As Long As We Got Love

by Tina Martin

  “Yes, Tyson. I know,” she said in heated whispers, lifting her head from the pillow to lock lips with him while at the same time opening her legs wider to receive more of him. She wanted all of him – all he had to give. And give he did, moving slowly in a teasing way at first before increasing the tempo of his forward and backward strokes. All the while he was kissing her, multitasking his lovemaking and while they kissed, she made those drugging, sexy sounds that drove him wild, stimulating him to delve deeper and deeper into this sweet surrender.

  She shuttered beneath him holding on as tightly as she could and when she was finally able to get a grip on those thick shoulders of his, she screamed once, then twice. The third time, his name shrieked from her lips at the same time the last of those glorious sensations flowed through her body. Tyson quickly covered her mouth with his, still stroking her into oblivion going faster now until he bucked, threw his head back and allowed the force of lovemaking to ram through his powerful body. Seemed every joint had locked up and wouldn’t relax until his body released every drop of love he had to give – and by all means, he was a generous giver.

  And he gave.

  And gave…

  And gave some more until his body completely drained into her with a pressurized force that had him squeezing his eyes tight, lowering his head to the pillow beneath her head and releasing a series of loud grunts and groans before he collapsed the weight of his body on top of her. And she squeezed his backside, still panting but feeling a necessary urge to milk him for everything he had. And she did, feeling her own pleasure come again, her body shuddering all over again.

  Moments later, when the ringing in his ears had stopped and he realized he was still on earth, Tyson lifted his weight off of her and laid next to her. Face-to-face they were for a moment, neither not saying a word. Words were replaced by a series of pants and moans from the aftershock of it all.

  He smiled.

  She smiled back, inching closer to him, so close that their lips almost touched.

  “You’re so good to me,” he told her, and he meant that in every way imaginable.

  “You’re good to me, too, Tyson Alexander,” she responded. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. “Mmm,” she hummed. “So good.”

  “You keep talking like that, neither of us will make it to work tomorrow.” He pulled her close to him, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle. He left a kiss on her temple. “Hey, I talked to Padma this morning. She reminded me of the family reunion this Saturday.”

  “It’s already that time?”

  “Yeah, it came around fast,” he said as he twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger.

  “So is everyone going to be there?”

  “Yes. Everyone, including Dilvan.”

  Gabrielle sighed. Dilvan didn’t bother her the way he used to but still, she didn’t like being near Tyson’s cousin. “Will your parents be there, too?” she asked. Tyson’s parents, Rena and John Alexander lived in Virginia.

  “They will. Padma confirmed their visit before I could.”

  “That’ll be nice. They haven’t seen the kids in a while.”

  “And you know how my mother gets baby fever.”

  “Poor Amryn. Between your mother and my sisters, my baby’s cheeks are going to be all worn out.” Gabrielle giggled and then via the baby monitor on the nightstand they heard the cries of baby Amryn. “Looks like I talked her up.” Gabrielle sat up and said, “Well, duty calls.”

  “No. You lie down. Relax. I got this.”

  “No, Tyson. You’ve done enough today. Let me.”

  “Mrs. Alexander?”

  She smiled because she knew what was coming next. “Yes?”

  “Get some sleep. I got this.” He got up off of the bed and stepped into a pair of loose jogging pants.

  “But she’s probably hungry, Tyson. I’m the one with the milk so you can go to bed.”

  “Nice try but you pumped earlier, remember? I can warm a bottle if she’s hungry, and since you’ll probably be asleep by the time I come back,” he said, walking to her side of the bed, “Sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you, Tyson.”

  He took a quick goodnight kiss from her lips, then left the room to tend to Amryn.

  Chapter 2

  -*- Dilvan and Eden -*-

  Dilvan sat on the couch holding his head trying to keep the thoughts still so he could focus. He didn’t have breakfast – didn’t want breakfast – he’d skipped massage therapy and sitting on the sofa in his boxers, he didn’t know what to do next. The confluence of cluttered thoughts running through his mind had him scatterbrained and that wasn’t good now that he was experiencing the ‘extreme low’ of bipolar depression. Admittedly, he’d been on and off of his medication for weeks for no other reason than his own stubbornness. Eden had tried to get him back on it – to reestablish the routine that made her husband normal – but he wasn’t trying to hear her. Being off of his medication not only made him jovial and full of life when he was experiencing ‘extreme highs’, but the lows made him mean-spirited, irritable and highly unreasonable. When he was this way, he didn’t want to be bothered – not by Eden or anyone else. He wanted to be left alone to waddle in self-pity.

  Eden stepped into the living room and stood there, staring at her troubled husband, not knowing what to do to help him. She knew what was wrong. She’d done enough research on bipolar disorder to become a specialist on the topic. Like now, he was down emotionally and probably wanted to be left alone but just a few days ago, when he was having a mania episode, he invited her to hang out with him, his manager and a handful of other models – men and women – at a mixer at a bar in Manteo. Dilvan was the life and soul of the party. He dominated every conversation. He was happy and engaging, buying rounds of drinks and spending excessive amounts of money on liquor. He was so excited, he hadn’t noticed Eden was sipping on club soda the entire night. That was then. Today, he was a totally different man with an extremely different demeanor – the reality of living and loving someone with bipolar disorder.

  She sighed and shook her head. She’d done everything in her power to help Dilvan. What was he doing to help himself?

  “Dilvan, I was just about to cook some breakfast,” she said in an upbeat, perky tone. “Any special requests?”

  “I don’t want anything,” he said snippily. He wasn’t hungry, but he sure bit her head off…

  “Maybe if you eat—”

  “I said, I do not want anything,” he repeated with a slight edge to his voice. He scrubbed his hands over his face.

  Eden drew in a breath and took a few cautious steps closer to him. Her hands ached to touch him. Console him. Her troubled husband. She knew his background before she married him but doggone-it, she loved the man and had done everything she could think of to help him. But if a person didn’t want to help their self, then really, what more could an outsider do even if the outsider was your own spouse? Was she supposed to hit him over the head, pry his mouth open and toss the pills inside? Strap him down to the bed and force a relaxing massage on him?

  She sat next to him on the couch and made more observations about her hubby. He was clearly a very different person when he was off his medication. He’d allowed his silky, black hair to grow out longer than she’d ever seen it – almost enough for a small ponytail – and then he hadn’t shaven in God knows how long, but she didn’t mind the look of hair growing out of his face. It made him look even sexier in a rugged kind of way. What she couldn’t get used to was his demeanor when he was off his meds. When they first met, he was difficult to get along with, but once she’d gotten to know him and his story, she’d chosen a path of optimism – to see the best in him. Everybody had some good deep down within them somewhere and he wasn’t the exception. But some people needed help in the form of medication in order to function due to chemical imbalances in their brain. That was the case with him. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. It was what it was.

&
nbsp; Eden reached to touch his arm. He snatched it away. “Dilvan—”

  “I don’t want anything to eat, Eden. Okay. I just want to sit here. Alone. Please.”

  “Dilvan, I am trying to help you and understand what you’re going through but you’re making it difficult for me to do that. I—”

  “You know what I’m going through,” he interrupted her to say, palming his head out of frustration.

  “Yes, I know what you’re going through which is why I don’t understand your unwillingness to take your medication. I know how important the medication is for your disorder.”

  “Screw the medication!” he yelled while looking at her for the first time since she stepped into the room.

  Eden could see a massive storm brewing in his gray, bloodshot eyes. He looked like he was on the verge of self-destruction. If he continued down this path, she was sure that’s exactly where he was headed. It’s not like he hadn’t been there before. In the years preceding his bipolar diagnosis, he’d gone straight-up berserk, treated his first wife Gabrielle like crap and after they divorced, he tried to get her back but failed, then had a mental breakdown. Shortly thereafter, he’d attempted suicide which landed him in a psychiatric hospital.

  Just by looking at him, you couldn’t tell he had mental problems. He was a model by profession – he certainly had the gorgeous face and a perfectly toned body for it. But the man he was on the inside was another story. A different man. A man Eden knew but didn’t fully understand because, at the moment, he was being standoffish. Then later, like say around dinnertime, he’d flip – do a total three-sixty – and become the picture perfect husband, in the kitchen trying to be all kissy-kissy, asking her if she needed help with dinner and all. She loved herself some Dilvan Alexander, but she couldn’t handle the constant flip-flopping. She was tired of feeling like she was married to two different people when, if he took his medicine consistently, she would have one loving, handsome, charming husband.

  That was a big if.

  Irritated, she stood up and told him, “I guess I’ll wait until you’re normal again so I can actually have a conversation with you.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” he said impassively.

  Eden didn’t take the bait or engage him any further. Instead, she continued on to the kitchen where she took a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator, set it on the table then dropped her head in her hands as she leaned against the island. What was she going to do? She’d been worried about Dilvan for the last few months that he’d been flaking out on his medicine, but he wasn’t her only concern. She had other pressing matters to deal with. A big concern. A baby.

  At four months pregnant, she had yet to tell Dilvan they had a bundle of joy on the way for fear he wouldn’t see anything joyous about it. He had mentioned to her before how he didn’t want to have children, fearing he’d pass his illness along to his child, but here she was pregnant, again, and stressed out. Her first pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage at seven weeks gestation and there wasn’t necessarily talk of having another baby after that. Most times, people didn’t talk about making babies. They just made them and figured out the rest later. And being that she was sixteen weeks along, she was sure this baby would make it (thank God) but the stress couldn’t be good for her pregnancy.

  Eden tried to let Dilvan’s behavior roll off of her back like she’d done for days now – no, weeks actually – but when the roll-off-the-back method wasn’t quite working and the stress of dealing with him was starting to affect her health and the health of her unborn child, she knew she had to do something soon. As it was, she had a business to run and that was challenging in itself.

  While she was living in Belize, she operated a home cleaning service – specifically focusing on tidying up vacation homes – and since moving from Belize to the Outer Banks after she and Dilvan had married, she’d set up shop there running her business remotely and even taking on new clients in Nags Head and many of the other smaller coastal cities. In the mornings before she headed to the office, she and Dilvan would have breakfast together. It was their ‘thing’ – especially since their time together was limited with their hectic work schedules – but this morning he wasn’t having it. Still, she made herself a bowl of oatmeal, sprinkled in some blueberries and sat at the table alone.

  She’d eat a spoonful then stir in a daze.

  Eat. Stir.

  Eat, then stir…

  What a painful thing it was to love someone so much yet feel so distant from them. While she loved Dilvan and would do anything to help him, how long was she supposed to hold on to a person who refused help? She had feelings too. Her hormones were all over the place carrying the man’s child. Some days she was sick. Other days, like today, she felt fine but with the strain of dealing with Dilvan’s mood swings, her good days weren’t so good anymore.

  After finishing the oatmeal, she set her bowl in the sink and on her way out of the door, she noticed Dilvan had fallen asleep on the couch. He was completely out with his mouth cracked open while he snored softly. Eden leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered, “I love you,” then she continued on to the door.

  As soon as she cranked up the car, Charity was calling.

  “Good morning, Charity.”

  “Have you told him about the baby yet?”

  “Getting straight to the point this morning, huh?”

  “Yep. So, did you tell him?”

  “No, Charity. I haven’t,” she said turning onto the highway. “I can’t tell him. Not now, anyway.”

  “Eden—”

  “I can’t, Charity. Dilvan’s in no shape to hear the news of my pregnancy.”

  “What do you mean your pregnancy? You didn’t make this baby by yourself.”

  “Of course I didn’t make this baby by myself. Who makes a baby by themselves, Charity?”

  “You get what I’m trying to say.”

  “Yes, but listen to what I’m saying. I’m not sure he’s going to take it very well. He’s always been afraid to have a child.”

  Charity blew a breath. “If you ain’t afraid to have sex, you shouldn’t be afraid to have a child.”

  “But he does have legitimate concerns.”

  “There you go making excuses for him again.”

  “It’s not an excuse—look, Dilvan has always been paranoid that any child we had would be born with bipolar disorder. He said bipolar is miserable for him and he couldn’t imagine passing it on to a child.”

  “So, he didn’t want to have children?”

  “He does and he doesn’t. It’s the story of everything when it comes to Dilvan. One day he wants to model the next day he’s telling his agent to kick rocks. He helps Padma one day at the restaurant, the next he thinks she’s a spawn of Satan.”

  Charity chuckled. “Sorry, it’s not funny but anybody who doesn’t like Padma Alexander has some serious issues. I don’t care if he is her son. Padma is a beautiful woman and has the kindest heart.”

  “I know, and he knows that, too. He just has issues with her. Sometimes.”

  “When he’s not taking his medicine, right?”

  “Right.” Eden sighed. “I don’t know what to do sometimes, sis. And I’m not telling you this for you to solve it for me. I just need to vent and you’re the only person I can talk to.”

  “I won’t say anything, but you do need to tell Dilvan as soon as possible about the baby. You can’t have all of this on you. You have a little one to think about.”

  “Yeah,” she said thinking fondly of her child wondering if she or he would have their father’s gray eyes and light complexion.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I’m almost at work so I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, later.” Eden parked outside of her office then took a breather before going inside. It would be difficult to focus on work when she had so much on her mind. Charity was insisting that she tell Dilvan about the baby but she was hesitant. What if Dilvan really didn�
��t want their baby?

  Chapter 3

  -*- Heshan and Charity -*-

  As the administrator of Summer Kids Learning Camp, Charity worked around the clock to ensure the school’s operation. She even rolled out an after-school program from 3:00 to 7:00 p.m. with a few teachers and volunteers working Monday through Friday. She was alone in her office ordering supplies when she heard her husband’s voice echo in the hallway, “Where you at Goldie?” like he didn’t know where her office was located.

  She was already smiling when she looked up from her paperwork and saw him peeping around the door. “Hey.” She lowered her pen to the desktop and gave Heshan her full attention. When she kissed him goodbye this morning, she had no idea her curly-haired, handsome husband would make a surprise visit to the school today. And he had a hand behind his back. She narrowed her eyes. “Shan, what are you up to?”

  “Why do I have to be up to something? I can’t pop in to see my beautiful wife?”

  She smiled. Even though he was born and raised in the states, he still had a hint of an Indian accent, probably from growing up hearing his mother’s accent. Whatever the case, she loved it. It gave him character. And to think when they’d first met, she couldn’t stand his guts. Now, she didn’t know what she’d do without him. “I thought you were working at the food house today.”

  “I am. I was on the way there when I figured I’d stop by to see you for a minute.”

  Heshan took a few more steps into her office, stood beside her desk and handed her a healthy bouquet of thick, rich-red roses.

  A smile lit up her face. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Heshan.” She stood up to wrap her arms around his neck then touched her lips to his giving him a small kiss before embracing him again. “So, what’s the real reason you came by here?” she asked, smelling the roses. “Ah, these smell so good.”

  “I told you...just stopping by, beautiful. What are you up to today?”