by C C Monroe
“I still want you, let me take you again, Shayla?” He says my name like it’s something he needs now. I nod, a smile forming on my face.
“Take me.”
“Fuck.”
Just like that he takes me again, filling me with love and sweeping me off my feet. I am a woman obsessed.
STAYING INSIDE ME, HE WRAPS me in his arms, rolling over so I’m on his chest. We’re both silent, the only noise is the outside world hustling around us.
“I miss him.” His voice cracks loudly in the quietness. I take a second before I let my eyes drift to his face. It’s impassive, leading me blindly.
“Me, too. I’m glad you read the letter…do you wanna talk about it?”
He stares blankly at the ceiling. “I needed that, ya know? I’ve been so caught up in everything happening with his passing that I haven’t sat down to just think about him and what he would want.” Finally breaking our connection, he turns me so he can cradle me, my back to his front. I enjoy the soft kisses he peppers on my neck and shoulder.
“I felt selfish,” he tells me. I’m not sure as to why he would be thinking he’s selfish. He fought for me to come back to him, he’s learning to forgive his mother, who I don’t trust, but that’s my issue. He proposed to me and asked me to start a family.
Family.
I tense at the thought, the secret I’m hiding deep within weakening me, making me feel like a terrible person. I hate this, maybe I should tell him. Not maybe, I need to.
“You’re not selfish, not at all. You’ve been so selfless since your dad left. You’ve managed to still fight for me when I was the selfish one and you’re forgiving Gwen.” I turn in his arms, bringing my face close to his, losing myself in his blue eyes. Guilt consumes me, pushing me in the black pit of secrets.
I shoot up out of bed and grab his button-up shirt. He looks confused by my sudden change, but I need distance before I tell him everything. This secret has the ability to go one of two ways, either up or down, I pray for up.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Standing to put his briefs on, he moves toward me while I’m on the final button of his top.
“I just…I think you need to sit down.” I wipe the hair from my face and start pacing back and forth, the familiar sting of tears burning my eyes, my nose starting to run.
“Okay, but you’re scaring me, what’s going on?” Sitting on the bench in front of my bed, with his back tall and his legs spread, I stop in front of him. My mind is fighting so many emotions. I can’t pick whether I need to cry, scream, or beg for forgiveness before he even knows what I’m about to say. I’m choking on my own sobs, trying to keep them at bay, but it’s useless.
“Trey, a couple of months back,” I start, my lip quivering; my eyes heavy with tears blurring my vision. “I had severe pain so I went to the doctor and thought maybe I was pregnant.” I can’t even finish my sentence when I collapse at his feet. He doesn’t deserve another heartbreak; he’s been through enough.
“Shayla! Baby! What the fuck is wrong?” Picking me up and nursing my wounds, he cradles me in his lap, my legs hanging over his knee, my back in the crook of his arm. I soak his chest in my tears. This is the first time in this situation where I have felt sorry for someone else and not myself.
“Please, baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Trey, I went to the doctor and I—”
“Did you lose the baby?” Sorrow doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I can tell he’s feeling, all by the look on his face. Trey looks lost, just like I feel. I hurry to ease his worried mind.
“No…no…nothing like that, you see…” I take a deep breath, bringing it back in the best I can. This will probably not make sense, but I can’t think of an easier or simpler way to tell him what’s going on.
“I have tumors on my uterus, and they told me I may never be able to conceive.” I don’t over speak; I don’t even attempt to over explain. I tell it like it is, in idiot’s terms. What else is there to say that he will understand anyway?
Regardless of how serious this is and the health condition I am in, I lied to Trey—okay, hid a secret from him. I wait for him to push me away and yell at me, scream at me, or have some grand gesture that may crush me, but still be well deserved.
“You’ve been carrying this all by yourself, Shay?” Unlike moments ago when my name was an erotic whisper, it’s now a dull, lifeless being.
“Yes, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to leave me.” I sound desperate, a woman so scared to lose her millions she would do anything to keep it.
“Baby, I would never fucking leave you. Especially for that. This isn’t your fault and he said you may not be able to, but that it’s not impossible, right?” I bob my head rapidly, clinging to the hope he found in everything hopeless.
“That’s what they said, it’s a low possibility, but part of me still clings to that small possibility. I don’t have any other choice, baby.” I drop my head, embarrassed. Do I sound stupid for holding out for something even science is telling me may never, ever happen? Where do I let science stop and let faith kick in?
Kissing my temple, he nudges my cheek with his chin, pushing me to look at him. I do, but with a heavy weight on my shoulder. “Then we won’t stop trying or giving up until we’re told indefinitely.” I’m surprised—baffled—completely knocked on my butt by his words. Trey isn’t even showing one ounce of anger.
“You’re not mad that I hid it from you?” Standing, he carries us toward my bathroom.
“No, I’m sad, if anything, that you had to go through this by yourself. We’re a fucking team, baby. That means we need to tell each other things,” he stresses with a stern tone. “Getting married is a promise to fight all battles and struggles together, so we need to start now.” I’m floored that he’s forgiven me, that he wasn’t even mad at me in the first place.
Loving someone like I love Trey cannot be summed up by one word. He makes me feel cherished, no matter what we’re going through. What kind of man would just shrug off something like this and chalk it up to being more about me opening up to him than pissed that I hid a secret this big? I would have thrown a fit if the roles were reversed, I know that whole-heartedly. Maybe that’s the difference between him and I? Maybe this is why he’s my other half, the better side of me, the parts of me that I’m no good at.
“Your dad was right.” I kiss his chest as he sets me down, my feet touching the cold tile of my bathroom. “We’ll face many trials, but we can survive it together.”
“I will always keep you, you’re mine. If we can’t have children, we’ll adopt. I’ll make us a family, Shayla.” Trey promises me. His words may be sweet, but the impact hits harder, striking into me with a loud thud. I feel useless, resenting myself for him, because he shouldn’t have to settle.
I sob into his chest, the tears now heavier than before. He’s being way too good to me, way too sweet, making me feel like I’m being crushed by mountains of guilt.
“I was so upset when I found out. I felt like I was letting you down.”
“Oh, baby, no. Never.” Scooping me into his strong, warm arms, he rocks us back and forth. “This is why I wish you would have told me, Shay… You shouldn’t have gone this long feeling this alone. Hating yourself for no damn reason.”
“But I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t need you to suffer another loss—another letdown. This year has been so hard on you and I. We have faced way too much crap, especially you. I didn’t want to hurt you.” Pushing me back, he frames my face with his hands, with a determined purpose. The blue irises that I love are lined in red, water puddling around the edges. He’s going to cry, feeling everything right here beside me—together.
“Hey, you listen to me. Nothing could hurt me more than knowing you’re suffering any kind of pain. That shit guts me. Fucking rips my goddamn heart out.” Letting one of his hands free, he balls it into a fist and slams it against his chest, just above his heart, over and over. The loud so
und bouncing off the bathroom walls, the intensity of the force causing me to cry harder as his chest reddens. My sobs uneven and loud.
“Stop!” I reach for his hand, stopping him from pounding it more; scared it will mar his perfect skin. Trey is losing control, spiraling down with me into the black pits of misery. Only difference is that I have been down here for months now—alone.
“No, I fucking love you, baby. I need you to understand that this doesn’t change anything between us, this isn’t your fault.” Dipping his face to my eye level, he bands his arm around my lower waist, pulling me up and into him. My palms lay gently across his beet-red chest. My mind is at war, not sure where we go from here.
“Tell me you fucking get it, Shayla,” he demands, leaning into me, his lips inches from mine, our foreheads touching. My still ever-pressing tears cascading down my cheeks.
“I can’t, I feel like I’ve failed you.”
“Damn it, baby. Please stop crying.” Leaning into me, Trey kisses with puckered lips, the tip of his tongue making a path from my chin up to just under my eyes, cleaning up my tears, like an animal tending to his wounded mate. My sobs are broken and choppy, while he tries to nurse me back from hell. I start to claw at him, wanting him closer to me. Wanting him to prove to me that I’m not broken, that I’m still needed by him, that I’ll always be his treasure.
“I love you, Trey. Please don’t ever let me go,” I unashamedly beg, my voice hoarse as he kisses my neck, my chin, my eyes, all over my face—his attempt at healing me.
“Never. I can never let you go.”
“Take it away, take this all away,” I further beg.
“Anything. What can I do?” he asks, lifting me up into his arms, my legs banding around his waist. I feel small and dainty in his muscular ones.
“Don’t fuck me, Trey. Make love to me.”
“Oh, baby.” He whispers on a pained strain, his brows drawing in. “Always.” He finishes his promise, carrying us back to the bed.
Laying us both down, he places me on top, sitting astride his waist. Trey lies completely flat on the bed, his head resting on my pillows. He starts growing under me, his cock rising while looking up at me. Reaching my hand down between us, I start stroking him, the warmth of his silky cock in my hands dampens me between the legs, preparing my body for his thick invasion.
“You look like an angel above me,” he whispers, his thumb reaching up and lightly grazing my nipple then flattening his palm under my breast to knead it gently.
I don’t say anything, I just listen, taking his words of praise and absorbing them into my soul. I need this slow and soft. I need the gentle Trey, my lover.
“You ready, baby?” he asks, his cock fully erect in my palm. I nod and release him, planting my hands on his chest, he catches my hips and slowly guides me down his shaft, inch by inch. Our eyes both glued onto our connection. It’s breathtaking, literally. My breathing stops in this moment with Trey, my heart aching to feel worthy, to feel whole. With each inch, our connection bonds us together, making us one.
I wince when he thrusts the rest of the way in.
“You okay, angel?” I nod, my lip pinched between my teeth.
We’re both lost right now, this isn’t easy on him, just as much as it’s not easy on me. The knowledge of this worries me; I know he won’t make this about him. Trey’s going to let me feel the pain, let me break on him after months of constant loneliness. I cherish that about him, I envy him for being so understanding with me. He could have thrown his hands up and walked away, but he didn’t. Here he lies under me, joined with me as one, trying to fix the broken in me. I want him to know though, that his pain is just as acceptable as mine is.
“Yes,” I whisper, pushing against his chest, I slowly begin to rock my hips. His rough hands land on my thighs, moving against them in slow motion. Traveling from my thighs up to my hips, he pinches the skin on my hipbone lightly. Those little, insignificant touches, so random but yet more raw and passionate than the typical moves made during lovemaking.
The slickness of my arousal is mixed with his thick cock, feeling heavenly inside me. My body hums, coming alive with the feel of him invading me, owning me, making sweet love to me.
I assess him while he admires my body, his one hand gripping my hip while his other lightly grazes over my pebbled nipple. I sear the rugged features on his handsome face into my brain. His sandy blond hair a mess on his head, his stubble shadowing his jaw, his pouty, full lips slightly agape. Those eyes, my heaven, my favorite paradise, shimmer in the dark. The light from the bathroom giving them a tiny ring in the middle. I feel like I am looking at Trey for the first time again. Fourteen years I have been by his side as his best friend, but for the first time, it feels like I’m seeing him as a reflection. That reflection in his eyes mirrors my bared soul—we are whole.
You could encompass a dictionary, search its words front to back and never find enough words to justify the love I hold for Trey.
Tonight, I told him my secret, the secret I was so scared his wretched mother would tell. Now his mother has nothing to tell, nothing to hang over my head. Yet, there is another secret hanging in the balance. I know we said no more secrets, but tonight we shared enough, enough of a painful confession. I will tackle the other tomorrow.
“Look at you…such a small woman with great power.” He brings me out of my troubles and back into the here and now. Reaching up with his long muscular arm, he sweeps my fallen hair from my face, collecting it and holding it by my ear while he cradles my face. I smile through my fading tears; only a few lone ones make their way out, landing on his chest, drying within seconds on his hot skin.
“Hey, no more crying, please, baby, no more crying,” he pleads, pulling my face to his, kissing my swollen, salty, tear-stained lips.
Connecting our foreheads, he whispers against my lips, “Forgive yourself, Shayla, let go. This isn’t your fault and we will always have hope.” My movements slow.
“I want to, I want to let go. I want to believe in hope,” I confess, and within a split second Trey moves into sitting position, his back now off the bed, his chest flat against mine.
“I refuse to let go of that hope, because that hope will always see us through, baby.”
Not only does the promise of that hope renew mine, it binds me to Trey even more. A love with hope like ours is such power.
“You always pull me through.” Doing what he asks, I forgive myself. I let go of the resentment and hate that I hold toward myself. Forgiving myself for hiding this from Trey.
“I love you, baby,” I whisper back. With that we finish speaking, only talking with our bodies.
Crossing my arms around his neck, my hands find his hair and tangle themselves there while I use all my thigh strength to push up from the bed, riding him slowly and thoroughly. His hands use my hips to speed up the pace and for three hours straight we made love on and off again, no dirty words, no kinky ways, just a man and a woman healing.
“I like the pink roses with the white tulips for the bouquet. What do you think, L?”
“Yes, then we can line the pathway to the aisle in the pink roses!” Lana exclaims; she’s been the most excited about finding flowers for the wedding. Trey and I decided a small wedding was best. No extended friends or family, just our small tight-knit group.
Last night was such an emotional, yet intoxicating night that I need some comic relief for a hot second with my favorite foul-mouthed brunette—besides my brother. Speaking of, I need to call him. I would love to spend some alone time with Kingston to talk and catch up. I feel with everything going on lately, we haven’t been as close as we used to be and that is something I’m not gonna let happen—even after my wedding.
“Mom, what do you think?” I look to the sofa next to me and smile down at Kathy. I love how much time we’ve spent together due to planning my wedding. I like to think it’s given her the perfect distraction from losing Pops, maybe a new sense of purpose.
“Perfect
and elegant, just like you.” I smirk, thankful for her constant kind words. I chose to leave my mom out of this part, she hates roses and I love them. Arguing with her all day isn’t something I felt like doing, especially after the debacle at the wedding dress shop.
“Thanks, Mom. Okay, we’ll take these. I’m going to run and get some coffee, want anything?”
Lana speaks first, jumping up and down, a bit too overly excited. “Yes, I want a chai tea—hot—and a doughnut.”
Doughnut, Lana doesn’t eat doughnuts. Weird.
“I’m good, sweetie. Thanks though,” Kathy answers.
“Okay. I’ll be back. If you want to meet me at the dress shop down the street for my fitting, I’ll just meet you there.” They agree to do so, letting me go on my way. Walking out onto the busy street, the fresh air feels reviving, the added smell of coffee from across the way screaming to all my senses.
Luckily, the line is small and I don’t have to wait forever for them to take my order. After paying, I find a seat and wait for them to call my name. Checking my phone, I smile at the picture of Trey and me in California on the beach. We both look so happy, I’m on my back in the white sand, him on top of me, kissing his cheek while he smiles at the camera to the side of us. He looks so happy, his smile white and his grin spread wide. His fresh tan making him look tall, dark, and handsome. Take me back to that place?
“I have a chai tea, chocolate doughnut, and a black coffee with low fat milk, for Shayla.” I go to stand when a familiar face gains my attention. I squint my eyes to double-check I’m not seeing things. Sure as daylight, it’s Gwen, with a younger man, a much younger man, holding her hand and whispering in her ear.
At first I’m repulsed, he’s pretty good-looking and Gwen isn’t hideous, but she’s not that good-looking to bag a hottie like this twenty-something-year-old. She doesn’t notice me at first. After collecting my order, I head to her table. Little does she know that tonight I’m telling Trey about her little threat. After last night, I decided to never keep secrets from him, knowing darn well that he will always love and support me—he will always believe me above all else.
