by Lane Hart
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispers. “I never should’ve left town this summer.”
“It’s…okay,” I tell him, hearing his heart thumping like a crazed drum against my ear. “I forgive…you. For everything.”
When Blake pulls away, still sitting on the edge of the bed he asks, “Where’s the baby? Is-is he or she all right?”
I nod and try to speak through the uncontrollable sobs. “They-they took him…” I point down the hallway even though I have no idea where everyone went while I was in recovery before being brought to a regular room.
“Him?” Blake repeats, eyes widening before I realize I hadn’t even told him.
“Yes, him, a big, eight-pound, ten-ounce boy.”
“Holy shit. We have a boy,” he says softly to himself. Then, he runs his fingers through his sweaty, black hair and gets to his feet. “Call them back,” he tells me.
“What?” I ask.
“Tell them you changed your mind and we want him back,” Blake says in a rush.
“But, I can’t…” I start to explain when he drops to his knees next to the bed and clutches my hand with both of his.
“I’ll take him if you don’t want him. I’ll love him enough for both of us, and I swear I will never let him think for a second that he was unwanted. Just please let me see him! I need to see my son and-and hold him.”
I’m not sure, but through my blurred vision I think Blake’s eyes look glassy.
“They took him and-and everyone…left me…a-alone!” I tell him. “I don’t know where he is!”
Jumping up, Blake says, “I’ll find him. I have to find him!” He lifts my knuckles to his lips, and then he takes off, leaving me on my own like everyone else when I’m drowning in feelings.
Unable to take a second longer, I press the red button to call the nurse.
Blake
I don’t have any clue where I’m going, all I know is that I have to find Ben and Kari to tell them we changed our mind. Or at least that I changed my mind. And while Caroline looked devastated, she didn’t say she had wanted him.
Him.
A boy.
My son.
There are several signs pointing the way to the nursery, so that’s the direction I go, praying they haven’t let them leave with my son yet.
Caroline and I have a son together; and while I’ve been well aware of that notion for months now, I don’t think it really hits me until I reach the glass room at the end of the hallway and see Aric holding a bundle on the other side. Swaddled in a pink and blue striped blanket, all I can see is the top of his jet-black head of hair that’s identical to mine.
I’m so relieved he’s still here, in the hospital and that he’s with Caroline’s family that my entire body sags in relief. Her mom and dad are in the room too, so busy crying that they haven’t even seen me yet. I go over and try to open the door to get to him, but it’s locked. Slapping my palms on the glass finally gets everyone’s attention, even a few nurses.
“Hey! Let me in! That’s my son!” I yell through the glass.
The nurses don’t move. They just look to Aric, who gives a nod before one of them comes over and opens the door for me.
“Thank you,” I tell her as I slip past her to get a closer look at the tiny person in Aric’s arms.
“Wow. Caroline said he was big, but he looks so tiny and fragile,” I whisper since his eyes are closed. Well, they were. Hearing me, hearing my voice, his eyes pop open. They’re a beautiful, dark blue color, and I think they’re searching around for me.
“Do you want to hold him?” Aric asks.
“No,” I tell him. “I don’t want to just hold him. I want to keep him.”
“Here,” Aric says as he slowly holds him toward me, and I cradle him in my arms against my chest. Those blue eyes stare up at me like they’re studying my face, memorizing it while my own do the same.
“You are something else,” I tell him as I blink away tears. “And I love you so much I’m never letting you go.” To Aric and his parents, I say, “The adoption is off. I can’t give him up. I thought Caroline and I were doing what was best for him, but I can’t…”
“Didn’t Caroline tell you?” her mother asks me through her sniffles.
“Tell me what?”
“She changed her mind,” Aric says. “She’s keeping him. We told the Bartons right before they took her in for the C-section.”
“Seriously?” I ask in surprise.
“They were devastated but very supportive,” Mr. Prince explains.
“But I don’t understand,” I tell them, unable to take my eyes off my son. “I saw Caroline, and she said they took him. I thought she meant the Bartons.”
“No, the nurse took him to examine him and give him his first bath after he was born,” Aric tells me. “As soon as the pediatrician comes to give him the all-clear, they’ll take him back to Caroline’s room.”
“Oh,” I mutter just as the nursery door opens and a nurse pushes Caroline in a wheelchair inside.
“Aw! There he is!” she exclaims as tears stream down her face and she reaches for his foot in the blanket. “I changed my mind about the adoption. I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t stop crying after they took him for his bath, and everyone left me. I just wanted to see him again, and I couldn’t chase you.”
“God, I’m so sorry,” I tell her as I lower our son down into her arms. “I’m so sorry about everything. I want to be with you and with him, whatever it takes, okay? A few years ago, you told me to wait until I could be with someone special, and I did. I love you, Caroline. I loved you the night we made him, and then I fell in love with you these past few months. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I’ll wait, however long it takes.”
“I, uh, I realized that I’m in love with you too,” Caroline tells me as she places a kiss on the baby’s forehead. “You and him. I thought I was doing what was best for both of you, telling you to go to Duke and giving him to a couple who were married and had a forever kind of love.”
Crouching down in front of her wheelchair, I clasp her free hand and tell her, “Who knows, maybe we could have a forever kind of love? I would really like to give it a try.”
“Me too,” Caroline agrees. “And I meant what I said earlier. I forgive you. Seeing him, holding him, already, even though I just met him, I can’t imagine my life without you both.”
“Oh, thank god,” I say as I bring her knuckles to my lips again. “Now, I just have one last question.”
“What’s that?” I ask with a smile.
“What are we going to name him?”
Epilogue
Caroline
September
“I’m sooo tired,” I say as I fall into bed at five a.m.
“Me too,” Blake murmurs from the pillow next to mine. “I thought tonight was going to be the night he slept for more than two hours.”
“No shit. My boobs are so sore, and I’m so exhausted I fell asleep on the toilet this morning for like an hour.”
“That’s where you were? I thought you were feeding Price. Guess that means he’ll be awake any second now…”
“Maybe we should let him sleep in the bed with us,” I suggest. “That way, we don’t have to get up.”
“No. Hell no,” Blake says as he reaches over and drags me closer to him. “If Price was in here with us, we would never have sex again.”
“That would be a shame,” I tell him before placing a kiss on his cheek and then rolling on top of him. “I’m not sure what it is, but seeing you take care of him makes me want to do very dirty things to you, especially when you volunteer to take on the diaper changes.”
I kiss him again, and Blake says against my lips, “I thought you were exhausted.”
“I’m awake. You’re awake. Let’s make the most of it.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agrees. “Can you crawl over and grab a condom from the drawer?”
It’s only been about four weeks since
I was cleared for intercourse by my doctor, who warned that I would be extremely fertile while breast feeding. That’s why Blake and I keep a stash of condoms in the bedside table until we’re ready for Price to have a little brother or sister. While I may bitch and moan, I love our son more than anything in the world and would like to have more kids one day in the future.
Price is the sweetest little guy. I love his adorable face that sometimes smiles when he sleeps and his tiny little fingers and toes. It’s amazing how his blue eyes follow me and Blake around the room and how good he smells, like a gift from heaven.
An unexpected gift, but one all the same.
For now, we’re living in Blake’s house with his dad, who is surprisingly helpful with taking care of Price. He’s even cordial to Blake’s mom Collette when she comes to visit, except it’s obvious that he’s lonely and miserable. And my parents? Well, we usually have to kick them out of here every night because they can’t get enough of their grandson.
Blake and I both decided to defer college for a year until our son is a little older before Blake goes to school to get his BA and then applies to law school. And me? Well, I’m still trying to figure out what I want to study because I have no idea. All I want to do right now is be the best mother I can be to Price, not because I have to but because I want to.
Since it’s dark with just the light from outside the street filtering in through the bedroom windows, I have to stick my hand in the drawer and feel around for the condom box. Before I find it, my fingertips graze something hard with a fuzzy texture that’s square on top.
Holy shit! I think it’s a ring box.
Unable to quell my curiosity, I yank it out and hold it up to the light.
“Ah, Blake? What is this?” I ask in a whisper as I sit back on my knees.
“What?” he asks, sitting up in bed and taking the box from my hands. “Oh, this? This is your engagement ring,” he says simply.
“My engagement ring?” I repeat. Maybe sleep deprivation is making me loopy.
Blake peels the box open, and the huge diamond inside glistens in the darkness like a star, stealing my breath from my lungs.
“I was saving it for the right time to pop the question, but there hasn’t been one and I’m tired of waiting,” he tells me. “Caroline Prince, you’re my best friend, the best mother our son can ask for, and my soulmate. I love you, and I wouldn’t change a single thing that’s happened to us, because it still feels like I’m dreaming every time I wake up and see your face in my bed. So, will you please consider spending the rest of your life with me?”
“Yes!” I exclaim as I throw my arms around his neck and ride him down to the mattress. The box with the ring is forgotten because it’s just a piece of jewelry. How Blake and I feel about each other goes much deeper than that.
And for the next few minutes, we rip each other’s pajamas off so that our bodies can get as close as humanly possible, because our souls have already been sealed together as one. How do I know? Because the proof is sleeping in a crib just down the hall. We may have created our son by chance, but we make the decision to love him and each other fiercely by choice every single day.
The End
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.
The authors acknowledge the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.
© 2020 Editor's Choice Publishing
All Rights Reserved.
Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editor’s Choice Publishing
P.O. Box 10024
Greensboro, NC 27404
Edited by Angela Snyder
Cover by EmCat Designs
WARNING: WHILE HAVE MERCY IS A HIGH SCHOOL BULLY ROMANCE, IT CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC LANGUAGE AND DARK THEMES.
Synopsis
My relationship with Royal Fitzpatrick has always been complicated and messy. At times, it’s even been incredibly painful.
When I finally decide to stand up to him our senior year, unable to take another second of his bullying, Royal does the last thing I expected – he promises to change his evil ways.
But I’ve been hurt by him for too long. He’s a lost cause.
We are a lost cause.
At least that’s what I tell myself for months until I see him actually become the good, kind man I knew he could be.
Unfortunately, Royal still has secrets, ones he’s intentionally kept from me and his best friends.
So while I was stupidly planning our future together, Royal was just trying to make amends before he says a final goodbye.
Chapter 1
Royal Fitzpatrick
The Beginning
The summer before junior year at Mercy Academy…
“Get out of the fucking car, Royal!”
“No.” I refuse my father yet again like the stubborn, sullen teenage boy I am.
“This isn’t negotiable,” he grits out, jaw clenched tight. “All the church asked in exchange for keeping their mouths shut and not turning you in to the police was for us to pay for damages and for you to attend this silly, little camp. I will not have those assholes spreading rumors about what you’ve done, ruining our family’s name. Now, get out of the car, or I swear to God I will throw you out on the streets where you can fend for yourself!”
As my father’s rant comes to an end, an older man in a, no shit, colorful Hawaiian shirt, comes smiling up to the driver side of my dad’s new, yellow Acura NSX that costs almost as much as his Ferrari.
“Great,” he mutters, running his fingers through his auburn curls before rolling down the window. Mom always said his quick temper was genetic, just a part of his Irish background that he can’t help and that I also inherited. It’s not an excuse I’ll ever buy; but as a distraction technique, I still like to imagine him as the Notre Dame leprechaun whenever he’s pounding his fists into me.
“Do you need any help with your bags?” the man asks.
“No. I just need to finish saying goodbye to my son,” my father snaps at him.
“Well, we have designated parking for that,” the old geezer responds, pointing to the row of parking spaces. “So, I’m going to need you to move over so other cars can get through.”
“Yeah, in a fucking second,” my dad says before the window goes back up. Turning to me, he says, “You can either get out here, or I’ll have them drag you out by your hair at boot camp!”
Screw that.
I’ll take a bunch of bible thumping hypocrites over that harsh brutality any day.
When I reach for the latch and open the door, my father mutters, “That’s what I thought. You’re too much of a pussy to ever survive boot camp.” I wince at his insult before climbing out of the car. “Royal!” he shouts when I start to shut the door to go get my bag out of the trunk.
“What?” I ask, leaning down to see his face.
“If I get even one phone call from this place saying you’re in trouble, you can kiss all of your friends goodbye; because you’ll be spending the next two years away at military school. The toughest one I can find to straighten your ass out!”
I slam the door on him then and walk around to grab up my bag. As soon as I slam the trunk, he revs the engine and takes off so fast the wheels squeal.
Asshole.
Of all the stupid shit I’ve done, how was I to know that nearly killing myself by ramming his Ferrari through a church would be the one to break my father’s back? The place was old as fuck and needed to be rebuilt anyway. Who cares if it’s been around since the 1800s. I bet the crazy o
ld fuckers hung witches from the trees just outside of it. My dad doesn’t even give a shit about the “historical structure”, as the members refer to it, or that I could’ve died if not for the airbags. He just doesn’t want anyone to find out I was responsible for the damage and make him look bad.
I head inside the front of the building with my bag over my shoulder, following the signs pointing the way to check-in. When I spot Garrett Hyde, I mutter a curse just as he spots me and starts walking over. Not only are we both going to be juniors at Mercy in the fall, but his father also happens to be the pastor from the church I totaled. I should’ve known the dickhead would be here too.
“Hey, man,” Garrett says with a grin like we’re friends or something when he’s standing a foot away from me in his khaki shorts and polo, his light brown hair so short its nearly shaved. He’s so clean-cut preppy that it’s seriously pathetic, like he’s trying way too hard to look the part of a good, little boy. “My father has you rooming with me, you know, so I can keep an eye on you.”
“That’s fucking great,” I grumble.
“Shh! You can’t say the f-word here,” he whispers wide-eyed while glancing nervously around the room to see if anyone overheard me.
“Why not? Is your god going to strike me down if I do?” I huff. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck! Nope. I’m still standing here, unfortunately alive in this hellhole.”
“Hell is going to be a lot hotter than this,” Garrett responds. “But I’m sure you’ll find that out firsthand one of these days.”