by Emma Louise
I want to love on her in front of the whole world, but instead we’re thousands of miles apart, and it’s all my fault.
“What are you doing hiding in here?” The door to my office opens, and my dad walks in, taking a seat in front of my desk. “You should be celebrating. You did a hell of a job with Jonah.”
“Just trying to get ahold of Bree.” I wave the phone at him.
“Where is she now? How’s she liking it so far?”
“She’s in Rome for the next few days, then she’s heading to Greece.” I sigh “She says she’s enjoying it, but she’s a shit liar,” I tell him. “I see it when she FaceTimes; she’s trying, but she’s just … off.” He remains quiet, knowing I’m not done speaking. He waits patiently for me to get my thoughts in order.
“Did I do the right thing?” I ask the question that’s kept me awake for weeks now.
“You did what you thought was best.”
“For her? Or for me?” I scoff.
“Stop beating yourself up; you did what you thought was best for both of you,” he says sharply.
“Dad—”
“What are you doing, son?” softening his tone.
“What kind of question is that? I’m here! I’m working every damn day!” I slam my glass down on the desk, ignoring the liquid that splashes over the side. “I’m trying to be the best I can fucking be for my son.”
“You remember when I was sick?” His question silences me.
It was over ten years ago, but it isn't something I'm ever likely to forget. Keir and I were just finishing college, he was going to the NFL, I was working my way up to fighting professionally. Then Dad got sick. Cancer. We’d rallied, got him through appointments, and did what had to be done. But I'd never, not as long as I lived, forget how he looked when he was fighting to beat that disease. How my giant of a father looked broken and frail.
“You think I was lying in that bed, sure as heck I was going to die, regretting the weekends I spent at home with you boys? Do you think I was laid up thinking I wish I'd worked more? Missed date nights with your mother?”
“I get what you’re saying bu—”
“No buts about it, son. Nothing in this life is promised.” He stands, ready to leave as if he didn’t just knock me on my ass.
“He’s right,” my brother interrupts from where he’s leaning against the door. I didn't even notice him coming in.
“What is this? Some kind of intervention?” I ask, knowing if they’re both cornering me in here, there’s something they want to say, something they want me to hear.
“Hell yes, it is,” Keir says, standing next to our dad, arms crossed over his chest and his face determined.
“It’s too late,” I mutter, tipping what’s left of the glass of bourbon back and relishing the burn it leaves behind.
“Is it?” my dad asks quietly.
“Brother, if you only ever take one thing I say seriously, let it be this,” Keir says, leveling me with the serious expression on his face, “Don’t waste time like I did. It’s never too late.”
It's never too late.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I mutter impatiently at my phone. I’ve been trying to get through to TJ since last night, and for some reason none of my FaceTime calls are working. The internet connection is so shitty here. Luckily, I’ve managed to speak to him through text messages and an all too brief phone call, but it’s been three days since I last saw him and Abel. Seeing them on a tiny screen doesn’t compare to the real thing, but it’s better than nothing.
I give up after trying to get through to him one last time. Sending him a text asking him to call me, I put the phone into the pocket of my shorts and head down to the beach.
I’ve been away for three weeks. Twenty-one days.
And I begrudgingly admit that TJ was probably right to force me to do this. I’ve seen so much, experienced so many things. If I hadn’t have come, I'd probably would have always wondered what I might have missed.
When I landed in London, I was desperate to turn around and get the first flight home. My first day there, I walked the streets and hated every step I took. It wasn’t until I started doing the things my mom had talked about wanting to do that my attitude adjusted. As I ticked the sights off the list she’d unknowingly made for me, I’d found an appreciation for TJ and his determination to get me here.
With new eyes, and new resolve, I vowed to make the most of my time here.
I’ve seen Paris and the Eiffel Tower lit up at night.
I’ve seen the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.
I’ve seen the Vatican and the Parthenon.
And I’ve done it all with part of me missing.
All my life I wanted to leave Savannah, to travel the world, because I wanted more. More than feeling trapped like my mom felt. But I realize now I feel the opposite of that when I’m with him. With them.
I felt like I was where I was meant to be. And I fucking miss them. With everything in me, I miss them.
“Good evening, Miss Breeze,” one of the waiters, Spiro, says as I climb on to the stool and drop my purse on the worn wooden bar. I’ve been at a small beach resort on one of the Greek islands for the last few days, and aside from the shitty internet connection, it’s one of my favourite places I’ve been so far. Accepting a small beer from the bartender, I turn around on my seat so I’m facing the ocean. Closing my eyes, I let the sea breeze wash over me. The sun is close to setting, and the burnt orange sky is turning inky at its edges. The water gently laps at the rocks that line the shore.
“It’s a beautiful night, yes?” Spiro asks from behind me.
“It really is.” I sigh, not taking my eyes off the view. I watch as the sun sets, kissing the ocean as it goes. As it disappears below the horizon, I'm hit with a fresh wave of loneliness. Another day here, on my own.
Without TJ. Without Abel.
It's taken me leaving them to realize something. I can be anything I want to be, go anywhere in the world I want to go. But the truth is, I only want to be his. To be with them.
I can’t help but wonder if this is what my mom would have really wanted for me, for any of her kids.
I realize that what I always thought of as her dreams, were not just hers. She wanted to travel, to see the world, but more than that, she really wanted to do it with my dad at her side.
What’s the point of seeing all these amazing things without the one you love by your side? How did I ever think I’d be able to do this while TJ sits at home, his life on pause until I’m done roaming.
What the hell am I doing here?
I need to go home. Now.
Sweeping my purse from the table, I yank out a few euros. Throwing them on the bar to pay for my drink, I shout a goodbye to Spiro before turning to run to my room. I need to find a decent computer because I'm booking a flight home. Right now.
Searching for the room key as I rush up the steps to my room, a loud squeal stops me in my tracks. I drop the purse I was just digging in as my head flies up.
I know that sound.
My eyes land on the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, more beautiful than any of the places I've been or things I've seen over these long few weeks.
My boys. They came for me.
My breath stutters, and my hands fly to my mouth to stop the sob that threatens, but it’s pointless.
TJ is here. If I reach out, I can touch him. He's here, and he’s holding Abel.
When I don’t move, he walks toward me. Abel isn’t patient either, and he stretches his chubby arms toward me. He’s grown so much. FaceTime calls haven’t shown me just how much he’s changed.
“Are you really here?” I sob. My emotions bubbling out of me.
“We’re really here, baby.” TJ chuckles
Lifting Abel into my arms, I pepper his little face with kisses as TJ pulls me into his arms.
I melt into them both.
“What are you doing here?” I finally manage to say around the tears that won
’t stop.
“I decided it was time to stop being an idiot.” He laughs lightly, and the sound fills me up.
“I’m here because I love you, and you love me,” he tells me resolutely. “I’m here because I fucking missed you,” he says against my lips. “I missed not being able to kiss you anytime I wanted. I missed sleeping next to you. I missed every fucking thing about you, sweetheart.” He kisses me before I can say anything in reply. He kisses me so deeply, so urgently.
“I’m here because nothing makes sense without you.”
We might be thousands of miles away from Savannah, but I’ve never felt more at home than I do right now.
“Shhh!” Abel says, slamming a sticky hand over my lips when I open my mouth to speak. “Mama sweeping,” he tells me sternly, like I can’t see Bree curled up asleep on the bed in front of me.
“I know, bud,” I whisper back, pulling his hand away. Closing the bedroom door softly, I drop Abel into a seat.
“See my baby?” he asks, leaning over the crib that’s pulled up next to the bed.
“Careful, bud.” I stop him from poking the sleeping baby. “Your baby brother is sleepy.” But it’s too late, wide, gray eyes blink up at me from the crib. Eyes identical to how Abel’s were at a few days old.
Lifting our baby out of the crib, I settle into the chair next to Abel.
“Baby!” he says, making grabby hands like he expects me to hand over his new brother.
“When Mama wakes up, you can hold him, okay?”
“Hmmkay,” he says, jutting out a little lip in protest. Placing the new baby against my chest, I wrap my arm around Abel and pull him in closer, reveling in the feeling that holding both of my sons close brings.
Who the fuck would have thought that I’d ever be a father to two amazing little boys like this?
The last two years have been a dream come true. A dream I didn’t realize I could have until Breeze.
Without a doubt, taking that flight to surprise her was the best decision I ever made in my life.
We’d ended up spending another month finishing the tour of Europe that she’d planned. Doing it with Abel in tow wasn't easy, but it was more than worth it to see Bree lit up with excitement.
It took approximately fifteen minutes after arriving home in the US for me to convince her to move in with us officially.
It was approximately another five minutes after that, that I had my ring on her finger.
She was my wife within a month.
I’ll never forget the sight of her walking toward me that day. We were married in our backyard, next to the lake she loves so much. Wearing a long white dress, her hair once again pink, she carried Abel down the aisle with her.
It took much longer to give Abel a sibling than either of us wanted.. Not for lack of trying, it just didn’t happen for us right away. Yet another day I’ll never forget, the day she stood in our bathroom, little white stick in her hand, and tears running down her face. I didn’t think I could love her any more than I already did, but her giving me a chance to be part of all the things I missed with Abel, that was a gift. One I cherish every fucking day.
Somewhere along the way, Abel had grown. What felt like overnight, he suddenly started walking and talking. His first word was dada. I’m man enough to admit that the sound of that almost brought me to my knees.
His second word was mama, and I felt that word too. Abel will grow up knowing all about Willow, I wouldn’t have it any other way, but Breeze is his mother in every way possible. In every way that matters.
She adopted him when we married, but that piece of paper makes zero difference to how she loves him.
“Look at my three favorite boys.” Bree’s sleepy voice brings me out of my thoughts. She looks tired but still so fucking beautiful. Looking at her now, you’d never think she gave birth just a few days ago. Fifteen hours of labor, an almost nine-pound baby, and she looks like that? Yeah, I'm a lucky guy.
Leaning over, I slide my hand behind her head, into her hair, and pull her in for a kiss.
“Morning, beautiful,” I whisper, not taking my lips off hers.
“Mama!” Abel yells, startling the baby and interrupting the sweet moment.
“Hey, my gorgeous boy.” Breeze laughs as he launches himself at the bed.
“My baby,” he says once he’s settled next to her, making the same grabby hands motion again.
“We need to give him a name. Before Abel convinces him it’s just baby,” I joke as I put him gently in Abel’s waiting arms.
“What about Theodore? Theo for short,” my wife says, staring at me with tired, but bright eyes.
My heart squeezes in my chest.
“Baby...” I can’t find the words to tell her what it means to me that she would even think of giving him my name.
It's taken a long time, but over the years Bree has shown me it’s okay to let go of the guilt I carried over Willow and almost missing out on knowing my son. I can’t change my past actions, but I can and have tried my best to be a good husband, brother, and above all, father.
Breeze telling me she wants to name our son after me is the validation I'll probably always be searching for on some level.
“Boys!” yelling out the kitchen window, I see three little heads turn my way. “Daddy will be home in ten minutes. Toys away or you’re not going on the boat!”
Abel jumps from his seat and immediately starts to pack away the game he was playing. My boy is almost six-years-old, and he is the sweetest soul. I watch a while longer as he moves around the table to help Theo with his mess too. Just like Abel, Theo is the spitting image of his father. From the dark hair, to the even darker eyes, they look exactly like him, all our boys do. Where Abel is the sweet and affectionate one, Theo is a brute. He'd rather wrestle than cuddle, but that’s okay. It just makes his rare shows of affection all the sweeter when they happen.
“Mama!” my baby boy shouts at me, a huge grin on his face. Gabe was a surprise baby for us. After a year of trying for a baby before we had Theo and all the heartache that came with it, I was unsure if trying for a third child would ever be something I could do.
Turns out, it didn’t matter what I thought because despite being on birth control and breastfeeding Theo, I'd gotten pregnant again within months.
Three boys under six definitely isn’t for the faint of heart. They keep me so busy that I hardly have a minute to myself. The only yoga I get to do these days is here at home with my boys.
I wouldn’t change a second of my life for anything, though.
Tightening the straps on Abel’s life jacket, I'm about to lift him into the boat when he grabs a hold of my arm.
“Love you, Mama,” he says before turning and climbing into the boat by himself, completely unaffected, like he didn’t just kick my world of its axis.
“Love you, Mama!” the rest of my boys shout as the boat starts to move away.
My heart is fit to burst.
“Love you, babies!” I shout in reply.
“Love you, wife!” TJ cups his hand around his mouth so his voice will carry across the water. The grin on his face is blinding.
I have no idea what I did to deserve this life, but I thank God every single day that I get to live it.
Also available
She was my first love.
She was my everything.
We were college sweetheart. The all-American couple.
Until the big time came calling.
Misunderstandings and miscommunications lead to broken hearts and broken trust.
But fate throws me a second chance when our paths cross again.
Now Poppy has to decide if she’s ready to take another try at forever with me, or if the past is better left behind us.
I know this is my final down. My last opportunity to make it right, but Poppy's going to need a little more convincing.
Throwing out a Hail Mary, I’ll give it all I’ve got.
With a little luck, this time I may just be abl
e to Score.
Available in Kindle Unlimited
He's my best friends' brother.
She's not over her ex.
Elliott.
I should have seen it coming, my world being shattered by the man that was supposed to love me. But I didn't and now I'm trying to find the pieces of me he left behind.
Duke.
I can't fix her, not when I'm just as broken as she is. I should leave her alone, she's too good for me. But, fighting the attraction that pulls us together is getting harder every day.
It doesn't take long until we're a tangle of limbs and pleasures.
No promises are made, no guarantees.
Just a vow to keep our hearts out of the bedroom.
Simple, right?
Except, now we both have to try and avoid getting cut on each other's broken parts.
Available in Kindle Unlimited
Brenda - I say it all the time, but I'd be lost without you. Thank you for everything. I’m excited to see what the future holds for us.
My Alpha readers – Nicole and Lily. Thank you for everything you do and for listening to me when I'm whining.
My beta readers – Julia and Leeann. Thank you for taking the time to read this when it was a rough draft. Your feedback is invaluable.
Cornelia – thank you for letting me steal that opening line. It was exactly the line I didn’t know I needed.
Silla – thank you for not hating me when I miss my deadline. Thank you for being so patient when even I can’t remember what the heck it was I was trying to say.
My cover artist, Mary Ruth - I have no idea how you still work me after I changed this cover image approximately six thousand times. Thank you for always making my vision come to life.
My reader group and my review team – LOVE YOU ALL! Thank you for all your support.
Bloggers and Bookstagramers – thank you all for the love and support you’ve shown me. It blows my mind when I see one of you sign up to review one of my books. I know and appreciate how much hard work you guys put in to blogging and I can’t thank you enough.
