When I Let You Go (Let Me Book 6)

by Lily Foster

  “I’ve never felt as happy as I do when I’m with you, Dylan. I feel safe and I feel so…precious. You make me feel like I’m precious to you. Am I?”

  “Don’t you know by now that you’re everything? I don’t even know who I am without you anymore.” I repeated it again because it felt so good to finally say what I’d been feeling for so long. “I love you.”

  Standing up, Veronica lifted the cotton shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, letting them both drop to the floor. She slid her sweats down, revealing all of her bare skin to me. She let me get a long look before she sat back down astride me, pushing her hips in close to mine. “So now I know you love me, Dylan, but I really need you to show me.”

  Tom clapped me on the back, so hard I nearly choked on an ice cube. “You look happy.”

  “Does that bother you for some reason?” I asked as I wiped the droplets off my lapel.

  “Jeez, I thought love would make you a little less cantankerous. And of course I’m happy for your cranky ass.”

  I looked across the room at Veronica, standing next to Terrence and his new babe, a girl from high school he’d reconnected with over Thanksgiving weekend. I was happy, but the sight of her with people closer to her own age still sometimes ate at me.

  “She’s it for me,” I said with resignation. Meaning that if she did wake up and decide to dump my ass someday, I no longer believed I’d be capable of recovering from it.

  Mr. and Mrs. Farrell each held one of Caleb and Rene’s new twins, making their way around the party, saying their goodbyes and wishing everyone Happy New Year a few hours before the ball actually dropped. Mr. Farrell stopped and was talking to Veronica. A lump formed in my throat as I watched her take the baby girl from him for a moment and nuzzle her close, breathing in that baby scent before cradling her to her own chest. Looking back to Tom, I said, “I’ve got it bad.”

  “That’s a good thing. And don’t question it so much, all right?” He must have been reading my damn mind.

  “Question what?” Darcy asked, fixing her man with a sexy smile and a little hip check.

  “Just telling Dylan not to let his pubes turn gray while he’s deciding whether or not to make an honest woman out of Veronica.”

  “You’re so gross!” Turning to me, Darcy raised her eyebrow and smiled. “She told me you two spent Christmas with Margot and Vince?”

  I nodded. It was surreal. Many things had changed about life in the Cole household, but Christmas was still a fabulous affair with lots of extended family and business strangers. That’s what Veronica called them instead of business associates—it was fitting.

  I caught her looking at me that night the same way I was looking at her now. She was standing with Colette but seemed as if she was just listening absently as my aunt prattled on. Her attention was fixed on Mason, who’d fallen asleep in my lap. He’d been a cranky little monster all throughout dinner, probably hopped up on opening up all those presents and eating too many cookies. Declan shot me a look when his son wailed and called out for me. I snickered, knowing the kid only wanted me above his father in that moment because I had a warm sip cup of chocolate milk in my hands, whereas Declan had the almond milk smoothie that Anna had most likely infused with kale, hemp seeds and who knows what else. Mason wriggled out of his father’s arms and came over to me, climbing into my lap as I sat in a big, comfy chair next to the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. The kid was conked out and drooling within five minutes. When our eyes met I wondered if she felt like I did. Was she as ready for this as I was?

  Watching her tonight, I wondered the same thing. Veronica would be twenty-three in February. I was turning thirty-eight this month. Her biological clock wasn’t ticking but my emotional clock suddenly was.

  I’m sure she thought I was struggling with the crazy side effects of old age when I roared out the words, “Move in with me,” later that night as I rocked into her, spilling myself into her body as her hands held tight to the rails of the bedframe above her.

  She didn’t say anything at first, our bodies stilling as we both came down from the high. I wasn’t tense, uneasy or feeling anything other than euphoria in that moment. First and foremost, I’d just had a spectacular orgasm, and secondly, I meant what I said and the request came straight from my heart. I leaned over her, undoing the necktie that bound her hands to the bedframe with one hand while cupping a breast with the other. I rubbed her wrists while I licked and kissed a trail up and across her shoulder to her neck, tasting the salt on her skin—always craved that.

  She lowered her hips down to the bed and I followed, then she rolled her body so that she was nestled into me. “You want that? Is it because you hate this little apartment or something?”

  “Definitely the or something part of that statement.” I nudged her with my cock, which was already getting hard again. “I want your clothes hanging in the closet next to mine. I want to cook dinner together when we get home, wake up next to you every morning.” I reached down and traced the semen on her inner thighs, circling it back up and pressing it into her opening. She was still on the pill so it was a meaningless act in a way, even though it meant something very real to me. “I need you.” She didn’t answer other than to breathe a contented sigh as she gently rocked her hips against the finger I now had lodged inside her. And my girl was definitely in for at least three glasses of champagne at this point, so I wasn’t really pressing for an answer. Pulling her in close, I kissed her temple. “Go to sleep, baby.”

  Veronica watched as I pulled on the same clothes I’d worn the night before. “Don’t you see?” she grumbled, “If I moved in with you I’d still be all alone tonight.”

  “If you came on this trip with me, like I asked you to, we could be wining and dining at all the best spots and living it up in my fancy hotel room.” When she went to protest with that cute frowny face, I raised my hand. “I know you have to work, I get it.” In truth, I liked that she didn’t drop everything for me, but damn, I missed her so much more now every time that I was away. “I’m just saying that if we lived together, I wouldn’t have to run back to my place right now to pack and get ready. We could lie around in my big giant bed for the next few hours.”

  I was leaving for Zurich this afternoon. One of my junior executives was coming along, my sole objective for this trip to insure that I was no longer needed to oversee operations there. It was a transfer of responsibilities. I had no need or desire to go there anymore.

  Looking over at the clock on her phone, she sighed before flopping back onto the bed. “The flowers aren’t going to arrange themselves.”

  “It’s probably going to be dead today, no?”

  “It’s New Year’s Day so the store is technically closed, but it’s Monday, silly. I’ve got a van load of white lily arrangements that have to go out first thing tomorrow morning to Cole Industries,” she teased, tossing a pillow my way.

  Crawling back on top of her, I pinned her hands over her head. “Maybe I’ll cancel the order.”

  She was play acting now, putting on that pout. “Please Mr. Cole, don’t cancel your order.” Letting her knees fall open to the sides and looking down at her own tight nipples, she asked, “What can I do to convince you to change your mind?”

  I shifted so that both of her hands were pinned by one of mine as I pushed my pants down just over my hips and drew my cock out. “You want to play it that way?” I teased as I tore right into her, her moans and the way she pressed her hips up to meet mine telling me she liked it hard like this. “Come live with me and I’ll fuck you like this every morning, baby…Morning, noon and night.”

  Her lids hooded, one side of her mouth ticking up in a smile, she gasped out her words between thrusts. “I’ll—Give—It—Some—Hmm, yeah—Serious—Oh fuck!—Thought.”

  My toe was tapping of its own accord. Dylan reached over to still my knee when the utensils on the table struck one another with a loud clatter for the second time.

  “She’s not coming
…Let’s just go.”

  “Whoa, girl, it’s only five after…Let’s give her a few minutes.”

  We sat quietly for the next five minutes, Dylan checking his phone and answering emails while I stared at the door. When I saw her I jumped to my feet nervously, but then sat again quickly when I saw that my mother was trailing behind her.

  Olivia approached, looking nervous, while my mother was looking at the ceiling, at the other tables, at her fingernails…basically anywhere other than me.

  “Olivia,” I breathed out, pulling her in for a hug. She hugged me back, giving me hope. Dylan stood up and pulled out a chair for Olivia and then for my mother before taking his seat next to me. I felt him give my knee another reassuring squeeze. “Mom,” I greeted her, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt. I wanted to say, Who asked you to come?

  “I don’t know if you remember me, Mrs. Petrov.” Dylan offered his outstretched hand. “I’m Dylan Cole.”

  She shook his hand once, the gesture stiff. “I know who you are.”

  “I have to admit,” Olivia spoke up, trying to ease the tension, “I don’t remember you very well.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he offered with a soft smile.

  My mother had the nerve to look indignant when she said, “I read in the paper that you’re getting married.”

  Olivia looked at Mother as if she was telepathically willing her to shut up, then looked back to me apologetically. “It was a gorgeous picture.”

  “Thank you, Olivia. The wedding is at the end of June.”

  Mother glared at Dylan. “When is the baby due?”

  No one knew about the pregnancy; I was only ten weeks along and not showing one bit. He smiled wide. And I knew this smile—it was his fuck you smile. “The baby is due in November. We can’t wait.”

  “A Church wedding?”

  “No,” I snapped. “If you’ve been following our lives in the papers, like you said, then you know Dylan is divorced.” Deciding to dig in, I added, “Henry, Alex’s partner, is an ordained minister. He’ll be performing the ceremony and the wedding is being held at their home.”

  My mother reached across the table to take my hand, but I pulled mine back out of reach. “Veronica, you know this is a bad way to start married life.” I stared at her, stunned. What in the fuckity-fuck do you know about starting off married life on the right foot? She looked down at her own hands. “I know we are not close, but you do know that I love you. When I found out Olivia was meeting you today, I insisted on coming.”

  “Too little, too late, Mother. I don’t need your approval or your counsel anymore. I needed you when I was seventeen.”

  “Your father—”

  I couldn’t let her finish. “My father is a pathetic excuse for a man.”

  “No! He’s always tried to protect you girls!”

  “From what? I needed protection from him!”

  Olivia, as per usual, looked like a deer in the headlights. She was staring out the window, and only when my gaze followed hers did I see what held her attention. Shaking my head and laughing, I said, “Look, you’re ride’s here.” My father was glaring at me from across the street. Total déjà vu, but I wasn’t seventeen anymore. I was no longer afraid of him. To my mother, I said, “You’d better run along…Don’t want to keep Daddy waiting.”

  My mother stood and gestured to Olivia. Her anxious expression told me she didn’t know he’d followed them here. As Olivia was turning to follow my mother, I grabbed her hand. “I asked you here to invite you to the wedding.” I handed her an invitation, which she folded up into a small square before stuffing it into her front pants pocket. She smiled at me with the word sorry written into her expression.

  I sat back down, exhausted. The real reason I’d asked Olivia here today was to see if she would be my Maid of Honor. Obviously that was not happening.

  “Guess I’m going with the original plan of junior bridesmaids only?”

  Dylan leaned over to kiss me and then rested his forehead against mine. “I’m your family now, baby, understand?”

  He’s serene and calm one moment, and in the next, Dylan is darting up out of his chair, knocking it over in the process. He is out the door, in the street now, towering over him and pushing at his chest. I’d heard him ranting out there like a lunatic too, but while my father’s insults still stung, ignoring him was second nature to me by now.

  “Go ahead…Call her a whore again, old man, and see what happens to you!” My father tried to push back, but he was no match for Dylan. One, two, three pushes until he had him pinned against his car. “Get in your car, start fucking driving, and don’t look back. Come near Veronica again and I’ll bury you.”

  James was standing across the street, a good twenty feet away, but I saw my father glance at him, awareness overtaking his features. He spit on the ground at Dylan’s feet before looking back up. “You deserve her.”

  I left a twenty on the table, shaking as I made my way towards the door. James ushered me into the car and Dylan was beside me in the back seat a moment later. His face was red and his fists were still clenched. “Never again, Veronica…I never want them near you again. They don’t deserve to call you their daughter.”

  “You’re all I’ve got, Dylan.” I rested my head against his chest as he slid his arm around my waist. “And I’m all right with that.”

  I laughed out loud examining the contents of the package. A very sheer lace bodysuit from Sarreri, Lollia bubble bath, body oil probably sourced from Cleopatra’s very own private collection, and a vibrator with a bedazzled handle. The card tucked inside read: Thinking of You.

  Every month I received a package. It might be chocolate covered fruit, exotic teas, luxurious soaps, or a selection of salsas to top my famous huevos rancheros. More often than not, it was lingerie. The packages would arrive while Dylan was away on business and the card always read the same. He never ever sent flowers.

  I shot out a text: You think I’m going to look hot in that bodysuit right now? He replied immediately: You’re barely showing. And yes, the bump looks totally hot. A few minutes later, he followed up with: No comment about the electronics? I answered: I don’t even know what to say about that! His parting text before he boarded the plane made me ache for my man to get home to me. What did I tell you when I proposed,V? For the rest of my life, I’m going to give my woman everything she needs.

  Taking myself in as I looked in the mirror, I’ll admit, I did look pretty good. I laughed when I noticed that Dylan purchased my pre-preggo size. I think he appreciated the way my slightly fuller butt and hips stretched the fabric, not to mention the way my breasts now pushed up and over the cups. Turning profile, I saw that at five months along, I had a bump, but still wasn’t very obviously pregnant yet.

  Last month at our wedding I wasn’t showing at all. Not that it mattered; every guest knew we were expecting and was excited for us. And everyone who mattered was there. Alex was my Man of Honor while Melanie stood beside Dylan. He didn’t like the idea of having Tom as his best man the second time around—thought it was bad karma—and I no longer despised the bitch. In our own odd way, Melanie and I had bonded. She was bad mannered and vulgar despite her blue blood, which I found funny, and we had one very important thing in common: a fervent stake in Dylan’s happiness.

  Nell managed to fly in from the West Coast, just having snagged an internship at The Getty. I hoped time and distance didn’t eventually come between us, because that girl would always have a place in my heart. It takes a special kind of person to notice when someone else is in distress and to reach out a helping hand, no questions asked. And I was especially grateful for her presence on my wedding day. Dylan had plenty of friends to fill the chairs behind him, but mine were filled almost entirely by family. And while Darcy, Rene, Caitlin and the rest of those women had taken me into their circle, expressing nothing but acceptance and friendship once Dylan and I were firmly a “thing,” I couldn’t help but feel sort of like a mascot when I
was around them. I would always be fifteen years younger and at a different stage of life, and in a way, I would always think of them as Kasia’s friends.

  As my aunt and Darcy helped to fix my veil in those last minutes before I walked down the aisle, I missed my own mother and my sister terribly. I wouldn’t let the disappointment settle in and ruin this perfect day, though. I reminded myself that I have plenty of family, and family can be defined in many ways.

  Henry was the first person I saw as I started down the makeshift aisle that was set across their gorgeous expanse of land looking over Long Island Sound. He trained his eyes on Hyacinth and Rachel, outfitted in matching cornflower blue dresses, looking adorable. Just about every guest looked on smiling as Rachel tried to corral Hyacinth when she went to hand every person sitting in an aisle seat their very own personal rose petal instead of dusting them along the ground. Henry looked beyond them then, smiling at me with the kind of love I imagine most girls receive from their fathers. And when Dylan took a step forward, flashing his loving eyes my way, I couldn’t possibly feel as if anything was missing in my life.

  But just before Alex joined my hand with Dylan’s, I saw a figure moving in the distance, quickly making her way towards us and taking an empty seat in the back row. A fair haired beauty dressed in a floral dress smiled shyly and blew me a kiss when we locked eyes. No, Olivia wasn’t standing beside me today as I’d hoped, and no, we weren’t even really friends at this point, but we are and would always be sisters, and she was here today—for me.

  After we recited our vows to one another, vows me and Dylan wrote ourselves, I was fixed with a searing kiss. My husband—did I mention how much I love, love, love using that word? My husband pulled me close to his body, his touch, the breath in his lungs, and the soft contours of his mouth telling me exactly what his vows had told me just moments before: