Beautifully Mine
Page 25
“I’m gonna go.” Brantley gives Bishop a weak smile.
I see Jacob take Savannah to the side, heading upstairs to the rooms.
Brantley watches as they walk away, starting to move toward the door to follow Ethan out.
“Wait.” Bishop stops him.
Brantley frowns but doesn’t move.
“You don't have to pretend.” He shakes his head softly, licking his bottom lip.
Bishop moves in front of him.
“You’re my brother.”
“Doesn’t mean anything, right? I mean, we hate each other, you hate me for what I did to Ethan. I don’t blame you.”
He runs his hands over his face, looking frustrated.
I want to walk away to give them some space, but I can’t get my legs to move.
“I regret it every day but knowing what my father wanted to do, I had to do whatever it took to protect him. That boy means everything to me.”
Tears fill his eyes, and I can tell Brantley means every word.
“You're a Demetrius, Brantley, you both are. I know we don’t share the same last name, but regardless, you are my brother, my sangue- blood.
“Piccolina, can you give us a moment.” Bishop smiles over at me, and finally my legs carry me upstairs.
I take one last look at my husband as I head to our bedroom,
placing my hand over my stomach.
“We’ll tell Daddy later, but know that no matter what, you will be loved, protected, and the most amazing gift we could ever ask for.”
I watch my wife ascend the stairs. Today isn't what she expected it to be. A day after our wedding, and everything has unfolded right at our door.
She never deserved it, to feel second best.
“You want a drink?” I head toward the bar, not waiting for Brantley to follow, because after that shit-storm, I need a stiff drink, and also knowing Jacob is probably defiling my little sister in my own home right now, maybe I need more than one.
“So what happens now?” he says as I hand him the amber liquid. He swallows it down in one gulp.
“We become a family.”
“I don't speak a word of Italian.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
I smirk and can’t help but chuckle myself.
“Until recently, I hadn’t spoken much of it. It reminded me of my, I mean, our mother.”
I pour more scotch into Brantley’s glass and refill my own.
“What was she like?” Hope glitters in his eyes.
Smiling as I remember the woman who was the most important person in my world, I say.
“Beautiful, kind, loving, the most amazing cook, and she spoke Italian all the time. Told me I should know where I came from, but after she...” I gulp down my drink, remembering it all.
“Did he make you clean it up?” Brantley asks, as if he already knows that’s what I’m hiding.
Unshed tears fill my eyes as I think of my father demanding I clean it up. I had to bury my own mother. No one helped me as I dragged her lifeless body outside. I was twelve, my mother was a small woman, but it took me hours. I was a mess by the time I got her to the backyard and dug a grave.
Being on the bigger side for my age helped, but it never made it easier finding her that way or covering her in dirt as I buried her.
I visited her grave every day until I finally left, knowing my mother is still there. That I left her behind because I was a coward who couldn’t face what I had done.
“I left her.” I nearly lost Callie. Losing them both would have killed me.
“You were just a kid, Bishop. He was a monster, just like my father. Ethan got out, but I didn't, but not once did he ever tell me. Fuck. My mother was dead, and he let me believe she had taken off to get away from this life.”
“I became a monster after that day. I mean, it was always there, but finding her like that. Lifeless.”
Brantley sighs.
“You gave our mother a burial, Bishop. Besides, we all have monsters inside us.”
He gives me a wary look, and as much as I want to, I know getting into that right now isn’t the smartest option.
“Look, Bishop, our lives are about to change, two families becoming one, but I want you to know, I got your back, and I think right now you should go spend some much-needed time with your wife.” He stands, handing me the glass.
“I got your back, too. I know we have had our differences, but know that no matter what, you’re famiglia- family, and we stick together.”
Brantley nods, and I observe as my brother walks out the front door. Dexter gives me a silent nod to let me know things downstairs have been taken care of.
Knowing my own father killed my mother, the guilt of what I did, I throw the glass, watching as it shatters against the wall.
Pain courses through me, taking my breath away.
For a few fleeting moments, I remember my mother as she was; the constant image of her in my head haunts me day in and day out.
She’s at peace.
My wife will never be second best.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, I go in search of my wife.
Callie’s head is back as she relaxes in the bathtub. I gaze at her for a few moments, knowing I have a whole lot of groveling to do.
“Why don’t you join me?” she says, opening one eye, peeking up at me.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead, before I toss my jacket on the chair, unbutton my shirt, and slip it off, throwing it on the floor near her pile of clothes.
“You are a goddess, my queen,” I murmur as my trousers fall to the floor in a heap.
“Well, I think you should worship me like one.” She giggles as she bites her lip.
“Oh, I plan to, piccolina. For the rest of my damn life.”
She sits back, letting me slide into place behind her, resting back on my chest, Callie sighs, and my hands rest over her bump.
“So fucking beautiful,” I murmur, kissing behind her ear.
Callie groans, gliding her hands behind my neck, pulling my mouth down to hers.
Kissing her will never grow old. The way I feel when her lips are on mine makes even the monster inside me tame.
I growl against her lips as I feel her smile.
“I have a surprise.” She turns in my arms, leaning over me.
My cock twitches against her leg. Callie rolls her eyes giving me a ‘really’ look.
“You're naked, wet, and grinding against me, what do you expect?” I cock an eyebrow.
Callie moves my hands over her stomach. The way the water drips down her body makes my cock very fucking hungry, but I watch as she leaves my hands in different places on her stomach.
“Piccolina, is everything okay with the baby?”
I missed the last ultrasound. I felt like an ass, but now I’m worried something is wrong, and she went through it alone.
She smiles and kisses my lips softly. The way her eyes light up makes my heart beat rapidly.
Something is wrong, it has to be?
“More than okay.” She places her hands over mine and smiles so huge her entire face lights up.
Swallowing down the massive fucking lump in my throat, I wait.
“Because, my husband.” Her fingers curl at the bottom of my hair as she watches me .
“There’s not just one, there's two.”
My jaw drops.
“Two?” I murmur.
Callie nods frantically. Excitement fills her face, and then I kiss her. I kiss her like I need her to breathe, because right now I do.
Pulling back, breathless, I say, “Twins?”
She nods.
Fuck.
I wasn't ready for one let alone two.
I don’t want to screw this up.
I can’t screw this up.
“Are you okay?” Callie asks, concern seeps from her.
“Yeah, just shocked. I don’t want to end up like my dad.” The real fear that I will be like him in every way is strong.
“You, Bishop Demetrius, will be an amazing father, and you know how I know that?”
I shake my head. Callie straddles my lap. Water splashes over the side, but she keeps going, her hands caressing my face as she makes it loud and clear.
“I won’t let you mess our boys up.”
“Boys?”
“That’s right Daddy, now please make love to me because I’m dying here.”
Callie squeals as I lift her and slip inside, her warmth covering me, squeezing me.
“Ti amo, cara- I love you, darling.” I whisper. My lips crash to hers.
“I need to tell you the truth about my mother.”
Callie frowns. My guilt for lying until now eats away at me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, hating how she is looking at me right now.
“Truth?’ She slides her arms down my chest letting them fall into her lap.
I sigh, hating this. I should have told her sooner, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words.
“It’s my fault, I buried her.”
Callie grips my jaw painfully as she forces me to look at her.
“Don’t you dare take the blame for him, Bishop, don’t you dare feel guilty for what he did to her.”
“He made me.” I swallow as tears fill my eyes. I close my eyes at the painful memory of my mother’s lifeless body covered in blood.
Callie grips my cheeks. Her own sadness falls as she licks her fallen tears.
“You, Bishop Demetrius, are not the monster you think you are.”
She runs her hands through my hair. Her simple touch makes the ache lessen, but the heaviness I feel still sits firmly in place.
“I love you no matter what, Bishop. I know you think you're a monster because of that, but you buried her, and you gave her peace.
Your father was the one who took her life.”
I know she’s right, but it still haunts me, probably always will.
“You’re taking this better than I expected.”
Callie sighs, leaning into me, her fingernails scraping along my jaw and she nibbles on her lip.
“I already knew, well, kind of.”
I force her upwards and sit forward, gripping her hands, holding them in front of me.
“What?”
My tone is sharp, and my grip tightens around my wife's wrists.
“My father wrote about it in the letter. I read it, Bishop, the day he gave it to me, I was just too scared to tell you.”
I run my hand down my face, frustrated.
“Bishop, you lied to me, you should have told me before we married. Even if I knew because of my father, you should have been the one to tell me.”
She is right, of course she is fucking right.
Fighting is pointless, being angry at my wife for my own lies is futile. That was our past. Right here, right now, is our future, and I plan on showing Callie every second what she means to me.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love you, piccolina?”
Callie smiles, placing a kiss across my jaw.
“Only always, and you know what, my husband?”
“What?”
“I love you too forever and always.”
I kiss her until we’re both breathless and needy for each other.
I will love Callie until I take my final breath.
I will give her a life of love and happiness, worship her endlessly, but most of all, she will always be beautifully mine.
Epilogue
Six months later
Watching my wife suffering is the most horrific thing I will ever endure, and knowing I can’t do a damn thing to help take away her pain is eating at me.
I feel helpless.
Callie scrunches her face up as another contraction hits her. Her hand squeezes mine, and her teeth bite down on her lip.
Callie is only thirty-six weeks and went into labor early this morning.
Our boys are coming.
The doctor and nurses have prepared us for the boys’ NICU stay. I didn’t even know what that was until one of the midwives explained it to me.
Callie’s tears coat her cheeks, and I do my best to wipe them away.
“Bishop, I’m scared.”
“Piccolina, you got this, baby, you are the strongest woman I know.”
“I can’t. What if something is wrong?”
“Ssh, baby, they are going to be just fine, they’re Demetriuses, they’re tough.”
Callie shakes her head, and I see the small smile she cracks.
Another contraction hits, and she tries her best to breathe through the pain.
Watching her like this...
Fuck.
“Okay, Callie, are you ready to meet your boys?” the doctor asks.
She nods.
“I think so. I’m scared.”
Doctor Gallie smiles, giving Callie’s leg a reassuring squeeze.
“You got this.”
Callie nods, and the doctor counts her down.
Callie pushes. Her entire face turns read, and I swear it looks like she might bust any second.
Jesus, childbirth is fucking crazy.
I rub Callie’s back, and she squeezes my hand until we finally hear that first cry.
My boy is loud, but looking at him, he’s so fucking tiny still. Tears fill my eyes.
“Okay, twin A is out. Let’s get his brother out. Callie, sweetie, you ready?”
Callie nods, and as I watch them carry my son to a table and clean him, Callie pushes again.
“You got this, baby.”
Callie screams. At the last second, our son’s cries fill the room.
Tears run down my cheeks as our second boy comes into the world with another loud cry.
Callie is exhausted, but I can see her looking for our boys.
One of the midwives rushes to my boy. Dread fills me.
They cover his tiny face with an oxygen mask.
“Bishop, what’s going on? I can’t see, is he okay?” Callie shoves me toward where our son lies lifeless.
“Why isn’t he moving?”
“Mr. Demetrius, please step back.”
“No, you need to tell me what is going on?”
I go to shove past the doctor, eager to get to my boy.
“Sir, please.”
I stand there, fucking useless as they clean one son and try to save the other.
I almost toss everything in the damn room when nothing happens. I look over at Callie who has broken down. She can’t breathe.
I watch my wife struggle for air when she can’t hear our son.
They take our first-born, Nicco, to Callie. She holds him to her chest. She is so exhausted she can’t hold him, but the midwife places him as close to her as she can.
She gazes down at him, and her tears are of joy as she stares down at the tiny baby they have placed on her chest.
But I can’t move.
I need to know Astor is okay. I need him to be okay.
A tiny cry echoes through the room, and my entire weight feels like it collapsed as they place a tube into his nose and a blue tube hooks over his face.
“Mr. Demetrius, we need to get them to the NICU.
I nod, but the doctor brings Astor to Callie and places him beside his brother.
My heart just about explodes when I see my family.
My entire fucking universe in one moment.
Callie looks up at me, and finally my feet carry me to her.
Kissing her temple, I stare down at my sons.
A midwife places bands around their ankles and feet and even a Twin A and Twin B tag with their time of births.
Three minutes apart.
“Daddy, are you coming with them?” the doctor asks.
“Bishop, please, I don’t want them to be alone.”
I nod, kissing my wife before I follow my sons out.
It feels like hours until they finally wheel Callie in. They have placed the boys beside each other, and I sit firmly between them,
&n
bsp;