Happily Ever After: A Romance Collection

by Amelia Wilde

  Dad mentioned it once. I told him it was also a possibility that a civilian would cross the street and get run over by a bus leaving me a widow. There’s no point in rehashing my past. This is one of those times where he could say, “I told you so.” He never did. Instead, Dad procured me and pushed me to get out of the depression I felt into after Michael’s death.

  “I made so many mistakes, Aspen. Innocent people went to jail. Others were sent to the wrong facility.” His eyes open; they harbor sadness, regret. I wish he would forget the past and live in peace for the next few days or weeks. “I did everything in the name of my children. I wanted to have enough money so we could be happy and look at me now, I won’t take any of that with me. My wife is unhappy, and my son hates me.”

  “I love you,” I remind me.

  “For how long?” he retorts, I forget how to breathe with that question. “I only ask you to forgive me. Please, don’t hate me, I—”

  Dad starts coughing, blood splatters on my pink turtleneck. Switching gears I press the button calling the nurse and sit him up, holding his brittle frame against my body. Rubbing his back gently.

  “Try to breathe slowly, through your nose.” Don't lose the patient, Aspen, don't lose him. “Close your mouth and let’s try to count your breaths.”

  “I—I can't…anymore,” he gasps between coughs. “I'm tired, but I need you to promise me.”

  “What do you need me to promise?”

  “Forgive me for everything. Help others.” Another round of cough, I continue holding him. “Use it to fix what I did. Find a way to be happy without giving your life to the job. Spend time—”

  “Daddy, stop talking. Please, don’t use the energy you have. We can talk later.”

  “No. Let me go.”

  It dawns on me, he wants to go. With a heavy heart, I hug him tighter mustering the most painful words I’ve said in years. “I promise to follow your instructions. Please, don't worry about us. We’ll be fine, it's time for you to leave. I love you, Daddy.”

  His head falls slightly on my shoulder. The sound of the heart monitor changes. A flat, deafening sound that I'm used to hearing pierces me right in the chest. It makes my heart bleed and the tears I held run freely through my cheeks. Today I don't call the time of death. I hang on to my father tightly for one last time.

  15

  Anderson

  “Did I lose you?”

  Aspen’s eyes stare at the wall, sucking on her buttom lip and pulling the hem of her flouncy floral shirt.

  She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes tightly and swallowing hard.

  “Dad, I was with Dad for a few seconds,” she sighs the words. Then, glancing over me, she smiles. “He would’ve hated you.”

  “Way to make a guy feel welcome, darling.” I place a hand behind her head, kissing her forehead.

  Aspen wraps her arms around me, leaning her head against my chest. “Dad wasn’t crazy about military men. He never liked Michael, complained about his career, his intentions, his absence. I could do better, you know?”

  She turns her head slightly upwards, her eyes meeting mine. “Yet, when Michael died, my father never left my side. He—”

  “Wait, who is Michael again?”

  “My fiance, he died ten years ago.” The words thunder inside my chest. Yes, she talked about a Michael when she was wasted. How amazing he was but never specified the relationship between them. “He was a SEAL. Dad didn’t care for his career. He feared I’d be left a widow with tons of children.”

  I walk us to the bed, and sit us one next to the other, never letting her go. She closes her eyes, resting her head on the crook of my neck.

  “Did he die during deployment?” My heart breaks for the girl she once was. I attended several funerals where I witnessed the pain and agony of spouses and significant others. I’ve seen the sadness of children looking at the casket in front of them. Proud of their fathers, crying because they will never see them again. I was that proud boy watching the service while they honored my father.

  “No.” She releases a sad, heartwrenching laugh. “Car accident.”

  Aspen describes the day, the last phone call he made to her. She worried about school, the long list of things her mother had assigned for the upcoming wedding. “Mom had planned a big wedding. I was too busy with school to care about the big picture.”

  Mrs. Zimmerman cared that her friends were on the list, the colors of the wedding. Of course, the catering mattered to Aspen. Her mother’s family is a mix of Puerto Rican and Greek.

  “You never know what they’ll feed you next.” She smiles slightly. “Dad loved Mom’s culinary varitey, but it was a wedding. I prefered to keep it simple and classy.”

  Micheal drove to meet Aspen so they could fly together over the weekend to Boston. Her mom insisted on having the food and cake choices made as soon as possible. There was the dress fitting and the choice of invitations. “My parents never left my side. Dad took a sabatical from work and moved closer to me since I refused to go back home or leave school.”

  “Sounds like you and your father were close.” I sound obvious, but I have the need to know more. “How about you and your brother?”

  “Austin. He’s the reason I moved to Seattle. I wanted to be closer to him and far from the memories.”

  Austin, her brother, didn’t have a good relationship with his parents. As she lets me inside her world, I understand who Aspen is: why she shies away from feelings and how her obsession with endless hospital shifts started.

  “Mom and I don’t speak often.” There’s a long silence, she clears a tear with the back of her hand.

  “We are too different. She’s too loud. When I was younger, I thought she was angry at me all the time.”

  “Her whole family is that way.” She deflates. “Their voices are loud—happy, sad, angry, excited, even at church they sound the same. I cried easily with all the rucus they made.”

  “And you’re this cute, shy girl who couldn’t handle it.” I cup her face, kissing her nose and then her lips.

  “It helped me.” She chuckles. I arch an eyebrow. “The ER is a loud, fast paced atmosphere. If you can survive my family, you can survive any hospital. It’s a fact.”

  She lifts a hand, caressing my cheek and stretching her neck to kiss my chin. “Sorry, I am supposed to be here for you.”

  “You’re here for me, and I enjoy when you share yourself with me.” I comb her hair. “Besides, Mom says friendships are about trusting and helping each other.”

  I stare deep into her dark chocolate eyes with the hypnotic, golden flecks. They engulf my soul in their warmth. Cupping her cheek, I lean closer to her. A voice in my head shouts, “don’t do this, after it there’s no turning back.” My heart booms inside my chest hard with anticipation. Every molecule in my body shakes, ready to explode. This isn’t our first kiss. But when our lips meet sparks fly in every direction, igniting a fire around us, separating us from the rest of the world. Nothing matters, only the consuming kiss we share. Our lips move in perfect sync. Our tongues wrestle in a passionate duel to overtake the other. Her hands go around my neck. I pull her toward me plopping my body on the bed and rolling us over, so we are side by side. The heat running through my body builds, and I want more.

  I want her by my side.

  I want her lips, her body.

  I want her soul.

  Most of all, I want to give her my heart.

  A warm sensation runs through my body. A feeling, that same warning voice that everything has changed. The magnetic pull is replaced by a link. I kiss her deeper fusing the link with our souls. I want to tear her clothes off and trace her olive skin with my tongue. I want to spend hours learning everything about her: what makes her come, how fast she likes it. Savor her while discovering every inch of that perfect body.

  Want is a selfish verb. Usually I would strip the woman I’m with down to her underwear and fuck her senseless until we’ve had enough, not with her. This thing betwee
n Aspen and me is different. I have no name for it, but it’s much more complex than anything I’ve experienced. Much different than the girl I dated in high school. Aspen knows more about relationships. I’ll try to follow her lead. Listening to her talking about Michael constricts my heart. She has lost so much. No wonder she tries to stay away from emotional attachments. If making out for the next thirty years is the only thing we do, I’ll oblige. While trying my hardest to control myself, I promise to try to tear down all her walls and make a home inside her heart.

  My phone rings, Bradley’s tone. I ignore it. Aspen stops us. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers not moving from my hold. Her eyes reflecting the same lust and need I have. “Friends, we’re just friends.”

  I stare at her mute. She can’t possibly think we can be friends. Our friendship started when I spotted you in your backyard and ended when I heard your melodic voice. She’s a powerful magnet, and I gravitate toward her constantly. Those fucking walls, she’s going rebuild them. Don’t let her.

  “We—” Fuck, Bradley rings twice, hanging up twice and ringing again. There’s an emergency.

  Cursing under my breath, I fight the need to have Aspen in my arms and release her pulling my phone out of my pocket.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you tonight,” he says.

  “I’m in San Jose,” I remind him.

  “Yes, and I apologize for calling, but I need you.” My eyes roam around the bedroom, focusing on the fuck me heels next to the purple luggage. Shit, we planned on going out for dinner. I’m not better than her ex. We can do it later. I’ll return early in the morning, and we can have… “Tell me what you need for me to make this happen, Hawk. It’s going to be Kowalski, Tiago, Harrison, you and me.”

  He never assembles his A team, unless… “Is it a fast job?”

  “I’m afraid not, this might take a couple of days.” He covers the phone, I can’t make out the mumbling behind it. “Tiago says he’ll owe you his first born. I’ll brief you when you’re here.”

  “Give me a second.”

  “It’s work…” I don’t want to sound like an ass, but leaving Aspen here should be her choice. “Do you want to stay until I’m back?”

  “Another tattoo emergency?” I nod. She stares at me for a few beats. Her gaze lowers for a second, and once she meets mine, something is different. Her need is replaced with indiference. The cold blast of her look strikes me in the chest. “Home, if you don’t mind. I’d rather head back today.”

  “Bradley, call me when you have our ride ready.” I tap the red button, my eyes never leaving hers. What the fuck happened? I lost her.

  Bradley: Be at the airport in 30 minutes.

  “We’re not friends, Aspen. Friends don’t kiss the way we just did.” I control my anger. Yes, I’m fucking angry with her. How can she let me kiss her the way she did and then metaphorically punch me in the chest? I lean in closer, her eyes widen as her lips part slightly. My willpower is slipping away. Don’t do anything stupid.

  Nibbling on her lower lip, I slide my tongue between her plum, heart shaped lips. Her hands go around my neck, giving herself to the moment. I kiss her urgently, desperate for more. Everything. “We don’t have a title, yet.” I fist her hair. My other hand pulls her closer to me. I let out a throaty moan as I dart my tongue inside her mouth and play with hers, my dick hardens. What I wouldn’t give to be inside her. “There’s something growing between us. Please, don’t disregard it, Aspen.”

  “You’re not a tattoo artist, Anderson,” she states the obvious. “You leave often, and put your life at risk. I don’t—”

  “Hold that thought.” I move her hair aside, kissing the back of her ear. “We can disscuss my line of work later. Just do me a favor, sweet woman. Open yourself up to the possibilities.”

  Later, I’ll ask Bradley to pull me off the roster, or to schedule me only when necessary. Mom said to live my life the way I want. At least that’s how I understood it. For the next weeks and months, I choose to be near my mother. I choose to spend more time with Aspen. My family matters more than anything else in the world.

  16

  Aspen

  My heart has been jackhammering against my chest for the past few hours because of that kiss. The make-out session with Anderson. It wasn’t just hands impatiently exploring, tongues wrestling with one another. It wasn’t just the meeting of body parts. It was a religious experience. What do I do after coming back from San Jose? I sit crossed-legged on top of Brynn’s bed, holding my tablet with one hand and a cup of tea with the other. She’s updating her blog. I’m pretending to read a medical journal while enjoying her gibberish rant. She’s funny when she responds to the crazy people who follow her. Who follows a medical blog? For the first time in three years, I’ve decided to look at my father’s will and what’s left to do. Mostly, it’s his last wishes and the assets Mom never claimed. Anything to keep my mind occupied and away from Anderson’s mission and the lust growing inside me—because it’s only lust. Isn’t it?

  “I wonder what Mom did with Dad’s things.”

  “Who knows? My mother usually throws everything out on the street,” she replies, not paying much attention to me. “Every divorce or breakup is followed by a temper tantrum and some new-found lifestyle.”

  “You make it sound like she’s done it too many times.”

  “Two divorces and so many boyfriends. Did I tell you she’s dating a woman now?” Brynn’s mother is incapable of holding on to a relationship for long or being alone. “I think she’s doing it to show Dad that she can be gay too.”

  I move my gaze to her nightstand, where the picture of her father and his partner stands. “Is it a phase, like her vegan one?”

  “Who knows?” She shrugs. “There was that time when she became a Zumba instructor. It lasted until she broke up with whoever she’d found there. I’ll never forget when she decided to live in a nudist community.”

  “That was less than a year ago,” I recall.

  “Hmm, yeah, you’re right. She quit when that boyfriend brought two new women to their home.” Her lips twitch from side to side. “I loved when she moved to California for a few months—no phone or way to communicate. I think she’s still in love with Dad.”

  “Love is easy, loving the wrong person is what complicates it.” This is mostly my experience watching others and their relationships. Michael and I were perfect for each other.

  She sighs, nodding in agreement. “I wish they had handled their relationship different. Dad made a mistake, that didn’t mean that he should’ve married her.”

  “He was confused about his sexuality, and your mother volunteered to…what was she expecting?” I’ve heard the story from her father’s standpoint, never heard it from hers. Maybe she was in love with him way before they slept together. “The guy wanted the best for his daughter.”

  She huffs. “Well, you don’t marry because you knocked up the woman. And if you do, you divorce right after you realize that you’re in love with someone else. Why live with my mother for seven painful years? Then he hid who he was and pretended Wes was his best friend and roommate for another eleven.”

  “How are they?”

  “Okay. Happy. They bought another goat and adopted a third dog.” She shakes her head and taps the monitor of her computer. “Speaking of parents…”

  “I don’t want to talk about my mother.”

  “I was going to ask about Sophia.” Brynn types as if someone is chasing her. “As I said earlier, your mom just left the voicemail. Call whenever you have time.”

  “It’s not my birthday or Christmas,” I protest, closing my eyes. Why would she call? Do I want to know? “Sophia’s prognosis was devastating. She feels strong enough to go on a trip with her sister, though.”

  Brynn nods. “She’s the kind of woman who doesn’t want to leave the party until it’s over.”

  “Anderson doesn’t like the trip idea, but there’s nothing he can do. He respects hi
s mother’s wishes.”

  “Are you going to share what’s going on between the two of you?” Her eyes don’t waver away from the monitor. “Look, unlike Scarlett, I don’t pry. I prefer to wait until you’re ready. But honestly, you’re scaring the fuck out of me.”

  “How so?” I play dumb because I’m scaring the fuck out of myself. Why am I reacting to another man? Anderson scares me. He pushed my walls, broke the steel barrier protecting my heart and is climbing into it slowly.

  “You’re back to drinking more than your fair share. Your mood swings are off the charts, and you’re not taking your medication.” She continues her task as she talks. “You know that I hate to sound like the responsible adult. But I will if you need me to, just say the word. Have you considered going back to your therapist?”

  Brynn is right. I understand my triggers. I know how to reduce them but haven’t done anything to help myself. However, I haven’t had as many episodes as I used to have when I’m not medicated.

  “We kissed.” I let out those words with one weak breath.

  The sound of her hand slamming her mechanical keyboard makes me jump. Her eyes are now on me. “You just broke up with Heath, and then went with Anderson on a trip and kissed—any sex involved?”

  My breath catches as I recall the kisses, the ache between my legs and my soul begging for more. Those weren’t ordinary kisses. They were mind blowing, better than ice cream with M&M’s. The best I’ve ever had. Which scares the fuck out of me. The best I’ve ever had is supposed to be Michael. Mike, the sweet boy who promised to love me forever. A man I love beyond realms, and who I hope to see again someday. I can’t possibly like Anderson’s hands or enjoy his lips, let alone let him occupy a space in my heart that’s designated for Mike.

  “I hate that I like being around him, he makes me…feel.”