by Eden O'Neill
“It seems you have.” Flipping the folder closed, Dad passed it off to the guard nearest him. They returned the documents to me. Dad sat back. “It seems you’ve done what you wanted.”
“I have.”
“And you’re here because?”
“I wanted you to know.” Point blank. I didn’t owe him anything, but this wasn’t about him. I wouldn’t tiptoe around and follow my passions. I’d preach them from the rafters. He’d know who I was. He’d know how I ended up, how I fared and thrived despite him and his influence. I’d become my own man, and I’d done it without him.
I was done here, nothing else I needed to say. I handed the documents off to the guard. Dad could keep them, the copies a memento of my short time here.
Buttoning my jacket, I stood. “See you in a few years.”
Because I would eventually. He hadn’t murdered anyone so his sentence was lighter, and he would be out of here eventually. I’d be ready when he did, and when he surfaced, it would be in his best interest to stay away.
The threat of that on my lips, my eyes narrowed. “Though, it’d behoove you to maybe reconsider that, seeing me?” I nodded. “Same goes for Mom. I know she’s been coming to see you.” I shook my head. “How about you not do that anymore.”
Nothing more to say about that, I turned my back to him. I started to walk away before I heard him call my name.
“I’m proud of you, son,” followed, and I closed my eyes. His sigh was deep. “I’m real proud of you. Proud that you’re doing what you want to do. Proud that you’re standing up to me. Talking to me. That was all I ever wanted for you.”
I turned, angling a look. “And what would ever make you feel like I’d care about that?” I didn’t. There’d been a time where I might have, but not now.
There had been a time, way back when anything this man touched I thought turned to gold. Where I simply wanted to breath his air, be him, despite who he was and what he’d done to me. He’d raised me with a firm hand, sent me to goddamn boarding school at one point for defiance, but even through all that, I’d wanted his acceptance. Like I needed it.
It had taken me all these years and countless mistakes to realize I didn’t. I stood before him now a new person.
“I’m proud of that, too,” he said, and the nerve of him to actually allow his throat to jump. To feel something about this moment, about me. He drew fingers down his beard. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
Oh, we weren’t even going to go there. I tilted my head. “Don’t you dare. A mistake is messing up your taxes. Not what you did and whose lives you’ve ruined.”
He nodded. “I know. And back then, I blamed it on the protection of my family. Helping my brother. Protecting you and your mom.”
I laughed with no humor. “But now?”
He took a step forward, and the guards shifted, reaching for their batons. I lifted a hand, and they stopped. They answered to me here, not him.
My father saw that, his head shifting in their direction. He found me once again, the smile from before returning to his lips.
“It was selfishness,” he said. “My image. I wanted to protect the image of my family. Protect me. It had nothing to do with anything else.”
Shocked he was actually saying this, though I didn’t let him see that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Dad took another step forward, and the guards watched me. I did nothing. He’d be bold to do something and he wouldn’t here. Dad had no power in this situation with me.
“I held that knuckle-white, my image. My status.” He shrugged. “Only to lose it. Only to give it to you.”
“Funny what happens when you fuck up,” I said. “And if we’re done…”
“Almost.” The guards allowed him to go back to his desk, and when he returned, he had a binder. He gave it to the guards, who gave it to me. “I’ve tracked all your accomplishments. All your wins over the years during my time here.” He pocketed his hands. “I really am proud of you, and I just wanted you to know it’s what’s keeping me moving forward. To know that you’re okay out there. You’re very inspiring, son.”
I scanned the pages, news articles mostly and internet pages. Awards I’d won, articles published at Brown. He even had a picture of me from the local paper back home, a ribbon cutting that I’d done recently.
They’d given my father resources all right to keep tabs on me, and once done, I gave the binder back to the guard.
“I’m glad to know you’ve been okay. That’s why I wanted you to come here and why I asked your mom to ask you. I wanted you to know I’ll always see you. I didn’t before, and I consider that one of my greatest mistakes,” he said. “I wronged you, son. Severely, and I know that now.”
“So, what now?”
“Nothing now.” He shook his head. “I’m in here. As I should be, but like you said, I won’t always be.” His head lowered. “I simply hope, one day, you’ll give me the opportunity to see you again. And if not physically, in person in whatever way you can. I’d love to see where life takes you the rest of the way. Where you and, one day, your own family takes you.”
My throat thickened, but he wouldn’t see that either. I didn’t care about what he hoped for, and this man wouldn’t see my family. Not if I had something to do with it.
But I would have a family. It would take me some place, and that was what affected me. I could see that future as strongly as I felt it. I would have it.
I swallowed as I looked at him. “You probably won’t get what you want.”
His chin lifted, his expression as if my words didn’t affect him. “That’s the thing about hope, Ramses. Even if you don’t get what you want, it pushes you on.” He smiled. “It allows you to continue on with life. Live a good life even. I may be in here, but I’ll never lose hope. I’ll never stop trying.”
He retreated back to his desk, picking up his pen as if he’d said nothing. He was always one to get the last word.
I gestured toward the guard, and they led me out, a place I never planned to see again. I’d finished my business here.
It was time I started living a life beyond hope.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bri
My thumb caressed the ruby red petals, bright and vibrant with life. Two dozen roses and not in a vase but bundled in thick paper and secured with a bow. I signed off for them, then plucked the card from between the stems.
Sorry.
I closed my eyes, my chest visibly concaving if it could. He had no reason to be sorry for anything. I’d been the distant one.
I hugged the pretty paper to my chest, burying my face in the smell. It took me about five seconds to remember I wasn’t alone.
“Someone is either dating someone or has a secret admirer.” Evie pressed the Diet Coke to her lips, her smile wide. “And must think quite the world of you for such a lovely gift. They’re gorgeous, darling.”
My heart hurt again as I eyed the roses, smelling them once more. Evie and I’d been surprised to have our lunch date interrupted by a flower delivery girl. She’d brought the roses.
They were gorgeous, stunning and completely unnecessary.
Oh, Ramses…
I hadn’t done right by him lately. But then again, I definitely had a track record when it came to him.
I placed the roses on my desk, my sigh heavy. I rejoined my friend in the chairs reserved for my students. We ate lunch in here once or twice a week. Basically, whenever we could fit them in between our hectic schedules.
Crossing my legs, I popped a piece of apple in my mouth. “They are lovely.” I nodded. “And he does think the world of me.” He shouldn’t, but he did. I folded my arms. “It’s new.”
Of course, I still hadn’t told her. But not necessarily because Ramses and I were still waiting for graduation. I wasn’t sure if we were even heading anywhere anymore.
You’d made sure of that.
I sure had, avoiding and when we were together, tense. I’d been distant, a
nd he’d been letting me. My MO and his. He was going to let me pull the breaks but wouldn’t let me use him as an out. He shouldn’t. If things were going to end, I needed to end this.
I just didn’t want to.
A smile to Evie’s lips as she fingered a bloom. “I should have known you were seeing someone.” She sat back. “You’ve seemed happier lately, Brielle. Brighter.”
I had for a time. When Ramses and I had been in the thick of it. In the air of it. It’d been amazing, and I’d managed to botch it up.
I squeezed my arms. “Evie…”
I so wanted to tell her, tell her everything because she deserved to know. But the conversation moved on so quick, her talking about finals and everything. Her talking about our plans for the summer and things she’d heard.
“I hear you’re stepping back a bit to do research this summer.” She grinned. “To get an article published? That’s so great, Bri. What inspired you?”
That’d been Ramses, one hundred percent. In our recent distance, I got to truly get a good hard look at myself.
And I didn’t like the person I’d become.
I didn’t like that I shelled into myself, that I pushed people away. I wanted to love life again, to take chances like him. I’d never forget how he showed me his dream. That night we made love in his art gallery, he’d been completely vulnerable with me. He told me he was taking chances. Showed me that more than once. He showed that with me, even when I’d given him every reason not to do so. Ramses was letting himself live life.
He was letting himself love.
Feeling the magnitude of that, I studied the gift on my desk, and in my silence, Evie lifted her chin.
“I see,” she said, then squeezed my arm. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve this. With all you’ve experienced…” She shook her head. “You deserve it all.”
Words for the truth tugged at my lips again, but before I could voice them Evelyn got a call. She lifted her finger, saying one second and I waved her to take it.
Crossing her legs with a smile, she turned into her call, and to give her space, I fingered the roses again. My phone buzzed in my lap, too, but I got a text message.
Ramses: How long are you going to make me wait before mentioning my gift? I’m sweating bullets here *sweating emoji*
I couldn’t help it. I grinned and put so much power into it.
Me: I got it, but it wasn’t necessary.
He sent me a smile in response, and his next message pinged quickly.
Ramses: Where are you right now?
I eyed Evie, still on her call. Whoever it was on the line seriously made her smile and I did too.
Me: Actually, with your mom. In my office. Why?
Ramses: Can you make up an excuse to leave?
Me: I could. Why?
He merely shot a smile emoji my way, asking me to come outside to my car. I felt bad about ditching Evelyn, but it turned out she’d wanted to take her call privately anyway.
“New beginnings to us both,” she said, winking at me. She covered her phone. “Enjoy your day and your roses.”
She disappeared after that, and I wondered about her new beginnings. I hoped they were good. I hoped they were everything, and though I shouldn’t have hoped for my own, I did. I found them outside, his ankles crossed and leaning against my ride looking hotter than sin.
Ramses dressed for a spring run, shorts loose and displaying his powerful thighs, arms tight and hugged across his chest. His tee gave no room to bunch, butter smooth over his pecs and thick arms. Seeing me, he pushed off the tire. He never met me at school before but directed a hand to me like he had every day.
He brought me to him, until our hips touched, and he framed my face. He kissed me like it meant nothing.
When it meant everything.
When it felt like my world would end if he stopped, that my body would die without the taste. Soft, yet deliberate contact parted my lips, his finger curling beneath my chin when it ended too soon.
His boyish grin fluttered my insides, his hand cupping my cheek. “I was taking a chance you’d let me do that.”
My lips buzzing, I felt like I’d let him do it again. But, putting hands on my hips, he placed distance between us. He extended a reach, and off the top of my car, he had the most curious thing.
“Pizza?” I questioned. He flipped the lid and the same pie from the night we met stared back at me.
Oh my gosh.
He nodded. “Goes with the rest of my gift. That is, if you’re game?”
Since I was, I allowed him to tug me from the car. He opened the back and inside was a set of folded clothing. Like brand new, a bow around a box of tennis shoes and what appeared to be a pair of shorts, a tank top, and sports bra.
I’d question how he’d gotten these items into my car, but he did have the code. I’d sent him to my car multiple times to get things out of it when he stayed over on occasion.
“I figured pizza, then a hike,” he said, his grin stretching. “What do you say, Jersey girl? Escape with me for the day?”
His thumb brushed beneath my chin.
As if I could ever tell this guy no.
*
Ramses took us to a nature reserve for the day, picking an afternoon I just happened to have an early day. My afternoon classes wrapped up early on Wednesdays.
Of course, he knew that.
We ate his pizza on the way. Though already having had lunch with his mom, I allowed him to devour the majority of it. Not that he minded that.
It was crazy thinking back on that night. We first met in an evening that, at the time, felt like absolute chaos. But since then, he’d somehow come to balance me, and I’d been able to be that calm for him. We just worked together.
We just worked.
I changed in the car for the hike while he waited outside, stretching while I exchanged pumps for Nikes and my blouse and pantsuit for sports clothing. Everything fit perfectly, which told me Ramses either guessed or cheated by being observant about the sizes in my closet.
Something told me the latter.
That was just Ramses. That was always Ramses, and as I joined him deep in the hills of nature, the woods cool with the changes of spring, I didn’t want to be anywhere else. This, with him and being outside together, was pure harmony.
It was my heaven.
Ramses planned a break on an outlook, planned because he brought a blanket and waters. He was prepared. The view was scenic as we took that rest. The tops of trees were in a wide abyss before us, and he started to say something to me up here.
I never got to hear it.
I initiated that first kiss, his lips pinching between mine, and I had to say, I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to fight it so long.
Something told me those thoughts were shared.
Our clothes stripped like it was second nature, for this man to make love to me up here and always. For him to hold me, passion-filled, and kiss me like we’d never been at odds. Like I hadn’t been in my head again or attempted to push him away. Like we were destiny.
And this was it fulfilled.
Ramses entered me with a groan, his arm hooked around the back of my neck. His hips dropped deep. His taste was in the air, heat, sweat. He’d soaked through his shirt halfway through the hike, completely naked now as his hips rocked and he pulled my lips apart. Solid and beautiful male fucked me deep, my thighs hugging him close, my ankles knotted behind his muscular ass.
I rolled to mount him, naked, too, above abs stretched taut and tight, skin richly toasted with a honey tan. I worked my hips, and his head drilled back.
“Fuck,” he gritted as he tugged my hips down to meet his thrusts, my breasts bouncing, heavy and aching. He pinched a nipple, and I ground into the ecstasy, riding his cock in rapid rhythm. Believe it or not, I got on top to unravel him. But once again, he always turned the tides. He almost always had the upper hand when it came to us.
And somehow that was okay.
Somehow it was
all right to give in, to give myself over to this and just be with him. Beyond the pressures. Beyond the thoughts and the labels in my head and strip everything down. To just be this man’s girlfriend.
To just be his.
He came before I did, and my walls opened up, vibrating not far behind. I squeezed him inside me so tight I thought I’d die, and he kissed my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth while I came down from the high.
I held his head there, letting him caress me, care for me. I didn’t want it to end.
I’d never been a crier during sex. Not that I didn’t love sex. It’d just never made me emotional. But more than one time, he’d managed to make me do it. Today wasn’t that day, but I’d be lying to say I wasn’t compelled.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely in love with him.
“I love you.” Ramses breathed the words behind me, kissing my back, tasting my skin. He had his arms woven around me, his powerful body spooning me. His brow touched my head. “So much.”
Trembles shook my very limbs, and reaching back, I ran my fingers over his short hair. I nudged him to kiss me, turning in his arms.
“I love you,” he said again, to my face this time when he pulled my lips apart. “Fuck, how much I love you.”
I loved him, sighing. “I love you too.”
We stopped kissing for him to look at me, his fingers winding into my hair. He’d pulled it down, the pair of us so sweaty and messy. We both smelled like sex, all damp and heated skins.
His mouth dropped to mine. “You love me?”
Almost awe to his voice, but something told me it wasn’t because he didn’t know. I mean, he must have.
I folded a hand behind his neck. “I love you.”
He needed to hear it. He needed me to admit it. His nose brushed against mine before he captured my lips in slow, rhythmic kisses. He grinned. “Of course, you do.”
I laughed, the arrogant ass.
My arrogant ass.
He brought me beneath him, pressing his body on top of mine. I lost count how many more times we made love before he simply held me, the pair of us just lying in this moment. He drew lazy circles against the back of my neck, his soft breath in my ear.