I received a reply straight away:
Did u just call me a bitch? - Bryce
I giggled. Shit!
Yes...yes I did. I kinda like the sound of it, don’t u? - Alexis
No. U do realise u r going 2 have 2 pay 4 that. - Bryce
Pfft, what’s he gonna do?
Oooh, what r u going 2 do about it? Break my leg?
Ok, bad joke. Really bad joke, Alexis. Never mind. I take it back. - Alexis
I quickly sent another text:
P.S. I take back the break leg bit, not the bitch bit.
You’re still my bitch. - Alexis
I typed another, I was now in apology-mode.
P.P.S. I love u by the way. - Alexis.
I waited for a response. I didn’t get one, so I typed again:
Bryce? I’m only kidding. You’re not a bitch, I am. - Alexis
I still hadn’t received a reply minutes later, and after agonisingly waiting yet another minute, I got concerned. I was just about to roll off the sofa and perform some kind of caterpillar manoeuvre in order to go find him—becoming some form of wiggly looper—when a single rose was placed over my head in front of my face. I clasped it as his warm breath caressed my ear.
“One, you’re not a bitch. Two, I love you, too. And three, yes...you will pay for that.”
He gently nipped at my ear lobe then kissed my neck.
I shivered with delight. “I look forward to ‘paying’, Bryce, but that is going to have to wait for a few weeks.”
He walked around to the front of the sofa and put down a tray which contained a hot white chocolate, an espresso, two muffins, some Tim-Tams and a bowl of popcorn. He turned to me and got down on his knees so that his face was level with my own.
“Let me tell you something. When you are ready to make love to me again, you will not be ‘paying’ for anything. I will be the one ‘paying’, paying a considerable amount of attention to making you come in every possible way.”
I swallowed dryly as I processed his words. In the hospital, I’d had a moment of concern of whether or not I’d be able to have sex again so soon after miscarrying, for fear of... well... just in fear. But sitting on the sofa at that very moment, looking at Bryce with eyes full of nothing but want, need, love, and worship, I knew that when the time came, I would not hesitate in making love to him again. How could I? Fuck, I wanted to now.
“How do you plan on making me pay then?” I whispered, as I leaned forward and kissed his lips.
He chuckled and broke free, walking over to the stone fireplace to switch it on.
“Well?” I asked again.
He didn’t answer, just made his way to the Blu-ray player and popped in a disc. I watched him smile as he sat down on the sofa next to me, then he gently took hold of my perfectly good foot and began to massage it.
“Nooo,” I giggled and cringed.
“Yes! We are sitting here and watching The Lord of the Rings, and you, my love, are going to have a foot rub.”
“I hate you,” I said, like I always did.
He looked over at me, and I sensed a slight bit of doubt on his face. I motioned my finger, telling him to come closer to me. He obliged and leaned in further so that our lips could touch.
“No, I don’t,” I whispered against his mouth before I kissed him.
***
Bryce and I watched LOTR: The Fellowship of the Rings before he carried me to the kitchen to watch him cook a kick-arse Beef Stroganoff. It amazed me. He didn’t even put paprika in it and yet it still teased my taste buds with its tasty awesomeness. What also amazed me was that I watched him cook the damn dish and it was so easy, yet it tasted heavenly.
I swore he added a secret ingredient.
He swore he didn’t.
I swore he was lying.
He swore that I was going to ‘pay’ again.
I swore I’d kick him with my cast.
He swore I wouldn’t.
I just swore.
***
After dinner, we watched LOTR: The Two Towers. I must’ve fallen asleep across Bryce’s lap, because the last thing my brain processed was the people of Rohan fleeing to Helm’s Deep.
The next thing my brain processed was being laid down in our bed.
“Shit, I fell asleep, sorry,” I said, feeling a bit groggy as I woke up.
“We are now even,” he assured me.
‘Yes, we are.” I smiled, remembering when he fell asleep while we were watching Lady and the Tramp during our trip to Uluru.
I felt his hands settle on the top of my waistband then, gently, he pulled down the loose yoga pants I was wearing, being extra careful when sliding them over my cast.
His eyes travelled up my legs to my underwear, which were still feminine and pretty. Broken leg, head concussion, heartbreaking miscarriage and subsequent bleeding—I still insisted on having nice underwear. This habit of mine could never be broken. I’d rather wear nothing than wear ‘Nanna-Knickers’.
I could tell Bryce, too, appreciated this habit of mine, because his sight lingered on the navy satin lace brief I was wearing.
Propping myself up on my arms, I watched him crawl up the bed to me, helping me sit up so that he could remove my t-shirt and expose my matching bra. I leaned back on my hands and smiled as he took me in.
“You might want to look away, Mr. Clark. Because that look on your face normally means one thing. And that one thing is not going to happen tonight.”
“Hunny, there are other things that can happen, starting with this.” He grabbed my face and kissed me softly, yet passionately, causing my arms which were supporting the upper part of my body to go weak; shake; and slowly collapse, lowering me to the bed.
His lips stayed attached to mine as I lay flat on my back, Bryce now laying by my side. I held him to me as his tongue gently brushed against mine, caressing it delicately over and over as he dragged his knuckle down the side of my cheek to under my chin.
I savoured his touch and our kiss, equally stroking, licking and nipping at his mouth. The sheer love, lust and connection we felt for each other was as ever present in our kiss as it had always been, and once again it reiterated that we were on the path of healing and would eventually be fine. It also conveyed that we needed each other more than ever.
He broke away from my mouth and pressed his lips into my forehead quite firmly. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled himself back. “I just want to hold you in my arms and be grateful that you are still here with me.”
“Of course I am still here,” I whispered back as my eyelids got heavy. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
The following, morning Bryce had to leave for an appointment with Jessica. I asked him if he was okay and reiterated that if ever he felt he needed to talk, I would always be there for him, to listen, to advise, to share. He assured me that he would talk to me if he needed to and that the reason he was seeing Jessica was simply to get an update on Gareth. But I suspected our recent heartbreaking loss was going to be a topic of discussion, which kind of irritated me. It shouldn’t have, though, because Dr. Jessica Carrot-Top was his psychologist and had been for a long time; therefore, it shouldn’t bother me that he would talk to her and tell her things that he would not tell me.
I couldn’t deny that I was jealous.
I think it was probably because she was a stuck-up, toffee-nosed bitch more than anything. Regardless of my immature insecurities and dislike for Dr. Jessica, I was glad he talked about his feelings rather than bottle them up. I appreciated that fact.
Bryce kissed me deeply just before the doors to the elevator opened and Lucy entered the apartment. He broke away from me slightly breathless, winked and walked toward her. She gave him a long embrace while talking quietly to him and intermittently rubbing his back. Tears filled my eyes at seeing her love and support for her brother. It really was touching.
“I won’t be long,” he said to her as he stepped into the lift.
“Go, its fine. She’ll be fine. I’ve got this.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to me and blew me a kiss as the doors closed. It was then that it dawned on me that he had arranged for Lucy to visit and babysit me while he was gone. Caring, over-protective arse. I was capable of babysitting myself for an hour or so.
Lucy made her way over to where I was on the sofa. “Alexis, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now and I’m not even going to begin to try. Just know I am here for you, whatever you need.” She sat next to me and leaned in for a gentle hug.
“Thank you, Lucy. I’m okay. Just you being there for your brother is all that I need.”
“Don’t worry. I’m keeping my eye on him.”
I let out a breath. “Good, I’m relieved to hear that. So far he has been open about the whole ordeal, but I worry about him being that he is a controlling, stubborn arse at times.”
“Yes, he is all of those things and more, Alexis. But we’ve both learned from past experiences that it is best to be open about our feelings rather than to close them in and pretend they do not exist. Don’t worry. He’ll talk to me if he needs to.”
I smiled at her wearily. Not because I did not believe her, but because it was obvious she knew exactly what she was talking about due to their sad histories—and that was sad in itself.
“I hope so. He desperately wanted this baby, and I think he may be keeping it together for my sake. The thing is, I’m coping. I’m okay. Obviously, I’m devastated, but life does go on. I can’t bring my baby back. I can’t reverse the clock and decide to take the elevator instead of the stairs. I just can’t. All I can do is move on and treasure the time I had when my baby was a part of me. All I can do is remember and be grateful.”
“You are a strong woman, and Bryce is a strong man. You were both meant for each other. You’ll see he’ll be fine too, just like you. Knowing my brother, he will break at some point, then he will find the strength that you obviously already have. Now, I am going to make you a cup of tea. Sit back and relax. I’m here to wait on you hand and foot—Bryce’s orders.”
Lucy made me a cup of tea and we talked about the things we had always talked about. I asked her how Alexander was, and at first she tried to change the subject. It was obvious when I asked her if he had rolled over yet and she dismissively said, ‘Yes, two days ago,’ as though it was nothing and then proceeded to talk about politics.
“Luce, its fine. I can talk about babies, especially your adorable little son. Is that why he’s not here with you? Because you thought seeing him would make me upset?”
She nodded apologetically. “He’s at home with Nic, but he’s sick and miserable and very clingy. He had a slight temperature last night.”
“Luce, go home then. I’m fine. You should be with Alexander, not here babysitting me.”
“No, it’s okay, Nic is with him. She’ll cope.” Her voice did not sound confident.
“Lucy Clark. Go home, now! Bryce will be back soon. My arse is pretty much stuck on this sofa, so GO!”
“Are you sure? Bryce will kill me,” she said, as she bit down on her thumbnail.
“I’ll handle your brother, don’t you worry.”
She smiled. “I know you will. That’s what I love most about you. You have an uncanny form of control over my brother. No one else has even come close to having that type of power over him—no one.”
I smiled at her words, although at times I felt I had no power over him at all. He made it quite clear on numerous occasions that he holds the upper hand. Speaking of which, I need my crutches.
“Can you do one thing for me before you go, though?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Get my crutches from the basement carpark. Your control freak of a brother left them down there so I would have no choice but to let him carry me around.”
She burst out laughing. “He’s good, I’ll give him that. Sure, I’ll go get them now.”
***
Lucy found my crutches and placed them next to the sofa before she left.
I was just about to start my new book about a young girl who discovers her true identity, when the buzzer to the door rang. Fuck! Of course, as soon as I’m alone and in the mood for a fictional happily ever after, I get a visitor. Just my luck.
I slowly got up and, with the assistance of the crutches, hobbled over to the door.
The buzzer sounded a few more times during my journey there. Okay, okay! Hold ya fuckin’ horses, you impatient pain in the arse.
I pressed the buzzer and in a frustrated tone, answered. “Yes?”
“Alexis, it’s me.” Rick’s voice spoke back to me.
Shit! He still doesn’t know about my accident. Shit, shit. I can’t deal with him right now.
I pushed the buzzer and spoke again. “Rick, now is really not a good time.”
Almost instantly, he responded. “Open the door. We need to talk.” His tone seemed slightly more irritated.
I pushed the button again. “Are you still having the kids next week for the holidays?” I asked, figuring that I better clarify this before the time was upon us.
“Yes, of course. Why? Open the door. Why aren’t you opening the door?” he asked again with annoyance and a tone of confusion.
“Good. That’s all we needed to talk about then. Now please, Rick, go. I can’t get into an argument with you right now.” Please just go. Please just go.
“Alexis. Stop being a fucking child and open the fucking door. You could be carrying my baby and we need to talk about it,” he shouted, angrily.
My heart started pounding, and I felt dizzy. I braced myself against the wall as tears started to flood my eyes and face.
I pushed the button again, clearly speaking through sobs. “Please, Rick, just leave me alone. I can’t do this.”
“Alexis, you can’t avoid me. This is too serious. You can’t honestly tell me that there is no chance that the baby you’re carrying is mine.” His tone had softened a little, but he was still persisting.
“Yes, I can,” I struggled to say through whimpers and gritted teeth.
“How can you possibly fucking know?” he shouted again.
At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was beyond upset. He was not going to let this go, so I slammed my fist onto the button and screamed into the intercom. “Because I am no longer carrying a baby, you fuck! I fell. I lost it. I fucking lost my baby. Now fuck off, and leave me alone.”
There was silence for what felt like minutes as I propped myself against the wall crying and reliving my horrific memories, all the guilt and grief flowing back through me.
“Alexis.” His voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “Alexis, fuck. I’m so sorry. Please open the door. I need to know you are okay. Are you alone? Where is Bryce?”
I slumped against the intercom and pressed it with a heavy hand. “He is at an appointment. Just go, Rick, I’m fine.”
“Alexis. Open the door, now...please...I’m begging you.” His tone was now full of concern, and he was pleading, so I surrendered and opened the door.
He practically burst through, ready to hug me when he saw my foot was in a cast.
He put his hand over his mouth and the other through his hair. “Geezus! Shit! What happened?”
I wiped my face and glared at him then turned and made my way back to the sofa. “I told you. I fell.”
He put his hands around my shoulders, trying to help me walk. “Where? How? When?”
I shrugged them off. “Don’t. I can do it myself.” I reached the sofa and sat down.
He didn’t hesitate and sat right down beside me. “Alexis, I’m sorry. Talk to me. What happened?”
“I fell down the stairs. I knocked myself out. I broke my ankle and I lost my baby. That’s it,” I answered dryly.
He placed his hand on my back and gently rubbed. “When did this happen?”
“A couple of days after my party. I was in hospital for five days after
that, I got out yesterday.”
“Do the kids know yet?” He seemed really concerned. I think he too knew that Nate and Charli would be devastated.
“No, they are still at Mum and Dad’s house. Bryce and I were going to pick them up tomorrow so that they were ready for their time with you on Monday.” My tear bank broke again and I sobbed harder this time. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell them, Rick. I don’t think I am ready to tell them, but they’ll know; they are both smart kids.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him. “Don’t worry about that. You obviously need more time. I will drive to Shepparton tomorrow and pick them up. That way you can have this week to sort through everything that you need to sort through. I know I can’t do much for you, but I can do that. I can give you the extra time you need.”
“Thank you, Rick.” I hugged him back.
At that moment, the elevator doors opened and Bryce walked in.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bryce hissed at Rick as he stepped out of the elevator.
I went to speak, “Bryce—”
He stormed over to the sofa. “Get your hands off Alexis, and get the fuck out of my home,” he growled.
He was furious.
Rick stood up. “Bryce, settle down, I’m consoling her. Clearly she is upset. And who are you to tell me not to touch Alexis?”
“Rick—” I tried to talk again but no one seemed to be listening to me.
“I will console her, not you. You have no right to fucking help her grieve the loss of our baby, my baby.”
Oh no, this is why he is so upset. He thinks I was letting Rick grieve.
“Bryce, it wasn’t—” I began to explain, but I was cut off yet again.
“Who said it was your baby, Bryce? It could’ve been mine.”
“Rick! It wasn’t your baby. I told—”
Before I could finish what I was saying, Bryce had thrown a punch which connected perfectly with Rick’s jaw.
Fulfillment Page 17