Endless Love Letter (Love Letter Duet Book 2)

by Anderson, Callie

  I will hide away your pain,

  I'll be the sun shining through the rain.

  Being your dad means the world to me,

  You are my little sweet princess, my little sweet pea.

  Seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour passed before her cries soothed. Emilia’s nose was red and her eyes were puffy, but she was still my angel.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in a low voice.

  “I love you. I will always love you, and if I could take this treatment for you, I would.”

  Her lips quivered as my thumb ran across her lower lip. I wanted to kiss her. No, wanted wasn’t a strong enough word. I desperately craved her. I craved her lips. Emilia's eyes closed and a soft breath escaped. Unable to fight the urge, I lowered my mouth to hers and took everything she had to give me.

  “Weston.” My name escaping her lips was a straight shot to my soul. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “I never stopped loving you.” She brought her lips to mine and softly traced her tongue around my lips until I opened my mouth.

  Our tongues twirled together. I took everything she had to give me. I pulled her close to me, my erection growing harder in my pants with each passing second. Emilia adjusted herself so her legs were wrapped around my waist. With fingers tangled in my hair, she kissed my chin, my neck, and moved to bite the lobe of my ear.

  Her whimpers and moans were the most beautiful sounds. It was the chorus of our love. Emilia tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck to me. Hungry for a taste, I bit down, her skin soft and sweet against my lips. Lifting us both off the bed, I gently placed her feet on the floor.

  I was hungry for her. Needy. I wanted to devour every last part of her. I wanted to kiss every inch of her body. But as much as it promised to torture me, I would take my time. I would remind her what it was like between us. She was yellow gel; she was the girl with the fewest number of dents. She was my girl.

  My queen.

  My soul.

  I tugged on the hem of her blouse and lifted it over her head. The waves crashed on the rocks below. The moonlight was high in the sky as my lips grazed down her chin to the hollow of her neck. Gently, I kissed around her port.

  “Weston . . .” she moaned my name again.

  “Shh, baby,” I murmured against her skin. “Let me savor you. Let me take my time.”

  My fingers hooked under her bra straps and I gently slipped it off her shoulders and down her arms. I unclasped her bra and watched it fall to the ground. My gaze focused on her breasts as they greeted me. Her nipples pebbled and my mouth watered with the need to capture them between my lips. Her back arched as I cupped her breasts and brought my tongue over one nipple and then the other. When she was panting, begging for more, I pulled my shirt over my head in one swift motion and tossed it on the ground. Lifting her, I placed her on the bed. Her hands started to remove her jeans, but I stopped her.

  “Let me do it.”

  Her eyes burned with want and desire. At that moment, she wasn't sick. At that moment, the world outside the four walls disappeared.

  It was us.

  Emilia and Weston.

  I lowered her jeans, leaving only her lace boy shorts. My hand trailed up her body, admiring her pure beauty. She was perfect. Fucking perfect. I would never let her go. Ever.

  I brought my lips to the scar that was still healing, where they had taken part of her uterus. As I moved up her body, she pulled my face up to meet hers. Emilia’s lips pressed against mine with more need than before, whimpering as my tongue twirled in her mouth.

  Emilia pulled away from my lips and softly bit my chin, her teeth gliding against my skin. “I need you.”

  I pulled down her shorts and discarded mine. Unable to keep my hands to myself, I trailed them up her body. Emilia wrapped her arms around my neck and deepened our kiss. My lips danced with hers while the oxygen escaped her lungs. Parting our conjoined lips, I brushed her hair away from her face and looked deep into her eyes.

  “I love you, Emilia. All of you. I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. You’re my yellow gel.” I brought my hands to her breasts. Her nipples hardened at my touch, and I rubbed them tenderly.

  Her moans and whimpers were all I needed.

  With her hands on my face, she kissed me fiercely, her readiness seeping into my body.

  Desperate to have her, I kissed her lips, the corner of her mouth, her cheek, then worked my way to her jaw and then her ear, nipping on her lobe before kissing down her neck to her collar bone.

  I slid down her body and kissed her shoulder, her chest, her ribs.

  I kissed her for all the years we had missed.

  Emilia’s hand ran through my hair, gripping it firmly as she moaned forms of my name. I couldn’t keep my hands off her silky skin.

  Looking up at her to make sure I wasn’t pushing her too far, I glimpsed in her eyes everything she wasn’t saying. Her lids were at half–mast, her breathing irregular, and she looked desperate for more. Emilia moved her hand from my hair and cupped my cheek. I rubbed my skin against her palm. Turning my face, I placed a soft, wet kiss on the skin of her hand.

  I left a path of feather–like kisses over her stomach, across her hip bone, and down one thigh. Emilia opened her legs for me. Crouching down on the bed so I had a better angle, I rubbed my lips along the soft skin of her upper thighs until she was begging for me to kiss her core.

  My hands dug deep into her thighs as I brought my lips to her most tender spot. Emilia arched her back and I kissed every part of her. She tasted heavenly.

  “Weston . . .” I flicked my tongue over her clit. “Oh God, Weston, right there.” She pushed her core onto my tongue. Her cries only made me want to bring her to a climax sooner, but I took my time, licking her slowly, taking every moan and cry she gave me. Her legs trembled, her words grew louder, and I knew she was almost there. I laced my lips around her clit and sucked gently.

  “Oh, Weston!” she cried one last time before her body began to shake. Riding her waves of bliss, I lapped until she begged me to stop.

  I pulled away from her body and was greeted with a sexy grin and wild eyes. Emilia pushed off the bed and crawled toward me, her soft hands wrapping around my erection. Stroking it, she lowered her mouth and wrapped her lips around me. Her head bobbed, her tongue and lips making me want to be buried deep inside her. The anticipation was killing me.

  I pulled her head away and brought her lips to mine. “Lay back,” I said against her lips. “I need to have you.”

  Emilia lay back on the bed. I aligned myself at her opening and pushed inside her. Her body opened for me, her fingers gripping my skin. Her lips pressed against my neck as I pushed deeper inside her.

  “Weston,” she murmured.

  I kissed her neck, her cheeks, captured her soft lips with mine. Our foreheads rested together as each thrust brought us closer to a climax. “You’re perfect,” I moaned.

  Emilia whimpered in pure ecstasy and I felt her tightening around me. My own release was approaching, and I knew she was right there with me.

  “Fuck . . .” I moaned.

  Emilia wrapped her legs around my body, holding me closer. Loud, untamed gasps escaped her mouth as I drove deep inside her. Emilia held tightly to me as she climaxed. Her body shook and I kissed her furiously. Once her body stopped trembling, I grunted, thrusting deeper, harder, and faster, and found my own release.

  My heart was hammering.

  Her eyes were closed.

  We were numb with bliss.

  Sated with love.

  Emilia kissed my shoulder, her hands slid up and down my back. Shifting off her body, I kept her in my arms.

  Her deep brown eyes peered up at me and a smile grew on her face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.”

  I brought my lips to her neck. “I’ve forgotten how good we are at this.”

  “Thank you.” She threw her leg over mine and nuzzled close to me. �
��You make me forget the bad. And because of nights like this, and a man like you, I want to fight harder. Not only for Lyra, but for us.”

  I turned to get a better hold of her. Kissing the top of her head, I brushed her hair back, showing her that I loved her with every fiber in my body.

  13

  I had spent the night holding her close to me. The sun peered into the bedroom letting me know that soon reality would set in. I had been up most of the night watching each second pass. My eyes were glued to the digital clock on the nightstand. I counted the times it blinked before changing to seven. I hit the off button and sat at the edge of the bed, my head hung low. Exhaling slowly, I rose to make breakfast.

  Today Emilia started chemo.

  I didn't know how to prepare myself for this. Emilia lay peacefully on the bed, her bare skin flawless in the dim lighting of the sun. She must have known that I was staring at her because her eyes peeled open.

  A sideways grin grew on my face. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.”

  She yawned and stretched her hands above her head. “I've been up for hours now. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Are you scared about today?” I brushed my hands over her shoulder.

  “A little.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “I'm afraid to see what I'll look like with no hair.”

  “You'll look just like you do now—beautiful.” I leaned and kissed her cheek.

  “You think so?”

  Yes, haven't you seen GI Jane? Demi was hot with a buzzed head.”

  Emilia giggled and slapped my arm. “You're such a man.”

  “I'm going to hop in the shower and then make breakfast. Why don’t you wake up Lyra?” I said before kissing her neck.

  Emilia nodded and I left to get ready. According to Emilia's oncologist, she needed to focus on eating a lean and well–balanced breakfast. Foregoing the bacon, I prepared a veggie omelet with toast and freshly squeezed orange juice. Lyra and Emilia joined me in the kitchen. Lyra, as always bubbly and loving, greeted me with a big hug and we sat to eat. We sat to eat around the table. Emilia’s eyes wouldn’t meet mine. She barely touched her omelet and constantly found a reason to reach over to Lyra and touch her.

  “Did you pack your item for the letter M?” I asked Lyra. Each week she was given a letter, and had to bring something to school that started with the letter.

  “I did!” She beamed up at me. “Yesterday, I glued macaroni to a poster board.”

  “Good job, princess.”

  After breakfast we drove Lyra to school. Through the entire ride, I kept the radio volume low. Lyra explained how her best friend Dena had been given a ‘yes day’ while I traced invisible love letters on Emilia's hand.

  “Daddy?” She questioned but didn’t wait for me to answer. “Do you think I can have a yes day, too? Dena’s daddy is giving her a yes day this Saturday. For the whole day, he has to say yes to everything! Everything!”

  “Oh…”

  “Can I have a yes day, Daddy? Please.”

  “Of course, Lyra.”

  “I can’t wait to tell Dena!”

  I looked over at Emilia. Her gaze met mine and a soft smile grew on her face. Thank you,” she mouthed. I brought the back of her hand to my lips.

  We drove in silence after Lyra’s drop off. The twenty–minute ride to the chemo center seemed to take hours. I pulled her car into the parking lot and cut the engine.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  “Taking you to get chemo?” My eyebrows furrowed as I responded.

  “You don't have to come in too. I'm okay by myself.” She pulled her purse high on her shoulder.

  I scoffed. “If you think I'm not going to be here through all of this you're out of your mind.” I reached over and took her hands in mine.

  “But I'll just be sitting there. I brought a book to read, and I'll most likely get nauseated and puke.” Her nose crinkled with disgust. “You must have something better to do.”

  “Well, it's a good thing I have my laptop and a whole album to write. I have all the time in the world.” I kicked the car door open and looked back at her. “Besides, who will hold your hair back?”

  Emilia didn't argue. She smiled as she crawled out of the car and laced her hand with mine. Together, we walked toward the front door.

  I'd like to believe that I was a smart man who’d properly prepared myself for this day. But there was no way I could have been prepared for this. Walking into the large, cold room with bright lights and black leather recliners scattered around in a circle, I felt a pinch in my chest. This would be our home for three and half hours every three weeks for the next four months.

  I tried not to stare at the other patients as Emilia checked in, but it was harder than I had thought. A little boy no older than Lyra sat on the far right playing on an iPad. He looked so small in the massive chair. A child should not have to go through this.

  An elderly woman sat with her husband. He lay with his eyes closed, and an oxygen cannula rested above his lips. Cancer didn’t give a fuck who you were. It saw no age, race, or religion.

  Cancer was the mother fucking devil.

  A nurse guided us to an empty chair. Emilia smiled and greeted the two patients on either side of her. She reclined the chair back as the nurse explained what they would be doing.

  Chemo kills cancer because it kills you in the process. You get fatigued, nauseated, your body is in tremendous pain. You lose your hair and your control of your bladder and bowel movements. I’d read that people complained their mouth tasted of battery acid.

  I held Emilia's hand when they inserted the needle into her port. “One down,” Emilia said when the chemo began to drip into the IV. “Seven to go.” A lone tear dripped down her cheek.

  I closed my eyes and hoped for a better day when this would be behind us.

  14

  Emilia and I left the cancer center the same way we walked in.

  Hand in hand.

  She felt a bit tired so we decided we would stay in bed until it was time to pick up Lyra from school. The television was on for only twenty minutes before she was sleeping in my arms.

  I picked up my phone from the nightstand and sent a text message to Jeremy.

  Me: She just finished her first round of chemo. She seems okay.

  Emilia had cut Jeremy off from her life. It was a subject she refused to discuss. She blamed him for the cancer—not that it was his fault, but she needed to put her blame on something. That something was Jeremy.

  The day after I left his office, he sent me a text message asking if I’d talk to Emilia. I told him what I knew and kept him in the loop. I explained to him the prognosis and the treatment plan. It was wrong to go behind her back, but at one time he was the person who helped her out the most. I hated to admit it, but he loved her like I did.

  Jeremy: Thanks, man. If she needs anything, please let me know.

  Emilia stayed in bed while I went to pick up Lyra from school. She was in such a deep slumber that she didn’t budge when I kissed her good–bye. I called my mother to confirm her flight from Seattle to LA. She would be staying at my house for a week at a time throughout the next few months. Emilia and I had decided we would need her help the most the week right after her chemo treatments as that was when the doctors said she would feel the worst.

  “Hello?” my mother answered.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Weston, sweetie, how’s Emilia?”

  I exhaled, massaging the back of my neck. “She’s okay I think. We got home, she wasn’t hungry, but has been sleeping ever since.”

  “And how are you?”

  “You know, staying strong for her.”

  My mother sighed. “I’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you again for coming.”

  “Have you told Lyra?” My mother’s voice held a hint of concern.

  “Emilia and I plan on telling her tonight.”

  “Tell them bot
h that I love them. And I love you too, of course.”

  A smile grew on my face. “Thank you again, Mom. I love you.”

  I hung up the phone and was greeted with a cheerful Lyra running toward me. Her grin was ear to ear.

  “Daddy!” she shouted.

  I squatted and captured her in my arms.

  “How was your day, princess?”

  Lyra squeezed her little arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I helped Mrs. Carol during story time.” Lyra explained her day to me as I fastened her into her booster seat. “Where’s Mommy?”

  I kissed the top of her head and gazed into her eyes. “Mommy isn’t feeling so well. She’s home resting. But Granny will be coming to spend some time with us.” Lyra’s eyes widened. “Can we go to the movies on Saturday with Granny?”

  “We can ask her when she gets here.” I tried to seem interested in what she was saying, but my mind was with Emilia.

  “I can even share my popcorn with her.” Lyra continued with the conversation. I checked her seatbelt and closed the door. Pulling back the driver’s door, I stepped into the car. She continued to plan her weekend with my mother as I drove us home.

  Lyra skipped up the steps as I grabbed the mail from the mailbox. The house was quiet, just as I had left it. “Mommy!” Lyra skipped from room to room looking for Emilia. The lights were off, but the house was bright with the sunlight that poured through the skylights.

  I walked through the house and down the long hallway to where Emilia's bedroom was located. Stepping closer to the open door, I heard her in the bathroom heaving.

  “Em?” I rushed to her. Lyra followed behind me. Emilia knelt over the toilet, her hair pulled to the side as her body convulsed.

  “Mommy?” Lyra's voice was weak, her hand reaching for mine.

  Emilia flushed the toilet before looking back at us. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stood walked over to the sink. “It's okay, sweetie,” she said to Lyra.

  Lyra released my hand and ran to her mother’s side, hugging her leg. Through the mirror, my gaze met Emilia’s. It had only been a few hours, but she had already changed so much. Her eyes were heavy and exhaustion haunted her features.