Broken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 2)

by Stephanie Vercier

  With both of our hearts beating so fast that I swear I can hear his just as succinctly as I feel mine, he roots himself inside of me. My body hums with a pleasurable wholeness at the connection, and I hold onto his shoulders tightly as he thrusts his hips, each pass bringing with it sparks of physical joy that is topped only by the emotional depth of how we are connecting, how I know that there will never be another man like John and how grateful I am that we’ve found one another again.

  I can’t say how long we are together like this—it feels like forever, a forever that could never be long enough. But once we are both satisfied, equally drained and fulfilled, I consider there is still one great truth I’ve not shared with John.

  I’d never imagined meeting a man like him, never imagined someone who had graduated college and was going into law school would be able to handle my imperfect past. What kind of girl sleeps with their teacher and inadvertently allows herself to be recorded? Certainly not the kind of girl a man like John could want. And yet, even after finding out all of that, he did… he does still want me.

  When he’d first proposed to me, I’d wanted to tell him about the pregnancy, about giving birth, about being a mother, even if it’s only in the most biological sense, but I wasn’t sure that what he and I had would last—it was all too perfect. And I simply didn’t have the heart to break the spell, feeling as though telling him about the children would have been one too many chasms to ask him to jump across with me.

  But now, as he holds me close to his warm, solid form, I know he’ll understand. He’s not the man without any imperfections I’d assumed him to be when I first met him. He’s delved into his own darkness and come out better… stronger.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” I say, easily and without fear.

  “What is that?” he asks me, his warm breath tickling my ears.

  “I got pregnant when I was with Mr. Thatcher,” I reply, not quite sure of the best way to explain. “And there are children… twins.”

  His body tenses only momentarily before he says, “Tell me… tell me all about them.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  JOHN

  Morgan and Chad don’t know that Emma is their mother, but what is obvious from watching them climb all over her while she reads them a story about a turtle who is too slow and a rabbit that is too fast, is that they love her.

  “You know, huh?” her Dad asks me in hushed tones. We’d all been sitting at the dining room table, Emma, myself, her dad and his wife, Liz, finishing off a family dinner when Morgan and Chad basically dragged Emma away, begging for her to read them a story.

  “She told me a month ago,” I say to Mr. Chambers, Liz now out of earshot in the kitchen.

  My mother had made it her business to uncover Emma’s secrets, but she somehow hadn’t found out that Emma had given birth to twins. Her pregnancy was never reported in the news, deemed unnecessary to bring up in the trial once the prosecuting attorney had found out. But still, a private investigator should have been able to uncover it—he, or she, wasn’t doing a very good job or maybe it was that those who knew, the students, teachers and parents who watched her belly grow at her old high school in North Seattle, had somehow erected a wall of protection around her. It was either that or my mother did know and simply decided it wasn’t right to threaten exposing the true parentage of two small, innocent children. The latter option gives me hope that my mother isn’t heartless and that someday I’ll be able to have a decent relationship with my parents again.

  “They look so much like her,” I add in.

  “Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “More so than if they were only half siblings, which, as I’m sure you know, is what we tell most people.”

  “It was pretty great of you to adopt them,” I say, knowing my parents would have shipped those kids off to another country before they’d step up, take them in and raise them as their own.

  “Well, it came at the right time,” he says thoughtfully. “Liz and I couldn’t have kids of our own.” He looks into the kitchen where Liz is busily organizing leftovers in containers, declining our help when we’d offered. “I’d have never wanted my girl to hurt the way she did when that whole thing with Thatcher happened, but it gave Liz a chance to be a mother and me to be a dad again, whether I deserved the honor or not because Lord only knows I’ve not always been the best dad to Emma.”

  I’m fully engaged in my conversation with Mr. Chambers, but I can’t take my eyes off of Emma and how good she is with Morgan and Chad. “I don’t think Emma holds anything against you,” I say, “and I get the feeling she’s okay with the arrangement, that she wasn’t ready to be a mom.”

  Her dad nods, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “At first, she thought she could be… a mom that is. She was pretty confused about her feelings for Thatcher… the bastard. But that waned, and she decided she was too young. She’d floated the idea to me and her mom of putting what we thought was just one baby up for adoption. When I told Liz about it, she looked at me with those wide eyes of hers and said, ‘Why don’t we adopt it?’ And so we did… a hell of a lot easier of course when Thatcher gave up his parental rights, which I know Emma has mixed feelings about. But damn if it didn’t work out the best way, even if Liz is going to be taking baby steps in us telling the kids the truth.”

  “It’s amazing,” I say, watching Emma and imagining her with our own children one day, children that won’t replace the two sitting in her lap but will rather compliment them.

  He lifts an eyebrow at me. “You’re taking this all pretty damn well. Some men wouldn’t be so understanding.”

  I shrug. “I think it’s all about deciding what’s really important. And for me, that’s Emma and everything that comes along with her.”

  He chuckles and pats me on the back. “You’re a good man, John. I’ll be damn proud to have you as a son-in-law.”

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling damn proud myself too, proud of the life I’m living with Emma, excited to wake up every morning and see where it takes us.

  EMMA

  “Why the rabbit so fast?” Morgan asks me in her toddler speak.

  “Because he was anxious to get ahead, even if he had to take shortcuts.”

  “But turtle wins!” Chad announces like he’d called the race himself.

  “Yeah, he did,” I laugh. “He was patient, and in the end he won. He got what he really wanted.”

  I look over at John who seems to be getting along really well with my dad, and I’m so grateful for that. I’m sure a lot of people would look at John and I like the rabbit in the children’s story, so anxious to win that he’d burn up all his energy and take shortcuts full of pitfalls. And maybe we’d done a little of that at first, but we morphed into the turtle along the way, being patient with one another, taking the time to understand and even embrace the pasts we’d both had, pasts that had formed us into the people we are today, pasts that, in their own crazy way, may have brought us closer together.

  “You always be my big sister,” Morgan says to me before sticking her thumb into her mouth.

  “Forever!” Chad calls out, making me laugh again.

  “Yes, I’ll always be your big sister,” I say, kissing them both on their foreheads. And I will. Even when it comes time to tell them I’m biologically their mother and that I gave birth to them, I will always want for them to see Liz as their mom. It’s complicated, but all that matters in the end is that we’re connected in a way that will never be broken.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  EMMA

  One and a Half Years Later – July

  “I still can’t believe I’m seeing you after how many years?” Paige says, she and I taking a quick breather on the patio just outside one of John’s favorite restaurants in Queen Anne.

  “At least ten,” I say, “and you didn’t make it easy to track you down.”

  “I know,” she sighs, “I’m awful, but I’m just really, really bad at social media, but I do try
.”

  “No biggie… we found each other—that’s all that matters. And I’m just so glad you agreed to come for my wedding.”

  Part of the difficulty I’d had in finding Paige was the fact that she’d been going to school in North Carolina, about as far from where I’d imagined she might be. But when I finally got a response back from the beautiful blonde, blue-eyed woman who had been my childhood best friend, we reconnected like we’d never spent a day apart. She’d told me about the love triangle that had formed between she and her two best friends, and I told her about Mr. Thatcher, the twins, and of course John. We were both surprised by one another’s stories, agreeing we’d both had enough drama in our lives to last a lifetime.

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything, Emma,” she says. “I know Mom and Kate are bummed they couldn’t make it.”

  “Hey, at least Claire tagged along.” I look over at the large table we’d reserved after our wedding rehearsal, Paige’s beautiful middle sister sitting at the end of it and chatting away with the guys and girls a good deal older than her.

  Paige eyes her sister with what I think must be a mix of pride and frustration, the kind of look I’d often seen Jennifer give to her brother, Kevin, and one I imagine all siblings must know well. “Yeah, and she’s having a blast talking to your friends. I swear, she looks at her upcoming senior year like she’s doing some kind of penance. She’s so anxious to move on and go to college.”

  “And be a doctor?” That’s what Paige had said during one of our long video chats.

  “Yep. She’s absolutely determined. Now, remind me who that guy is she’s talking to?”

  “That would be Denny,” I say, noting the return of that goofy, happy grin of his, “which is perfect since he’s in med school.”

  “That’s right,” Paige says. “You mentioned that. And, if you don’t mind, can you give me one more rundown of the table so I don’t mix up any of the names and the faces?” She scrunches her nose up and looks embarrassed for even asking.

  “Of course,” I say, knowing how overwhelmed I’d feel at meeting so many strangers at once. “So, next to Denny is Court, who used to swear up and down Denny was like a brother to her.”

  “But now?”

  “Not so much. Totally in love with each other.” I chuckle. “She finally got over her fear, and I think Denny was floored she really felt that way. She told me she was afraid to lose him as a friend if things didn’t work out.”

  “I can relate,” Paige says with a bit of melancholy.

  “I know you can,” I reply with empathy for her damaged friendship with Garrett, the one of her two best friends who hadn’t won her heart.

  “And who’s across from Court?” she asks, likely not wanting to get mired back down in the past.

  “Angela, the one who made me wonder why the hell I was even friends with her on more than one occasion.”

  Paige laughs. “But she turned out okay, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s actually been great, and she and the guy next to her, Stephen, have been engaged for six months.”

  “They look happy,” Paige says.

  “Just like you and Evan,” I say, hoping to express approval with my tone and the way I raise my eyebrows at her.

  “I’m so in love with him,” Paige says, fully embracing the feeling. “It scares me sometimes to think of the ways we might not have ended up together.”

  “But you did.” And I’m so happy for her. Evan is handsome and tall, funny but respectful, and it’s so easy to see that he loves her as much as she does him.

  “And you got John. He’s not bad to look at.”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  “And who’s sitting next to your empty seat?”

  “Jennifer.”

  “The best friend from middle school and part of high school.”

  “Yes. You’re pretty good at this.”

  “I try,” she says with a slight shrug and a smile. “And the guy?”

  “Langston Parsons,” I say with satisfaction. “He was her high school boyfriend, but he’s at UC Davis, and she doesn’t believe in long distance, but I made sure to remind her that she should at least believe in love.”

  Paige laughs. “So you did the whole cupid thing?”

  “I totally did. Jennifer had really been there for me when I needed her, and the way she talked about Langston… well, I kind of knew it had to happen.”

  “They make a good pair.”

  “Totally,” I agree.

  Next, I point to Meg who is still single but doesn’t seem all that upset about it, especially considering the way she’s been flirting with one of the servers. Then I’m on to Michael and the very elusive Sarah, John’s sister, who flew in from Iceland, her latest locale. I don’t tell Paige that there was an ill-considered kiss between Michael and I. The fact that we have parts of John’s family here to support us more than overcomes any awkwardness that might have existed between Michael, myself, and John.

  Mom is here with Aiden. I go back and forth with my feelings on them as a couple, but they’ve both remained sober, save for a few missteps along the way, and I’m so proud of my mom because I’ve not seen her in that ratty old robe of hers in what seems like forever.

  Dad and Liz had to leave early to get back to the twins, but they’d been cordial with Mom and Aiden while they’d been here, and now it’s Burk and his husband, Harold, who are talking a mile a minute and making Mom and Aiden laugh.

  “I want to meet Chad and Morgan,” Paige says right before we decide to head back in. “I thought they’d be at the rehearsal to practice their roles.”

  “Oh, we’ve been practicing at home. You’ll definitely meet them tomorrow. They’re kind of adorable.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Paige says with a smile so warm that it reminds me of sitting by a toasty fire in the dead of winter and drinking hot chocolate.

  Back inside, Paige takes the seat next to Evan and I to John.

  She and I offer one another a conspiratorial look, knowing that both of us are exactly where we belong.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  JOHN

  A Romantic Epilogue

  Emma had defied superstition and worn that same dress she’d texted the picture of to me so long ago now. She’d told me she felt like it was actually good luck because we’d both seen it and loved it, and it had remained her favorite even after she’d gone and tried on at least a dozen others.

  When she walks down the aisle—after Morgan did her job as flower girl and Chad as ring bearer—I’m overcome by so much emotion at how beautiful Emma is that I have to steady myself to keep from crying. Denny pats me on the back, as if to remind me he’s here, supporting us. I’d once worried he might try to take Emma away from me, but in the end, he’d been there helping us get back together.

  With each step she takes closer to me, I think of everything that we’ve shared, from that first meeting at Rampage—made more difficult because of our exes, Madison and Ike—to that evening I proposed to her at Discovery Park, realizing how little I knew of her and now knowing it all and loving her all the more because of it.

  When Mr. Chambers releases her at the altar, I gladly take over, my love for her never dissipating but instead growing with the dreams we have for our future, including the children we’ll one day hope to have. But right now, we have everything we could need, and when I’m asked to vow to love and honor, to cherish and forsake all others, in sickness and in health, I repeat the words so loudly that I nearly scare little Morgan.

  “I love you so much, John Mercer,” Emma whispers to me after I’ve kissed her long and hard, eliciting more than a few cheers from our relatively small audience.

  “I love you more, Emma Mercer,” I reply, not able to help myself, bringing my lips to hers again and never wanting to stop.

  EMMA

  “Why are you crying?” John asks me, all of a sudden concerned.

  He’s just made love to me for the third or fourth t
ime in our small but luxuriously cozy cabin. We rented it for our honeymoon, and it sits at the edge of a crystal blue lake in Alberta, Canada. I feel warm and safe in his arms, my tears perhaps a strange response to that.

  “I’m just so happy,” I say, having to laugh at myself as I turn to him, his body just above and to the side of mine, his eyes piercing. “They’re tears of joy.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, not wholly convinced.

  “You should know I am.” I offer him a sweet scolding. “It’s just a little overwhelming, finally being your wife. There was a time I thought this kind of love wasn’t possible.”

  “Well, it is,” he says, inching his body against mine and kissing my forehead. “We’re living proof.”

  “And you’re sure it doesn’t bother you about your parents?”

  He laughs. “No. Maybe they’ll come around someday or maybe they won’t, but we have each other, and people that love us, and I’m so damn proud of everything you’re doing with your designs.”

  I blush, like I do almost every time John brings that subject up. “Well, we still have to see if I can sell them to more than a handful of people.”

  “The masses would be crazy not to buy them. Plus, you’ve got the whole eco and animal friendly thing going that people in Seattle love.”

  “Good point, John.”

  Seattle is definitely one of those cities where people are anxious to get beyond the status quo, something that has sparked interest in the small clothing and handbag design business I’ve started, using alternatives to leather and either manufacturing the designs myself or farming it out to several of my design student friends. It’s a tiny business, one where I do most of my sales at street fairs and farmer’s markets, but it’s something all my own, something I’m proud of.