Ren and Della: Boxed Set (Ribbon Duet Book 3)

by Pepper Winters

  Ren patted his back. “You’re welcome. I can show you what each thing does if you want?”

  “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve played with one of yours before.”

  “Oh, you have, have you?” Ren raised an eyebrow in my direction, smirking. “Told you, Della. Our son isn’t a kid anymore.”

  I stood, brushing leaves off my ass. A few floated into the fire with a quick whoosh of fuel. I laughed again, forcing happiness. “Fine. What do I know? Ten seems to be the new adult these days.”

  Ren chuckled.

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Leaving them to discuss blade points and miniature saw skills, I secretly pulled the Tupperware container out of the backpack and went to hide by the tent to stab ten candles into the poor vanilla pony.

  With my pocketed lighter, I lit them all then headed back carrying the birthday dessert singing, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to, Jacob! Happy birthday to you.”

  Jacob groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Ugh, no singing, Mom. That’s just embarrassing.”

  Ren ruffled his blond head, tugging his son’s small ear. “Never take these moments for granted, Wild One. It’s these that you’ll remember forever.” His dark eyes met mine and once again, the fracturing brokenness inside threatened to overwhelm me.

  Tearing my gaze away, I cleared my throat and dropped to my haunches, delivering the cake to Jacob. “Make a wish and blow them out.”

  Squeezing his eyes tight, Jacob paused for a moment, then, as serious as if he sat an exam, he blew all ten out in one breath.

  Ren grabbed the knife that was forever wedged in his boot, placed the blade in the fire for a few seconds to sterilize it, then cut off the pony’s head and gave it to Jacob. “Birthday boy gets first bite.”

  “Thanks.” Jacob shoved it in his face, icing going everywhere.

  Ren and I laughed, sharing another heart-warming, heart-breaking look as he passed me a leg and he had the tail.

  We ate quietly for a bit, enjoying the sugar, remembering our first birthday together where cupcakes had been our first taste of refined goodness instead of the fructose found in fruit.

  So much had happened since then, yet it felt as if nothing had happened at all.

  Ren was still a forest dweller, and I was still madly in love with him.

  I’d been in love with him for thirty-two years, and it wasn’t enough.

  It would never be enough.

  Sucking in a shaky breath, I scooted closer to Ren. He smiled sadly, coughing a little before putting his arm around me.

  I kissed his throat, inhaling the heady wild flavour of the man who’d raised me and the man I’d married.

  I’d loved him in every way someone could love another—platonically, sisterly, wifely. And now, I loved him in a way that couldn’t be explained. A way that transcended everything. A way that had no name because the way we loved existed past language and law. An astral kind of love that made its home in the stars and vacationed on Jupiter.

  “You know…” Jacob looked up, his boyish, beautiful face softening with affection rather than acting annoyed at seeing us cuddle. “I made my wish for you guys.” His dark eyes, so similar to Ren’s, welled up. “I wished that you were better, Dad. I wished you weren’t gonna have to go someplace.”

  Instantly, Ren reached across and dragged Jacob into a three-way hug. Jacob on his knees between us, his tiny frame so slight but so strong.

  Tears trickled down my face as Ren shuddered with emotion.

  When we could talk without sobbing, Ren said softly, “I wish that too, Wild One, but you have to understand. A wish is something that you want to come true, no matter how impossible it is. Some do come true. And some…don’t. But it doesn’t mean I’m not still here. Not still inside you. You’ll hear me if you listen hard enough because I have no intention of missing you grow into a man.”

  Jacob grinned, bucking up and proving just how brave he was. Braver than me by far. “Fine. Just don’t yell at me when I screw up, ’kay?”

  Ren chuckled. “No promises. Depends how badly you screw up.” Letting us both go, Ren placed a hand over his mouth and coughed. Once he’d gotten his breath again, he said, “Now, I know you’re old, and it’s not cool anymore, but how about a story? I can do a horror, so you won’t sleep. I can do a romance, so you gag. I have a lot of stories these days tucked inside this skull.” He tapped his temple. “What’s it gonna be?”

  Jacob pursed his lips, thinking. “Is the horror about why you have that brand on your hip?”

  I stiffened, but Ren merely nodded, sagely, calmly. “Yeah, but you’ve already heard that story before.”

  “Meh, tell it again. But do the voices of that nasty farmer and everything.”

  Ren glanced at me, his head cocked in question.

  I smiled and nodded.

  We had no secrets from our son. We’d been honest about everything once the kids at school terrified him about Ren’s illness. If he had a question, we did our best to answer it. Better our tale came from us than a township who still sometimes thought our last name Wild was brother and sister and looked at Jacob in disgust.

  It wasn’t many.

  But enough to ensure Jacob should be forearmed about our unusual love story.

  Throwing more sticks onto the fire, I passed Ren a water from the cooler beside me.

  “Thanks, Ribbon.” He smiled, sharing a galaxy of things in his stare.

  “Always.” Dropping off the log, I settled myself between his legs and rested my head on his thigh. “Always.”

  His hand landed in my hair, playing with the strands as his deep, provocative voice filled the forest. “Once upon a time, there was a boy whose mother didn’t want him…”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  REN

  * * * * * *

  2032

  MAKING LOVE TO Della was still my favourite thing to do.

  It didn’t matter that I had to stay sitting upright so I didn’t have a coughing fit.

  It didn’t matter that my breath came short and my heart went wild.

  Nothing else mattered when I slid into my wife and felt that epic sensation of connection. Her heat, her body, her welcome.

  She was better than any painkiller and more potent than any cure.

  Sex with Della always reminded me to keep fighting, no matter how bad some days became.

  With our lips locked, we stayed as quiet as we could.

  The tent was large enough to give us privacy from Jacob—with us zipped behind our partition and Jacob zipped behind his—but we had to be careful.

  Had to be secret.

  We touched in the dark, hands trailing over naked skin that was as familiar to each other as our own. Her fingers found me, squeezing hard. My fingers found her, sinking deep.

  We kissed slow and passionate and hungry.

  Our bodies quickened for more, thirsty.

  I wanted her, but I also wanted to delay and enjoy every moment because there was no denying now, no pretending that we’d have forever.

  I was tired.

  Exhausted.

  It wasn’t just about the constant pain or struggle to breathe; it was the agony in my wife’s and son’s eyes. The hidden tears and smothered flinches as they saw me skinny and coughing.

  I didn’t want them to remember me like that.

  I wanted them to remember me as a man who could protect them from everything, including death itself.

  Clutching my last few bursts of energy, I dragged Della up my lap until she straddled me.

  She gasped into our kiss as I knocked her hand from my erection, and my fingers slid from her. She positioned herself over me, and I groaned as she slid ever so slowly down.

  She took me, claimed me, made me hers all over again until her thighs touched mine and my body fully seated within hers.

  Once sheathed, we didn’t move.

  The darkness was absolute and I couldn’t see her face, but we stared at each ot
her as if we could. Because, really, we could see every glitter and glimmer of emotion. We could read each other’s breaths, feel each other’s souls, understand how bittersweet every day had been.

  And when we moved, we did it together. Della arching on my lap before sinking back down. Me rocking upward and filling her.

  I held her close with one hand on her hip and one arm around her back.

  Her breasts warmed my aching chest as we clutched each other so damn hard.

  There was no space between us.

  No air.

  No crack for sadness to wriggle in.

  We were plastered together, concreted, mortared, riding slowly, sensually, ignoring everything but this.

  There was no her or me, just us.

  An us who rode faster, deeper, stronger.

  An us who would never be separated because nothing could ever wedge us apart.

  As we moved quicker, chasing pleasure and satisfaction, we didn’t speak a word.

  We kissed, we licked, we bit and groaned, but we didn’t speak.

  Speaking would ruin this.

  Would ruin the rawness between us.

  Because in that tent, we forgot we were human. We didn’t communicate in letters and sentences, we communicated in the forgotten tongue amongst soulmates.

  We sat in nothingness and made promises webbed from everything.

  We re-married in the power of so much more than this world. We pledged and vowed in the eyes of the cosmos that recognised we weren’t whole unless we were together.

  It accepted our promise that we would wait.

  We would be patient.

  We would find each other again and be given the gift of ever after once we’d shed mortal shells and accepted that holding onto physical creation was never the answer.

  That letting go was.

  That threading yourself together with a cord that transcended time and space was the only way to be happy.

  To be free.

  Goosebumps scattered down my arms as our kisses and thrusts became tangled with the strings we’d just knotted, growing tighter and tighter, never to break apart.

  And when we came together, our bliss was also silent. A mere echo of heartbeats as we shared mirroring, quaking pleasure.

  It would forever be a regret that I wasn’t able to have a daughter with Della. That no matter how many times we went to bed together, we never got pregnant again.

  I would never know if it was the drugs that made me infertile or if the universe decided I’d had my happily ever after with my son.

  Either way, I would be leaving soon, and Della would have to lean on Jacob.

  A ten-year-old boy.

  A twisted full circle of life.

  I hadn’t meant to hold on until Jacob’s tenth birthday.

  I’d meant to hold on until his twentieth, thirtieth, but ten?

  It was almost too cruel.

  I’d been his age when I’d first taken Della.

  His age when my life changed, and I’d fought to keep us alive and happy.

  And through all odds and obstacles, I’d done it.

  A runty kid with an abusive past had somehow created a world anyone would envy.

  I needed Della to see that—to trust our son wasn’t just a kid but had a man inside him. He would be there for her, just like I’d been there for her. He would be brave, just like I’d been brave. He would cope, and together, they would survive.

  Della’s hands cupped my cheeks tenderly, kissing me in the dark.

  I submitted to her, stroking her tongue with mine, tilting my head to deepen.

  When my heart was once again skipping and kicking out of sync, she disengaged from me then fell to her side, waiting for me to spoon her.

  I knew what would happen if I lay down.

  I knew how bad the coughing would get.

  My lungs were on borrowed time, and I had no intention of dying tonight.

  Reclining just a little, I rolled her over until her head landed on my belly and her arm slung over my hips.

  We stayed that way for an eternity. A sleeping bag thrown over us to stay warm, the night crickets and scurrying creatures our symphony.

  And then, in the infinite dark, Della started to cry.

  Her tears ran over my skin.

  Her grief bathed me in salt.

  I clutched her close, shuddering against helplessness, my own tears spilling over.

  I hadn’t fully let myself grieve.

  I’d shared a tear or two but never let the torrent go.

  But now, where no one could see me, with the dark blinding us, hiding us, I allowed the silent sobs to break me.

  My sorrow only made Della’s worse, and she cried harder.

  I didn’t try to comfort her.

  I didn’t seek comfort for myself.

  This was a purging.

  This was necessary.

  This was goodbye.

  We clung to each other as we spent every tear.

  We didn’t worry about clocks or dawns, only about trying to find peace to our pain.

  And when my eyes dried and my heart settled, I stroked her hair softly. “I’ve loved you every second of my life.”

  Her body flinched against mine, her head burrowing into my belly. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

  “You’re the reason I’ve been blessed with so much.”

  “Stop, please stop.”

  “You’ve been more than just a wife to me; you’ve been my entire reason of existence.”

  “God…Ren.” Her tears came fresh. Her hold bound tight.

  I knew I was hurting her, but she had to know.

  Had to hear me repeat all the things she already knew, so she’d understand that none of it would change. My love for her would go on and on. She had to accept that. Had to accept that my physical love was almost done, but my spiritual love would never end.

  “Without you, I would’ve died many years ago, and for that, I want to thank you. Thank you for giving me you, Della. Thank you for giving me a son. Thank you for giving me us.”

  Her fingernails dug deep as if she could latch onto me forever.

  “I love you.” I coughed quietly. “But those words aren’t enough. They don’t do justice to how much I care.”

  A sob broke free. “I love you, Ren. I love you more than I can bear.” Her nails turned to lips, kissing my stomach with desperation. “Please, you’re still here. Don’t talk as if you’re not.”

  I ignored her, telling her a story like I used to when she was a little girl and couldn’t sleep. “The moment you took your first breath in that monster’s den, you stole mine and have held it in your palm ever since.

  “On the days I’d see you with your mother, I’d curse you. On the evenings where I’d slink past, I’d study you. I was forever aware of you, wishing I could share your food, your innocence, your touch.

  “My thoughts were that of a starving kid but now, as a man, I look back on those fuzzy childhood memories and wish I could live it all over again. I wish I could go back with the wisdom I have now and understand what you’d mean to me.

  “I’d never get angry with you. Never yell or leave. I wish I could relive every touch, every smile, first word, and first kiss. I wish you could feel how grateful I was every time you kissed me, laughed with me, gave me the honour of calling you mine.

  “I’m grateful, Della. For all of it.

  “Without your selflessness and the unconditional way you made me fall for you, I doubt I’d be whole now. I wouldn’t be able to lie here with you in my arms, knowing what is about to happen, and be calm enough to love you until that last fucking second.”

  “Stop.” Her sobs drenched my naked skin, but I didn’t stop.

  I couldn’t.

  The story wasn’t over.

  “I know it wasn’t easy for you, waiting until I opened my eyes. Hiding the fact you were in love with me when I was so stupidly blind. But you need to know I was in love with you for far longer than I ever let on
. I’d wanted you for years.

  “You truly are my other half, Della.” My voice broke, cracked, shattered. “And now…now I’m leaving you again. But this time, it’s not by choice.”

  My arm latched her closer, smothering her against me. “It’s not fair. I know I should say I’m okay with it, but, Ribbon…I’m fucking terrified.” A cough exploded from my lips.

  “Ren.” Della crawled up my body, curling into me with her knees bent and face tucked in the crook of my shoulder, her tears loud in my ear.

  I hugged her closer as my own tears came again, and honesty that I’d promised myself would stay trapped inside overflowed. “For the first time, you won’t be there. I won’t have you by my side. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I can’t do it. I-I—” I coughed again, working myself up, causing my lungs to falter.

  “Ren…stop.”

  “No, I-I have to get this out. I’m so sorry, Della. So eternally sorry that I’m leaving against our wishes. I wish I never got sick. I wish I could continue holding you—”

  “I know. Me too.”

  “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t believe I have the audacity to complain about dying while you…you have the harder path. I never wanted to do this to you, Della. Never wanted to cause you so much pain.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “And I’m sorry for being weak now. For ruining this even more.”

  “You’re not—”

  “You were my biggest joy, and now, you’re my greatest sadness.” I swiped my face free from tears, glowering at the blackness. “Fuck, I’m not being fair. I’m being so selfish. So cruel. I should tell you I’m not afraid. That I’m okay saying goodbye—”

  A cough ripped my voice apart, tearing through the night.

  It took a while before I could breathe well enough to continue. “I should accept that this is just life. But I don’t accept it. I rage against it. Because fate’s plan was you. You and me. Together. And now…”

  I coughed again, shaking both of us.

  “Shush, Ren. I know. I know more than you think.” Her touch feathered over my wet cheeks, her hand shaking. “I’m just as angry as you. Just as twisted with hate at how unfair all of this is. I’m not ready to say goodbye, either.” She kissed me, her sadness mixing with mine. “I never will be.”