by Kreig, K. L.
I cry for the many ways I’ve failed her, both then and now.
I get the message. She’s letting me go. She’s telling me it’s okay for me to let her go. But I’m not letting go. I’m not letting her go.
Then I do what I should have done a week and a half ago. I step up to the fucking plate and I make plans for my future. A future which includes Livvy. Because despite everything, despite what she thinks, it’s not too late for us. I will never love another woman. I’m never giving her up. I can’t. She’s my everything. She always has been. The only way I can truly be happy is with her.
She’s not the only one who’s had her heart stolen, forever unavailable to another.
Chapter 52
“I told him. Well, I wrote him a letter.” I pick imaginary lint from my jeans, not wanting to see her reaction.
“And?”
“And what?”
“How does that make you feel?”
I look up into the compassionate, aging face of my psychiatrist whom I’ve seen for the past two plus years. I’ve come to have a great deal of respect for the woman who brought me back from the brink of despair with her quirky techniques and soul-searching questions. For the first year, I happily took anti-anxiety medications, like the good little patient I was, but I got tired of the fuzzy, mind-numbing effects and found that I could cope just fine off of them. Of course, the year of intensive therapy probably had something to do with that.
“How does that make me feel?” A question she asks a dozen times a session. “Honestly? Sick to my stomach.”
“That’s not an emotion, Livia. That’s a physical symptom of the emotions you’re feeling.”
Snorting, I add, “Okay, fine. I feel anxious and embarrassed and helpless.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid he won’t want me anymore,” I whisper softly. I think back to the nearly naked woman who answered his door last night and it cramps my stomach. He’s made it pretty clear he already doesn’t want me anymore already. I guess maybe my mind really just hasn’t accepted it yet. I don’t know why hope enthralls us in her wicked, twisted spell, making us believe things that aren’t really true, but she does. And she does it well.
Writing that letter was the right thing to do, but it doesn’t mean it was easy and handing to Luke was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I’ve been checking my phone obsessively since Luke left me this morning. It’s now almost five and I haven’t heard a peep from Gray. I guess I didn’t really expect to, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t gutted all the same. I also haven’t heard from Luke. I’ve texted him twice with no response. I’m equally worried I won’t see him again for a while and that’s almost as hard to swallow as Gray’s continued snubs.
When I walk through the door at a little after six, Addy and Kamryn are sitting on the couch, each holding a glass wine. “Hi.” I drop my purse on the floor and take a seat between them. Laying my head back, I stare at the ceiling.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you?” Kam asks, rubbing my shoulder.
“I’m…dealing.” I feel a bit better after my counseling session like I always do.
“You need to get changed,” Addy announces.
“No. I’m too tired to go anywhere.”
“Livia, you need to get out of this apartment. Besides, we’re taking you somewhere fun. And dress warmly. We’ll be outside.” In October, the evenings in Illinois cool significantly.
I begin to protest again when she lays the guilt trip on thick. “You missed Kam’s birthday last week. Think of this as a make-up.”
“Wow. Harsh.” Last week I was in the middle of a mental breakdown. “Okay.” I give in because I know I won’t win. Addy is one of the most tenacious people I know. And maybe getting out of here will help me take my mind off the fact that I haven’t heard from Gray. That I may never hear from Gray.
Neither Kam nor Addy will tell me where we’re going until we arrive. And by the time we reach Navy Pier, it’s starting to get dark and the Ferris wheel is lit with bright lights. I have to sit in the car an extra couple of minutes, gaining my composure because the last time I looked down at Navy Pier and that carnival ride, I was in Gray’s living room. I was happy.
Kam leans in the car, sympathy etched on her sad smile. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
I nod and wipe my eyes. If I could super glue my tear ducts shut, I would. I haven’t cried this much in my entire life as I have in the past few weeks. What do you get when you mix together heartbreak with pregnancy hormones? A big, fucking hot mess with a capital H, that’s what.
We take our time strolling down the pier, stopping at a couple of the little booths along the way. It’s surprisingly busy for a Wednesday night in October. Then we’re in front of Pier Park, in front of the Ferris wheel and Kam and Addy leave me to buy tickets at the booth. I don’t want to go, but I’m too numb to do anything but play along.
And then I see him, stepping out from behind a pillar. My breath hitches. I look at my friends and they watch me intently to make sure this is what I want. As if there’s anything I want more.
My gaze swings back to Gray, who is now making his way toward me. Then he’s in front of me, cupping my cheeks. My world narrows to just him. Everyone and everything else fade away. “What are you doing here?” I ask dumbly.
His eyes search mine and I’m awestruck at the love I see pouring from them. “Making sure our fairytale has a happy ending.”
“Gray—” He eats the rest of my words with his lips, his mouth, his tongue.
“There isn’t anyone else. There’s never been anyone else,” he whispers between kisses. “I love you so much, Livvy. So much,” he mumbles against my mouth, kissing me over and over and over again. He hugs me tight and I feel his body tremble. Or maybe it’s mine. We stand there, holding onto each other for dear life, as people mill around us. I don’t know how long we’re like that before he grabs my hand and takes me on my first Ferris wheel ride in Navy Pier.
There’s so much to be said, so many questions we both have, but neither of us speaks. He holds me close as the ride takes us higher and higher, one hundred and fifty feet above the ground. My head rests on his shoulder. His free hand entwines with mine, his thumb drawing light circles on top. The view of Chicago from this height is incredible, but I can’t enjoy it. All I can focus on is the feel of his hand in mine, and how his arm around me makes me feel like I’m finally home.
For the first time in nearly two weeks, I can breathe.
_______________
The second we walk through his apartment door, Gray is all over me, the path to his bedroom littered with our clothes.
“Gray,” I moan. His mouth and tongue are doing wicked things to my pussy and within only seconds, I’m ready to explode. I’ve been too long without this man touching me. “Right there, don’t stop. Please don’t…” The second he slides two fingers in and curls them precisely the right way, I climax, crying out his name. My hands hold him to me as I’m taken on the best ride I’ve ever been on—his mouth.
He crawls up my body, his lips taking mine like they own them. They do. He does. “Fuck, you taste sweet,” he mutters against my mouth. He rolls us over, pulling me astride him. I palm my sensitive breasts. The low rumble coming from deep inside his chest makes me gush with desire.
“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Ride me, angel. Hard,” he demands. His hazel eyes glitter like gems in the glow of the lamp and I want to do nothing else but submit to his every whim. I position his cock and sink down, reveling in the sensation each inch brings to my extra sensitive nerve endings. My head falls back and we begin our sensual dance.
His hands direct every shift and roll of my hips and I follow his lead, letting him pleasure himself with my body. Within minutes, he’s shouting my name and then I’m sprawled over him, our breathing shallow, our sweat-soaked bodies stuck together.
Gray positions us so that we’re lying side-by-side. I can’
t look away from the man I love. The man I thought I would never have. The man I thought I didn’t deserve. I’m still not sure I do, but I’m done questioning it. My soul weeps with pure joy to know that after everything that we’ve been put through he still wants me.
“There’s no one else,” he whispers. “What you saw last night was not what it looked like. I wasn’t home. I didn’t even know Lena was here. I swear I didn’t touch her.”
“Okay,” I reply softly. I believe him.
“I’m so sorry, Livvy. For everything.” Tears well in his eyes and mine. I realize we have a long night ahead of us. Of confessions and truths. I’m dreading telling him about the baby we lost. Sharing that type of news in a letter is cold and heartless and I wasn’t about to do that to him. But now I’m bursting at the seams to share the joy of our new miracle. Tonight will be hard for both of us. We each have old skin to shed so we can start fresh. It will be unpleasant and uncomfortable and downright gut-wrenching, but necessary if we want to move forward. Which it appears we both do.
“Not more than I am,” I finally whisper, feathering a finger down his cheek, catching a stray tear.
And then I begin.
Chapter 53
“You know how Alyse had been having issues after the accident,” I started. When Alyse was eighteen, she had been in a terrible car accident. The driver didn’t make it, and although Alyse wasn’t nearly as injured as she could have been, she went into a deep depression, trying to kill herself twice. It was a difficult time for all of us.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly. His right hand was linked with my left. His other hand stroked my hair.
“She was doing a lot better, of course, but that fear was always there that she’d slip back into that dark place. Dad called in a panic telling me I needed to get home right away, so naturally I thought it was Alyse. But when I got there, my dad was sitting in the middle of the living room on one of the dining room chairs surrounded by about half dozen men with guns.”
I stop, trying to gain my composure, not wanting to continue, but knowing that I owed him at least this much. Gray had let me turn off the light so I could make my confessions under the shroud of darkened protection. The only way I’d be able to get the words out was if I didn’t have to see how they’d gut him, but the moon shone bright tonight and I could see his face all too well once my eyes adjusted. I wish I could snuff out its beams, just for the few precious minutes I need to purge my soul.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, angel.”
“No. There are things I need to tell you.”
“You can stop anytime you want, alright?”
I take a deep breath and continue, but my voice is shaking uncontrollably. “I had no choice, Gray.”
“I know, Livvy. It fucking guts me that you had to go through that and I didn’t know. If he wasn’t dead, I swear to you I would find him and kill him. I hired a detective to find you, but it was like you disappeared off the face of the earth. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t try harder.”
“It’s not your fault, Gray. Peter was very good at keeping things hidden, including me.” He tries to pull me into him, but I resist. I needed the separation if I was going to get through this. “I don’t think I can finish if I’m in your arms.”
Giving my hand a squeeze, he replies, “Okay.”
“A few weeks into my ordeal, I found out I was…” I stop, trying to swallow the bile that’s creeping up my throat at the thought of telling him about the baby. “Jesus, this is harder than I thought it would be,” I whisper.
“Take as much time as you need, angel.”
“I found out I was…pregnant.” He stiffened and his hold on my hand became almost painful. I could practically feel the rage rolling off of him.
“Jesus, Livvy. I’m not sure I can hear this.”
Sitting up, he moved to get off the bed. I followed and tugged him back. I’m kneeling on the soft mattress with him standing in front of me. Our outer shells are stark naked, and that’s exactly how I feel inside having to tell him that a monster killed our baby.
Bare.
Raw.
Exposed.
This was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Anguish rolled hotly down my face as I tried to purge the words from a place deep inside me that I’ve tried to bury for years. Cracking the lid on that compartment reopened that wound, making it as fresh as the day it happened.
“It was yours.”
“Was?” he choked. His agony was mine. I felt it like it was a breathing entity that had us wrapped in its unbearable spell.
I could only nod. “When he found out, he beat me within an inch of my life. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Luke.”
A string of low curses explodes before he pulls me into his arms, squeezing tightly, head buried in my long mane of hair. I feel his body shake and I know he’s weeping, just like me. For an unknown period of time, we simply cling to each other for our very lives, like we’ll irrevocably drift apart if we loosen our grips a single notch.
We both whisper I’m sorry over and over and over. It’s not enough. No words in any language ever could be.
Next to losing my baby, it’s the most gut-wrenching moment I’ve ever experienced, but equally freeing. My burden feels lighter, more bearable. I will never get over the malicious, intentional murder of our unborn child, but for the first time since it happened, I think I will actually be able to really deal with it because I’ll have Gray. We’ll have each other.
One secret down, one to go.
“There’s something else.”
“Livvy.” It was an emotional plea, filled with anguish and pain, beseeching me to stop. He couldn’t bear anymore, but I had to continue because if I didn’t, I’d never get this next part out.
“After that, he had a procedure done that was supposed to render me sterile.”
At that little bomb, before I could stop him, he pulled away, stalked across the room and slammed his fist repeatedly into the wall, roaring in both emotional and physical pain. I reached for the lamp, turning it on. When he turned back toward me, the look of pure, raw torture on his face was almost my complete undoing. I’d never seen someone in so much torment. Sliding down the wall, he put his face in his hands and openly sobbed.
“It didn’t work,” I tell him, but he can’t hear me through his uncontrollable crying and mumbling. I climb off the bed and walk over to him on wobbly legs. When I’m close enough, he grabs my hips and wraps his arms tightly around my waist, burying his head in my belly. His tears cool my skin and cleanse my soul.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I call his name until his sobs subside enough he can hear me. “It didn’t work, Gray. It didn’t work.”
His hold loosens and he pulls away, looking up my body. Confusion clouds his eyes, furrows his brows.
“It didn’t work,” I repeat. Because it’s worth repeating. Over and over. I’ve repeated it a hundred times to myself since I found out I was pregnant, still not believing it’s true.
“It didn’t work?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, Livvy.”
I take a long, deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I wasn’t dehydrated from the flu. I didn’t have the flu.”
He swallows hard. “You didn’t have the flu?”
“No. I was dehydrated from severe morning sickness.”
“Morning sickness?”
I finally let a small smile touch my lips. The hardest part is now over. “Yes. I found out in the hospital that I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant?”
I almost laugh at how he’s parroting everything I’m saying like if he hears it twice it will make it true. I kneel down, cupping his face. “Yes. Pregnant. With our baby.”
“You’re—sweet Jesus, you’re pregnant?” The look of disbelief and shock are starting to concern me. Maybe he won’t be as happy about this as I am. Maybe he’s not ready for a family. Maybe telling him now was a
bad—
I’m wrenched out of my thoughts when his lips crash to mine. Then his mouth is everywhere and he’s laughing, but I can still feel his tears flow across my naked flesh. “You’re pregnant? We’re pregnant?” He grabs my face, looking deeply into my eyes. “We’re pregnant?”
For as long as I live, I will never forget the love and adoration and pure joy I see in that one single moment in time. It’s an unimaginable moment that I thought I would never have. That we would never have. It’s suspended, frozen. I take a mental picture so I can replay it again and again and again. I can’t possibly speak through my constricted airway, so I just nod.
The rest of the night is a blur.
We laugh.
We cry.
We make love.
We sleep.
We repeat.
Chapter 54
“Thanks for meeting me.”
My twin nods, taking a seat beside me at the bar. He waves to the bartender to get him what I’m having and we both sit, face forward, the air thick with tension.
“Why am I here?” he finally asks, breaking the silence.
Until our lives took different paths, my twin was my best friend. We were inseparable. We were in the same sports. We liked the same girls, so it’s no wonder we fell in love with the same woman. We sat together every day at lunch, with Ash and Conn, making our own little tight, impenetrable clique. Luke and I were cohorts at pulling dozens of pranks on our younger brothers. So when he started going down a path that I didn’t want to follow, it crushed me. Ruined me. My best friend was lost. He abandoned me, just as I thought Livvy had. And that wound runs deep.
Still.
While Livvy and Luke have talked on the phone a couple of times, I know they haven’t seen each other since the day he dropped off her letter in my office. I know that because she’s spent every second with me. Livvy wants Luke in her life, which means he will be in mine. Although that pains me because I know how he feels about her, it also means I need to clear the air between us. I want my brother back. I’ve missed him. I just didn’t realize how much.
