting into mine.
"It would help a lot to have your opinion." I turn back towards the bed where I've laid out a dozen portraits I drew last year. Dane's far from an art expert, but he sees what I see in my portraits. He recognizes the emotions beneath the pencil's shadings. He sees the life experience that I've pulled into the lines around the eyes and the mouths of the people I've drawn. He values my work more than anyone I know. I sometimes wonder if he cherishes my gift to draw even more than I do.
"There's someone else who offered to help you get ready for the show." He places the plate and bottle of water on the bedside table.
His words surprise me enough that I push one of the portraits aside so I can sit on the bed. "Who? Is it Zoe or Vanessa?"
It actually wouldn't be much of a shock if either of my close friends offered to help at Dane's urging. I know both would do anything they could to help me or my fiancé right now. Although Vanessa and I didn't talk about what's happened with Dane's father and the charges he's facing, I could see the compassion in her eyes and feel it in her touch when she hugged me when I arrived at the hospital to visit her. Dane's a proud man though, so asking anyone else for help, isn't something he often does.
"No, it's not your friends." He rakes his hand through his hair as he lowers himself to sit next to me. "It's actually my mom."
"Your mom?" I almost hear the shriek in my own voice. "Your mother wants to help me?"
He nods slowly, his eyes floating over the portraits. "She hasn't stopped talking about these since she went back to Boston. She's impressed with your work, Bridget. She wants to help you."
"What did she say about them?" Containing my curiosity isn't going to work right now. I've long wanted a close relationship with Dane's mom but I've known that her friendship with his ex-fiancé was the stalling point for that. I've tried to respect her relationship with Maisy even though I'm the one who is going to be a part of her family soon.
"She asked if she could buy one." He chuckles deeply. "I told her you wouldn't want that. You'd want to give her one."
"Of course." I reach towards a portrait I drew before we left for Paris. It's a young woman. My eyes sprint across the bed to one of a small boy who was playing with toy cars in Central Park. I'd asked his mother if I could draw him and she'd nodded absentmindedly with a flip of her hand in the air, as she talked non-stop on her smartphone. The boy had stood next to me with his small hand on my knee as I'd finished the fine lines of his hair before his mother pulled on his collar and lead him away. "She can have any of these. Or I can draw her. I'd love to draw your mom."
"I've been thinking about that." His gaze drops to my stomach before it settles back on my face. "I thought for her birthday next year you could draw a portrait of her holding the baby. He'll be here by then. He'll be a few months old by then."
We haven't found out whether our baby is a boy or girl yet. We will in a few weeks but that hasn’t stopped Dane from calling the baby a boy. I smile softly. "Or she. I'd love to draw your mom and our baby."
"I'll tell her that. She'll be happy."
I know his mother's happiness means the world to him. I hear him talking on the phone to her often. He's gentle, loving and tender and tells her how much he needs her each time he says goodbye to her.
As focused as I've been on helping Dane deal with his father's unforgivable betrayal, I can't help but think about Anja often and how she must feel. She still wears the wedding band that Frederick placed on her finger so many years ago. Her devotion to him was unwavering until now. She lost much more than her life's partner and the father of her children. She's lost her life's purpose and decades to a man who abandoned her and her children.
"I'd l
ove your mom's help," I offer sincerely. I suspect that Anja's drive for perfection is exactly what I need to make my showing the best it can be. I also know that spending more time with her will give her something she needs right now. If my gallery showing can become a distraction to the turmoil in her life, I want it to be. It may not be the ideal circumstances for the two of us to spend more time together, but it's a start and it will definitely benefit me.
"Seriously?" He cocks a dark brow. "You know how my mother can be, right? She's going to take over."
I look past him to the portraits on the bed and the box filled with portraits sitting on the floor. "I need someone exactly like that to help me. Call her tomorrow and tell her I'm ready whenever she is."
Chapter 9
"I'm ready, Bridget." The words are wrapped so tightly into a moan that I can't be sure I heard them correctly.
I run my tongue over the tip of his cock while I grip tightly to the base. "What did you say?"
His hands tangle in my hair. "I'm so close. I'm really close."
I don't need him to tell me that. I can sense it not only by the sound of his breathing but I can feel it in his flesh. He's harder now. He's throbbing and each time I take him into my mouth, his hips buck. He wants to gift me with his release. I want that too.
I groan loudly as I slide my mouth over him. I feel his body tense before he pulls back just a touch.
"Bridget, please," he whispers the words into the darkness of our bedroom. "I want to fuck you so badly."
I want that too. I've wanted it since we took a bath together after he came home from work. He'd gotten the tub ready for me before he lowered himself in behind me. He'd washed my body slowly, taking extra care around my tender nipples and stomach. By the time he reached my core, I was so aroused that it only took a few strokes of his fingers over my clit before the orgasm overtook me. I'd held tightly to him wanting the moment to last.
Once he dried my body I'd fallen to my knees to take him into my mouth. I wanted to give him what he'd given me but as soon as I felt him growing beneath my touch, my body craved more. Now, with him this close to his own release, I need this intimate taste of him.
"Yes, please," he hisses the words between clenched teeth as he pushes his hips forward.
I pull back just a touch so he can watch as I take everything he gives to me and as he falls over the edge, I moan knowing that I love this man more than life itself.
***
"I think it's great that Dane's mom is going to help you with the gallery stuff." Zoe leans forward in the car's seat to tap the driver on the shoulder. "I gave you the address, right? You have it?"
"You gave it to me when we left your apartment, Mrs. Beck." He steals a glimpse at both of us in the rear view mirror. "Sit back and relax. I'll have you there in no time."
I pat Zoe on her knee as she settles back, pulling the seat belt around her chest again. "You're nervous. This must be a big case."
She nods as her eyes jut from my face to the street. "I've never taken on such a big role before. They haven't given anything like this to any of the other students."
Zoe's been working hard to prove herself at the law firm she's interning at. Being a lawyer is her goal and with all the extra work she's been taking on lately, I have no doubt that if I ever happen to break the law, my best friend will be my first phone call. She's professional and confident. She's really come into her own. I noticed that as soon as I got back from Paris.
"I'm proud of you," I say with conviction. "I don't know how you do it all. You're a great mom, you go to school and you work hard."
"That means a lot to me." She smiles. "If Vane is as proud of me one day as you are, it will all be worth it."
I haven't given birth yet but I sense that I'll feel the same about my own child. I want to sculpt my career so I have time for Dane, the baby and my passion. I don't anticipate giving up drawing when I become a mom. Instead, I picture myself bundling the baby into a stroller and taking a walk to find inspiration. I'm determined to work hard every single day to have the life I've always wanted.
"He will be," I offer back. "How could he not be? You're a powerhouse."
"So are you. Beck told me it's rare for a new artist to get a showing all to themselves." She runs her index finger along her bottom lip smudging her lipstick. "I don't think you realize how successful you're going to be, Bridge."
I reach forward to wipe the wayward lipstick with my thumb. "As long as I can help pay the bills with my drawings, I'll be happy."
Her hand catches mine as her eyes fall to my fingers. "You don't have a ring yet. I thought you and Dane were going to pick one out."
I thought that too but with everything that has been going on, an engagement ring has fallen to the bottom of my priority list. I don't need a symbol on my hand that shows the world that I'm marrying the man of my dreams. I haven't pushed him on the subject, because I know it will happen when he wants it to. Dane loves me. He's committed to me. That's all that matters.
"We're going to figure that out soon." I chuckle as I pull my hand away. "I'm really not comfortable with Dane spending too much on a ring right now. We're saving to buy a place of our own."
"With the way your career is going, you're going to have both," she says before she taps the driver on the shoulder again. "Are we almost there? I don't want to be late."
Chapter 10
"This is your client's office?" I peer at the quiet, residential street. We're in Queens now and judging by the large trees and charming houses, it's an escape from Manhattan that is welcome for everyone who lives here. "Your client's office is in a house?"
"He's an architect," she mutters under her breath. "His office is in mid-town. He lives here."
I nod, not really understanding why she had to trek out here to see him if he works only a few blocks from where she does.
"I'm just picking up some files." Her hands run over the skirt of her dress. "It's a personal case we're working on. It's not related to his corporation."
"I see," I say because I suddenly feel embarrassed. I know that Zoe can't go into details about the actual cases she's been assigned to help on. She's shared bits and pieces in the past but they haven't meant anything to me other than that they've proven to me how much she values the trust the clients of her firm place in her. "I guess I'll just wait here for you?"
"That would be great." She slides her fingers across the screen of her smartphone. "I made a reservation for an early dinner for us back in the city. We can go there right from here."
I nod. "I'll call my mom while I wait."
"I won't be more than ten minutes." She taps my forearm, before she steps out of the car door the driver is holding open for her. "I'll be back before you know it."
***
"Bridget?"
I turn towards the sound of Zoe's voice. It's been well over an hour since she walked through the door of her client's house. I'd called my mother before I told her driver that I was going to take a walk so I could stretch my legs. I had only made it around the corner before I stopped.
I've been standing in the same spot for more than twenty minutes. It's a spot that I feel drawn to. It's a spot where I belong.
"You're crying." She wipes one of the lingering tears from my cheeks. "Did something happen? I'll call the driver to bring the car here."
"No," I whisper softly as I bat her hand away from her phone. "I'm fine. I'm really fine."
"You're standing in the middle of a sidewalk crying." She wraps her arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to her. "That's not fine."
"Look." I sweep my hand in front of me. "Tell me what you see."
Her eyes scan my face before she turns. "I see a blue house. I see a roof that needs to be repaired and a lawn that has seen much better days."
"No." I push open the small wooden gate to take a step inside the yard. "Look again."
Her brow furrows as she takes a step towards me. "I see a For Sale sign. Tell me what you see."
Her eyes are locked on my face. "Bridget."
"I see my mom and dad coming out of a taxi and running up this path to the front door on Christmas Eve. I see my life. This is my house."
"You want to live here?" She motions towards the street. "We're in Queens. Didn't Dane live in Queens right before you met him? Now you want to live here too?"
"I see it now." I turn directly towards her. "I see what he saw. I can see us here. I can see my family growing up here. I see Dane and me on that porch when we're too old to remember living anywhere else."
She slides her thumb across her smartphone. "I'm calling a friend of Beck's. He's a broker. He'll be able to take you and Dane inside so you can see if it's really what you want."
"It is." I smile wildly. "This is exactly what I want."
Chapter 11
"You don't mean that, Bridget." Dane pulls the navy blue t-shirt he's been wearing all day over his head. "You don't want to move away from Manhattan."
"I do." I hold my hands together to calm the constant shakiness I feel. "Wait until you see it, Dane. It's so perfect."
"I thought you loved the energy of the city." He leans against the kitchen table, his hands resting against its edge.
He can't possibly know how gorgeous he is. Even now, after he's spent hours at work, and sat in the crowded doctor's waiting room with me, he still looks as handsome as he always does. I know he'll always be the most beautiful person in the world to me.
"There's just something about that house." I brush past him to grab a glass from the cupboard before moving to the refrigerator to retrieve the orange juice. "I wasn't even thinking about moving to Queens until I saw it. It's home. I feel it inside of me."
EMBER - The Free Novella Page 3
