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Copyright © 2018 by Melissa Bender
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This book is a work of FICTION. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Cover image from Shutterstock com.
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Forgiving You
By: Melissa Bender
ISBN: 978-1-68030-913-3
©MelissaBender2018
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Bailey. Mason. Everly.
Your mind will always believe what you tell it.
Remember, you are so loved.
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Prologue
“Jesus . . .”
“Oh god . . .”
“. . . fuck me.”
Unfortunately, we weren’t in the throes of lovemaking; we were both wide awake, annoyed, and cursing at the fact it wasn’t even 6 a.m. and the guy in the apartment beside ours was using what sounded like a sledgehammer and bashing it loudly into a wall.
“Maybe he’s having wild, crazy sex, and it’s the headboard banging?” I suggested, trying to calm my husband who was growing more annoyed each second.
Chris looked over—clearly unimpressed—with his brows scrunched together, eyes giving me the ‘you’re kidding’ look. “Maybe he’s doing renovations like last weekend without proper approval, and I should draft up a suit to toss at the prick.”
Always the lawyer, even when home. “Oh? Based on what grounds?”
“For waking me the fuck up.”
I had to laugh as I rolled half asleep to face him. He really could be such a grump for a morning person. “How will you cope when we have a newborn at home? Crying all hours of the night . . . keeping you awake? God forbid you’d miss some beauty sleep.” I toyed with the idea of our future family.
He raised a brow at me. “Babies?”
We hadn’t talked much about babies since we got married two months ago, but we wanted them. Chris, however, looked surprised as he raised a dark brow mid-yawn, glancing over at me. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re pregnant?”
I rolled my eyes. I think if I were pregnant, he’d have known about it by now. “Umm, not that I know of.”
“Do you want to be?”
A smile grew on my face as I shrugged, acting all shy and coy. The thought did excite me. “I mean, I love babies and would love to have one or four with you.”
His fingertips were warm as they stroked against my cheek. Leaning in closer, I could feel his warm breath hit against my skin as he spoke; his tone was soft, yet confident. “I think we should have one.”
“What? Now?” I laughed, immediately wrapping my legs around his waist as he moved in closer, finally settled between my legs, resting on top of me.
Naked and so warm, Chris engulfed me in a hard embrace. “No.” I could feel his smile grow against the crook of my neck as his growing erection pressed against my smooth, waxed mound, nudging around until he sunk inside with a slow thrust. “We’ll make a baby now.”
Pulling back with a slight surprise, I wasn’t sure if Chris was serious. My brows dipped slightly in confusion as I cupped his face. “Chris, do you really want to make a baby? Right now? What about our plan? Spending a year in newlywed bliss before moving to the suburbs for mum-and-dad life . . .” We had decided about that on our honeymoon.
“Char.” He smiled, gazing into my eyes in a way that made me quiver from the inside. “Fuck the plan. I want a family.”
Chapter One
“Let me help you with those?”
My hands were full as I slowly turned around, dipping both feathered brows in confusion and mostly to squint past the downpour of rain as I looked up at the man standing in front of me. “I’m sorry?”
“Let me help carry your bags to your car. I couldn’t forgive myself if you fell and broke your neck in this weather.” He grinned from what I could make out.
Unfortunately, I had chosen the worst time to walk to the store and grab a few groceries for dinner. Glancing around, I felt embarrassed for some reason. “Umm, I actually don’t have a car. It’s okay; I don’t live too far ahead anyway.”
His face crumpled, and he stared at me as if I had just grown another head.
That’s how I ended up sitting in his car, soaking wet and giving directions to my block, which was twenty minutes away in the traffic. Not looking bothered as he jumped out in his light grey joggers and a navy jumper, he opened the back door and took out my three bags while I fumbled around in my leather bag, searching in a hurry for the keys to the apartment I lived in. Just as I pulled them free, a loud clap of thunder startled me, and I dropped them down in a puddle, cursing at myself on the inside.
“Wasn’t it meant to rain next week?” I pointed out.
“It was forecasted for this evening; looks as if it came early.” He shouted over another rumble of thunder. “Let’s make a run for it before the rain gets worse.”
The rain didn’t let up, and by the time we both made it to the apartment, we were soaking wet. I looked over at the man standing in my kitchen with droplets of water coming from his j
et-black hair down his face as he sat my bags on the counter. He looked like he had taken a shower fully dressed. I took a breath, realising I didn’t know who this man was, and suddenly, stranger danger was singing into my brain.
“I’m Charlotte,” I said. “Just figured you should know my name.”
“Chris.” He managed a smile and brushed a hand through his hair. “I should head off anyway.”
I looked towards the window; flashes of lightning lit up the sky as the rain grew louder. “No, you can’t drive in this. It’s dangerous.”
He smirked. “I’m a big boy. I think I can manage.”
“Please. Stay for dinner.” I insisted. “I will get you a change of clothes—my way of saying thank you for the drive home.” I couldn’t help myself from saying as I was already walking to the spare bedroom where my brother sometimes stayed to source the closet for a change of dry clothing.
He was in the bathroom, changing, when I heard him call out, noting the amusement in his voice. “Should I be worried about these clothes? I mean, your boyfriend won’t come home and murder me for being in them, will he?”
I had to laugh, popping my head around the door and immediately blushing as I caught sight of the toned torso and strong muscled arms as he had his arms raised up above his head, pulling down the red t-shirt. Christ. What I would do to run my hands all over . . . and then I realised he was looking straight at me.
My cheeks flamed red as my gaze dropped to the floor. “Umm, my brother. No boyfriend, so you’re safe from that.” I smiled, walking back to the kitchen.
***
Taking a swig of his beer, Chris began to tell me more about himself while I started preparing dinner—an easy pasta which I regularly made. He was a lawyer—well, a partner in a law firm. It turns out, it was the same law firm that had contacted me about doing their new business cards they were having next week, and I had been asked to take each employee photo. So, we would be seeing each other again soon.
The small talk was easy, and dinner was the same. Nothing too awkward until the power went off, and I couldn’t see a thing. I
“Do you own a torch? Candles?” Chris asked, pulling open a cupboard to search around. “Anything?”
“Umm . . .” I had no clue. “I have a fireplace though.” I had to laugh; I really sucked in a crisis.
The living room lit up as we both sat opposite each other; the blazing fire keeping both of us warm. Looking around, I couldn’t help but laugh. “This looks kind of purposely romanced.” It was something out of the movies.
“True.” He agreed, his voice deep but still soft. “But it’s not romantic until I do this.”
I hadn’t caught on to what he meant until the last second when he was leaning in closer, cupping my cheek as he lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me ever so tenderly. It was almost perfect.
“Are you sure you’re not dating someone?” he asked, pulling away all too quickly.
With a roll of my eyes, I had to laugh. “No. Now get back over here and kiss me more.” I bit my lip, eagerly leaning in closer for another kiss, but this time, with more passion.
It was by far, the most memorable way to pass the storm.
***
Today was meant to be the happiest day of our lives. The day we had been waiting nine long, tiring months for; the one day I needed him the most, more than anyone in my life. I really needed him today.
Aside from the day we married, this was our next best day ever. Or, so I would have assumed.
I waited hopefully, anxiously.
For five days, I waited for a phone call or a visit. I waited for something to let me know everything was okay.
Instead, I was met with nothing.
He was meant to be the one next to me—my own husband who was meant to be holding my hand and helping me through this as I delivered our precious, absolutely breathtaking baby girl into the world. The baby we made with love and happiness, knowing that we were starting a family together.
However, he was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t there to cut our daughter’s umbilical cord or hold her. We didn’t get the birth photos of the moment we became a family of three. I had to do it all alone with the help of a wonderful midwife, as she offered words of encouragement when I wanted to give up. I cried because Chris was the one who was supposed to be by my side, doing it all like we had planned and talked so often about.
The last time I had heard from him was when he had kissed me goodbye at the breakfast table, and then he had leaned down and placed a kiss over my burgeoning stomach, telling our unborn child just how much she was loved, before he left for work.
The pains had become stronger when I called him almost immediately on the phone when my water broke. He sounded so excited and promised that he was on his way home to take me to the hospital. I could hear the elation in his voice as he told me that he couldn’t wait to greet our baby earlier than expected.
But when an hour passed, and nothing came except stronger contractions, I had to drive myself that half hour. I tried to ignore the pain as I cried, screaming for my dear life as I waddled up the steps to the emergency room. Ringing him constantly, only being sent to voicemail, I had assumed maybe Chris had been in a meeting or court, but that didn’t seem likely; he had promised to be there for me.
Even leaving a message with his secretary, who then rudely told me that Chris had taken a meeting with a client and couldn’t reschedule. I thought, perhaps, he would instead meet me at the hospital. My hopes faded to disappointment when I realised he wasn’t coming.
I didn’t call again after that.
I didn’t tell him that I had given birth. I didn’t tell him how much his daughter weighed, or even that she had trouble breathing after the emergency C-section, which was due to the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck.
Anger bubbled inside me as I couldn’t believe how someone could do this to the person they loved the most. However, as angry as I was, I was in love all over again, with a small human being who needed me the most in her life.
I would show my daughter just how loved she was in this world.
My parents were both furious when I mentioned Chris not being around for the birth. Mum wanted to strangle him, unable to comprehend just how a man leaves his wife the day she’s in labour. I would love to know the answer to that. My parents had been abroad, travelling in their caravan and weren’t supposed to come home until next month. They changed their plans and came back home to be with me. I was grateful because I really needed them right now.
***
Chris and I had always been happy, having a typical whirlwind romance—dating five short months before becoming engaged, then marrying six months later. Three months after we said I do, I became pregnant. We may not have been together for long, but I had been blissfully happy and so in love. He was older—thirty-one—when we began to date. I assumed he would be serious, mature, and mindful of what he wanted in life. That’s how he came across when we spoke about settling down. I, a young twenty-four-year-old, was foolishly unaware just how much this man could break me. I didn’t know a thing about love, but Chris showed me what it could be, and for that, I adored him even more.
His family loved me, and I loved them the same. We got along so well, and they were thrilled about having their first grandchild. We never found out the sex of the baby. I didn’t want to know, and neither did Chris; he wanted to be surprised. It turns out I was the one being surprised.
I had wondered if Chris had been seeing someone else or having an affair with that leggy brunette from his office who always eyed him up and down and scowled at me whenever I visited him at work. The glares got worse as I became pregnant and my stomach started growing rapidly. I even had asked him once if anything was going on between the two of them. I was having a bad day, feeling ugly, and he came home later than usual. He insisted he wasn’t, then took me out for the weekend to make up for working so much. I still felt that maybe he was. The leggy brunette was his age and was always calli
ng him, even on his days off.
I had tried to rack my brains as to where I went wrong. How did I not see the signs when everything was perfect in my eyes? We still made love quite often; he was always up for that, and I would make sure he was happy in the bedroom. We had even slept together the morning before he left for work. He had woken up in a rather playful mood, so I don’t know how he had changed from being so happy to not wanting to be with his family in a matter of hours. It just didn’t make sense to me.
I was even more furious when I had driven myself home from the hospital. The doctor told me I wasn’t allowed to drive, but I had no one to pick me up and take me home. Well, I could have called Adam (my brother), but like my parents, he was away for work purposes, and the humiliation of having to relive why I was alone and asking for help was unbearable.
My heart broke as I held the capsule. My darling girl was soundly sleeping as I rode the lift to our home in constant pain as I struggled to even walk with the numbness and the stinging in my lower stomach; it was all stitched up. But, hey, I was on some awesome painkillers. There was no denying that I was hoping Chris was here with one hell of an explanation, but instead, all of his things were gone, and a letter addressed to myself was placed on the table.
Charlotte,
I’d appreciate if you signed these. I will pick them up Friday afternoon. Don’t make this harder than it must be; everything I believed was wrong. I don’t know what made you do it, but I can’t even stand to be near you at this moment. Leave the papers at the front desk.
Christopher
I looked at the paper behind the note and let out a scoff. Chris must be joking me; he wants to get a divorce. I scanned over everything and what he was offering me. He wanted to settle quickly: two million dollars a year, the penthouse, and the car.
Forgiving You Page 1