UNFORGETTABLE (Able Series Book 3) (6 page)

I can’t deny either of us this connection. It’s when I can fully forget the darkness, the pain, how it plagues my mind while my heart is joyful because of her love. Her love for me is pure, while mine is tainted with secrets. I always feel this way when she’s with me, when I’m inside her as she completely loves all of me, and I selfishly accept it all.

I reach for a condom on the nightstand, she stops me and shakes her head; momentarily I’m brought back to what I’m running away from. Not wanting to answer her, I invade her mouth once again. Plundering it without mercy, drowning her mouth with my love while I prepare to engulf her completely with my cock inside her. My protection in place, I slowly slide inside her. Plunging into her as deep as I can go, needing to get lost in her . . . through her, with her, and because of her.

I thrust inside her hard . . . owning what’s mine as I slide out of her as gradually as I can, wanting her to feel the emptiness when I’m not buried deep inside her. But, slamming right back inside her as quickly as possible, not wanting to be uncovered from her warmth either. The moment she covers me snuggly, it sends electricity up my spine, lighting me up. It slowly creeps down the base of my spine; its current goes straight to my heart. Leaning in for a kiss I roll us over, demanding her body to ride me, to take me there, to completely lose it with her. Her hips move torturously slow, pulling me in . . . squeezing every inch of me as one hand lovingly caresses her breast, kneading, pulling . . . while the other plays with her hard overly sensitive trigger, pressing, flicking, causing her to whimper in ecstasy as her hips move faster, more needy this time . . . wanting more . . . reaching for our completion. Knowing we both desperately need to reach the pinnacle of pure rapture, I flip us over as I plunge into her, driving deep, fiercely seeking that magic button to shoot us to the summit of pleasure.

“Oh . . .” A throaty moan leaves her mouth as she spasms underneath me.

She calls out my name, gripping my hips with her thighs while her arms hold me securely against her chest, and I bury my face into her neck. I finally let go, pumping everything I have into her as hard as I can while I confess loudly the only truth my heart knows.

“Promise me forever, Tami. Love me forever, please.”

“Without end,” she answers truthfully and faithfully while my heart soars with no fear.

After my heart settles some, I pull out of her to discard the condom. I stay in the bathroom as long as possible, because now I have to face her after she just gave herself to me. Will she forgive me? Will she still love me tomorrow? As I take my first step outside my safety zone, my eyes land on the most beautiful woman who owns my heart . . . except my lies.

I go directly to grab fresh boxers, and as I turn to face her, she’s already looking at me, wearing the smile that makes my heart skip a beat. We stare at each other for a few seconds, silently urging the other to talk first. It seems both of us are about to confess something important, and we’re worried at the same time how the other will accept the confession.

She smiles and says, “I have a surprise for you.”

I smile back as I ask, “Oh, what is it?”

“We’re having a baby!” She sits up on her knees, looking at me with excitement in her eyes, and a smile on her beautiful face.

As soon as I hear the word ‘baby,’ my heart falls into the pits of hell. An unexplainable coldness surrounds me as fear coats me while I look at her with utter disbelief. How the fuck did this happen? I suit up! All.The.Fucking.Time!

Then, my blood boils over.

Fear comes in full force, controlling my brain, and shackling my heart. Faith takes a back seat, anger takes its cue from fear, and the ghost of my past finally emerges.

“What?” I question her. My voice neatly wrapped in a cover of indignation.

Her happy disposition changes to complete and pure shock. She clutches her belly with her right hand as the other covers her mouth, but a cry of pain escapes her lips anyway. I continue to look at her with displeasure covering my face.

I’m mad at myself . . . I’m mad at her . . . I’m fucking mad at the world.

“Answer me! I always suit up, Tami! You’re on the pill. It’s over kill here. So, please, explain to me how the hell this happened. Now!”

She wipes her face as she hides her body from me with a throw. Bravely, she walks toward me, though still shaken, she schools herself. When she stops right in front of me, she stares into my eyes, not with anger in hers but disappointment. However, at this point, I’ve already succumbed to the dark side . . . the dark side I’m hiding from; it’s finally caught up with me.

“You know as much as I do, the pill and condoms aren’t one hundred percent. Having said that, the night of my accident I missed a dose when I was in the hospital, and if I’m not mistaken, you took me twice without changing when you fucked me the morning I was released.”

I cringe inwardly when she described our union as fucking, because with her it’s never that. . . . it never will be. But that thought only stayed in my brain for a fleeting moment, because my fear’s strength is so strong rationale is nonexistent.

Pulling my hair and yelling in frustration I ask, “So, you knew then that you missed taking one. Why the hell would you . . .”

“Stop right there! I didn’t plan this or go behind your back. I know you’re shocked, but we are having a baby, Brian. It’s not as if I committed murder. It’s the exact opposite, because life has been gifted to us. Our child. Why are you so mad? Why? Help me to understand.”

Now, the avalanche of secrets start to unravel. I walk toward the window, not wanting to see her hurt face and unforgiving eyes on me. Admitting to her what happened years ago is as painful for me as it would be for her, because everything depends on me facing my fears. If I don’t. . . . if my fear of having another child wins, there won’t be an
us.

“I lost a child once, Tami.”

A loud agonizing gasp echoes behind me. I don’t turn around even though everything in me is screaming to, because seeing her eyes full of hurt will stop me from spilling everything. Everything needs to be expelled, right now. Every fear. . . . every secret. . . . every guilt.

“With Lorraine,” she says more like a statement than a question. I told her about Lorraine being my high school girlfriend, just not about me having a child with her.

“I was a senior in high school when Lorraine got pregnant.” A sad laugh escapes me, “I was warming up to the idea of having a child. I was ready to face it. She got over the first trimester, only to lose our child during the beginning of the second because I fucked her so hard that night.”

Another gasp fills the silence, only this time, it’s ten times the agony of the first. I brace my hands against the window sill to stop myself from holding her. The pain I’m in is a million times more than what she’s feeling, because I’m reliving my past and mixing it with my future—her and our child. She might not be able to accept it.

With a shaky voice, she says, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but maybe this time . . . with our child, it’ll bring healing instead of pain. You did love your child, right? You still do, I’m sure, because that’s the type of guy you are. So probably, even with your fears and doubts, you can learn to accept our having one.”

The sour taste of fear and dread prickles my tongue and poisons my heart and mind enough to say words that aren’t true. At this moment, all I know is I need to protect myself from pain, so I say, “I loved. . . . love my first child, but I don’t think I could risk loving and losing another.” That’s when I turn to face her . . . maybe I shouldn’t have.

Part misery and part rejection mask Tami’s face as her eyes question mine. Slowly, she backs away from me as clarity shifts on her face. I reach for her, realizing I shouldn’t have said what I said, but she starts shaking her head. Abruptly, she turns away from me as I hear her feet hitting the floor, followed by a loud bang of the door.

I didn’t mean it. . . .

Didn’t believe it for a second. . . .

My words were powered by my fears. They didn’t come from my heart, not at all; but it’s too late, the cut has been inflicted.

TAMI

I run out of our bedroom, straight to the guest room, locking the door behind me. My mind is still reeling from everything that came out of his mouth. How could I not know he lost a child? How could he have hidden it from me all this time? But, what hit me the most. . . . what hurts the most, was when he said he will not risk losing another. Risk what? Risk loving another child? Risk opening up? Risk facing his fears?

I rummage through the walk in closet for any old clothes. Luckily, I find old sweat pants and one of Brian’s old Marine shirts. After dressing, I climb into the bed, covering my head with the blanket, trying to hide myself from the world . . . maybe from the truth. As tears rapidly slide down my face, I quickly wipe them off. I guess, severe shock and hurt does that to someone’s tear ducts. They’re non-stop at this point with no end in sight.

“I loved. . . . love my first child but, I don’t think I could risk loving and losing another.”

His words play like a painful song in my head, making my ears and heart bleed from hearing them. . . . feeling them. He will never love our child . . . not now . . . maybe not ever, and another set of tears flow like lava across my face searing my flesh raw, burning my heart into ashes. I never thought I’d experience this kind of pain. I never thought. . . .

A knock on the door disturbs my crying fest, and a few seconds later, the door opens. The source of my heartache . . . the man I’d vow to love until death do us part if given the chance, walks in. Then I cry more, realizing I’ve lost that chance since my child and I are a package deal. If he can’t love my child . . . then he can’t have me. The thought overwhelms my body; I start shaking all over again. Until somewhere in the corner of my brain, an image of a child appears reminding me that my baby needs me to be strong for us.

“I’m sorry, Tami. I didn’t mean what I said . . .”

“Stop! Just stop!”

“Please, try to understand where I’m coming from. You are everything to me. . . . everything. I’m so fucking afraid to lose another child; the thought fucks with my head. I don’t want emptiness to surround me again when we lose . . .”

His words should comfort me, but they don’t. Instead, being around him is stifling. It’s like being in a house engulfed in flames, the need to flee is so intense, and the desire to take in fresh air is so great. I feel escaping is the only way to survive. I’m his everything, not
we
are his everything. That thought brings another fresh round of tears, leaving nothing but pain in their wake.

He pulls the blanket off of me, the spikes of anger are ready to aim and fire at will. “Stop! Don’t even think of finishing that stupid sentence. I.am.your.everything? It just isn’t me anymore, Brian. There’s a life inside me. How can you say that about your own child. . . . how can you say that about ours?” I stand up and level my eyes with his. I’m fighting so hard not to cry; I’m shaking so much. “Am I just a warm body you want to fuck whenever you feel like it, because that’s what it seems like to me? This part of your past that I should’ve known, I didn’t. You only shared half of yourself with me, and the most important part, where I could help heal or understand you, you chose to keep from me. Thank you for that. And, now you’re telling me you couldn’t risk loving and losing another. How dare you!”

“You don’t understand. YOU NEVER WILL!” He’s gritting his teeth so hard, I’m afraid they’ll crack. “I saw her in pain, trying to bring our child into this world lifeless, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. Worse, I did it to her! You can’t sit there and say you understand what the hell we’ve been through, or I’ve been through,” he angrily says, all the while pointing his finger at me.

Looking at him with his eyes almost bulging out in anger, and listening to his words of ‘their pain,’ ‘our child,’ and ‘seeing her in pain’ hurt me. I’ve never been an insecure person; but hearing the love of my life talk about another woman with pain and anguish in his voice while spewing venom at me about not understanding him cuts me to the core. He gives new meaning to pain, and my unwavering love for him, now has a chip in it.

I have no words, just whimpers paired with my tears because I can’t understand the pain he carries while trying to understand my own. My emotions are being pulled in different directions. Wanting to comfort him one minute, then wanting to lash out the next, then a huge stop sign hits me. Instead of dancing for joy because I’ve finally got what I want, I’m listening to nothing but past hurts and failed attempts. My silence . . . our silence becomes deafening and undeniable.

As if enlightened after lashing out at me, he whispers his next words, “Are you leaving me?”

I laugh while my tears betray me. “No, I’m not leaving you, Brian. How can I leave someone who has already left me? Or worse, someone I never had to begin with.”

“What are you talking about? I never left you! I.will.never.leave.you.” Blowing a frustrated breath, he softly says, “That’s why I never wanted to talk about this. It’ll only fuck with your mind more than it’s fucked with mine.”

“I . . . I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Walking toward the door ready to flee, he stops me as he wraps his arms around me, anchoring me against his chest. I don’t move. I don’t breath. I don’t feel. I’m doing a whole lot of nothing, but feeling a whole lot of everything.

“I love you, angel. Please.”

He begs for what? Forgiveness, understanding, acceptance, I can’t give him any of that at the moment. I’m all tapped out since regret, hurt, jealousy, fear, and apprehension are flooding my brain. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am. I’m jealous for myself, wanting him to be excited I’m pregnant as he was when Lorraine was pregnant. I’m jealous for my unborn child. I want Brian to be just as joyful as the first time . . . if not more. However, wishes and wants aren’t in great abundance right now.

“I know you do. Apparently, you don’t love me enough to trust that we can do this. That maybe, just maybe, this time will be different for you . . . for us. . . . for our child. But, it’s not worth it for you, is it?”