“Yeah,” she says, finally sounding as glum as I’ve been feeling. “The timing there is pretty close.”
Wade and I had broken up five years ago.
“It would explain a lot, too,” I tell her. “Maybe that’s why he became such an asshole. He had found someone else, but didn’t want to tell me. So he was being a big jerk so that I’d have no choice but to break up with him. And it worked. I broke up with him.”
“Oh, Em.”
She’s silent a moment.
“I mean, they do say to look for signs like this to know if you’re being cheated on. And hindsight is always twenty/ twenty. But I just can’t imagine Wade doing this.”
“You never thought he’d be such a dick, either,” I remind her. “You kept saying there had to be some explanation.”
“Well, maybe there was,” she says, sounding hopeful again.
At least that makes one of us, who is hopeful, I think.
“And that’s another thing,” she says, suddenly. “He was in training. And then he went off to war. Where and how could he have found the time to cheat on you?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Maybe he met someone just before he left, and he was kind of carrying on two long distance relationships at once. Or maybe it was just an emotional thing at first and then as soon as he finally got me to ditch him, he made it physical. The end of his first deployment did happen just a little bit after I broke up with him.”
“Yeah, and I told you to just hold off and talk to him like he wanted,” she reminds me. “Then maybe you would have some of these questions answered.”
“Jessica,” I groan.
“I know. Now is not the time for I told you so’s.”
“Exactly.”
But she’s right. Wade had been desperate to talk to me when he got home and begged me not to break up with him until we could communicate face to face. He had said there was more to the story that he needed to tell me.
He was so on again, off again though that I couldn’t trust anything he said. I was tired of being hurt by him. And I knew that if I saw him in person again— just like I had in his office today— that I would become weak and melt under his touch. I wouldn’t have the resolve to stand up for myself.
So, I left him, and never looked back. Until now, which was a mistake.
But Jessica does have a point. What would have happened had Wade and I talked, like he had wanted? Why did he want to talk to me so badly if my current theory— that he was trying to break up with me— is the correct one?
Nothing is adding up or making sense. Usually talking to Jessica calms me down, but right now it’s only made me more confused.
“There was a woman in the hallway,” I tell her. “It had to have been the girl’s mom. Was he… cheating on her with me?”
The thought makes me sick.
“I really don’t think Wade would do that,” Jessica says.
“You also didn’t think he’d cheat on me back then, but there’s a little girl whose existence might prove otherwise.”
“Might prove,” Jessica says. “Operative word being might.”
I sigh. I have no idea how to get to the bottom of any of this. The only way would be to give Wade a third chance, and I really don’t think I have that in me. For all I know, he doesn’t even want it. Maybe he was just using me, but as soon as Baby Momma found out, he’s done with me all over again.
Suddenly, my door bell rings.
Looking out the peephole, I see Wade’s face peering back at me.
“Emily,” he’s shouting, while pounding on the door. “Please let me in. Please, let’s talk.”
How does he know where I live? I wonder.
Oh yeah, the paperwork I filled out at work had my home address on it.
Damn Wade. Damn his sexy eyes peering back at me.
I don’t want to let him in. And yet, I do.
“You’ll never guess who’s here,” I nearly whisper into the phone.
“Oh yes I will,” Jessica almost sing-songs back to me. “Wade Covington. Love of your life. Here to save the day and make things right. So that you two can finally have the happily ever after you deserve.”
“Very funny,” I tell her, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. “I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Of course, I’ll let you go,” she says. “You have important business to attend to. But I’ll be waiting on pins and needles to hear the rest of how this all- American love story turns out.”
“Goodbye, Jessica,” I tell her.
I should thank her for her support. But I can barely breathe. I forget to hang up the phone.
The only thing I seem to be able to do, by some sort of force outside myself, is open the damn door, and let Wade Covington back into my life just when I thought he was really gone for good.
Chapter 11 – Wade
Emily looks as surprised to see me as I am that she opened the door for me.
"Thank you," I tell her, pulling her close before she can even shut the door behind me. "I need to talk to you. I need you to hear me out."
She looks at me skeptically. But she let me in, and she's not immediately kicking me out. All good signs.
I shut the door and take her by the hand. I lead her over to her couch and luckily she follows me.
"I don't know where to start," I admit, smoothing her hair away from her eyes.
She's so fucking beautiful.
"Start at the beginning," she says. "Or, at the end of us, last time. I want to know why you were such a jerk."
"Fair enough," I tell her. "But this is hard to talk about."
She squeezes my hand, giving me the strength to continue. I'm so glad she's giving me the chance to explain myself, finally.
"When I was over there, the rescue helicopter we were in went down," I tell her. "It was so scary. Everyone thought we were going to die. I was injured a bit, but nothing major. Some in our unit died. Others were severely injured. One of my friends, Harlow, was significantly injured."
"When did this happen?" she asks, her eyes wide with shock. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I… I don't know," I admit. "Even though I've had plenty of time to think about it. I don't have a good answer. I just went into shock. I didn't want to deal with it, process it."
She nods.
"I can understand that," she says.
"I was treated for my physical injuries but I didn't feel like I was getting any better. I had constant fear that I was going to die. I fell into a deep fucking depression. I thought life wasn't worth living. I began to question why you even wanted to be with me."
"Wow."
She strokes my hand, and looks genuinely concerned.
"PTSD?" she asks.
I nod my head.
"It makes perfect sense now, but back then, I didn't even know what it was," I tell her. "I'd heard of it— we'd even had some training on it— but it all seemed very theoretical. I didn't think it could actually happen to me."
"Perfectly understandable," she says.
Her eyes are so full of compassion that I’m wondering why I never told her until now. I suppose it made me feel too weak and vulnerable. But now I see that she could have helped me heal.
“Something in my fucked up mind told me that I wasn’t good enough for you. That I’d only drag you down. That I should be dead and that you should go on without me. I guess I just acted on those thoughts, even though they don’t make logical sense.”
“Nothing about PTSD is logical,” she says, reassuringly. “I’m no expert, but I’ve read about it for some of my classes. It’s an issue in social work. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I know,” I tell her. “The only thing I’m ashamed of is not telling you sooner. I tried to get you to talk to me when I came back but I understand why you wouldn’t. And I was still in a deep, dark place then, so it was probably for the best that we weren’t together at that time.”
I pause, realizing I just said, “at that
time.” Meaning, that it’s for the best we’re together now.
“So how did you get better?” she asks.
“I had a lot of therapy. I can’t say much of it helped much, when I was still in the military. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the VA system is quite a mess. I was honorably discharged and only once I was in the private sector did I find some really good help.”
“I’m so glad you got help.”
“Me too,” I agree. “Some of it was from doctors and therapists while other help came from less traditional sources. Hypnotherapists. Natural healers. I read a lot about cognitive behavioral therapy and taught myself the tricks and tools. I even went to Native American reservation and spent time at sweat lodges and learning ancient healing practices.”
“That’s amazing that you were able to heal yourself,” she says.
Then, she looks up at me quizzically.
“Your company,” she says. “That’s what these apps are about, right? I read some of the emails. A lot of people have been really helped by them.”
“I worked with the nation’s top doctors and alternative healers to make these apps,” I tell her. “I wanted to help others the way I had been helped. I have apps for PTSD, and for all kinds of other things too.”
“I know,” she says, beaming proudly. “I read the emails. And I think it’s amazing. It could even help the foundation I’m starting as part of my social work program. There are a lot of mental health issues that keep people from achieving their full potential.”
“I’d love to help you with that,” I say. “But, you know, I’m a big bad billionaire who is too selfish and greedy with my money…”
She laughs and swats at my shoulder playfully.
“Oh stop it,” she says. “I know I was being dumb. I get it now. I get what you’re doing.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, with a wink. Then my tone turns serious. “I know what your family went through, when your dad was defrauded like that. I understand your distrust of rich people. I should have explained earlier, but I haven’t really had a chance.”
“You should have explained a lot of things earlier…”
She trails off, looking at me, waiting for me to continue.
“That’s true.”
I sigh. It all comes down to this. Will she accept me as I am… a flawed man who managed to mostly heal himself? A father who has made bad decisions but is still glad about the outcome?
“When I came back and you didn’t want to talk to me, I did a lot of stupid things,” I admit. “One of them was having random, drunk sex with a girl I had just met.”
She recoils a bit, but doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“So that’s how you lost your virginity?” she asks.
“Yeah. Not my best move.”
She chuckles.
“Well, I figured you would have lost it before I did,” she says. “I just didn’t know it would be…”
“Like that?” I finish for her, as she trails off again.
“Yeah.”
She half chuckles again, half sighs.
“Me neither. It was a foolish decision. I tried to wear a condom but I was so shit faced I’m sure I probably put it on wrong or something. I couldn’t even believe it afterwards, and I certainly couldn’t believe it when she told me she was pregnant. She and I never even tried to have an actual relationship after that; we both knew it was just a one night stand and nothing further. We have a pretty good co-parenting relationship, which is as much as I could ask for out of this situation so I’m grateful. But it was not the most ideal way to have sex for the first time. I certainly wish it had been with you. Except then…”
Now it’s my turn to trail off.
“Then, you wouldn’t have had your daughter,” she guesses.
“Right.”
“My daughter is the best thing that ever happened to me,” I tell her. “And you’re in a very close second place.”
She shakes her head while partly rolling her eyes, but I stop her.
“Seriously,” I tell her. “I haven’t known love other than with you. But I could never be here today telling you about all of this if I didn’t have my daughter. She saved my life. I wanted to be a strong man for her. And, since I’m telling you everything, part of me always hoped we’d get back together.”
“Oh yeah?”
She raises her eyebrows at me.
“I know, I know,” I tell her. “Then why did I wait for our chance meeting instead of making it happen?”
She nods.
“Because I was a pussy,” I confess. “I kept telling myself you’d never forgive me. You’d never understand about my daughter. I thought for sure you’d moved on, found a good guy, gotten married. But I stalked your Facebook, and didn’t see any traces of a guy. So I had hope in the back of my mind that somehow I’d get my act together and get you back. Now that I had the opportunity, I wasn’t going to let you walk away again. I had to come tell you how I feel.”
She laughs.
“You stalked my Facebook?”
“Guilty.”
“I can’t say I didn’t try the same with you,” she says, blushing.
“But I don’t have a public Facebook page,” I tell her. “I just go by a pseudonym so I can stalk other people. I’m not sure I believe in social media.”
“Well, you sure made it a lot harder to find anything out about you,” she says, smiling.
I pull her into my lap and start kissing her.
“That’s because I needed to tell you all about it myself. Because I still love you. I always have.”
She kisses me back, with ferocious intensity, and then she says the four words I’m dying to hear:
“I still love you too.”
Chapter 12 – Emily
I love Wade too. I really do. I’ve always known it and now I’ve finally told him.
“And now, Emily, it’s time for me to take care of some unfinished business between us,” he says.
I smile at him.
“Is it, now?”
He picks me up and carries me to my bedroom. It seems effortless on his behalf, and I feel like I’m back in high school again.
Once we’re there, he slips his hand back under my skirt, just like it had been earlier.
“I need to check and see how you’re really feeling. And how much you really me to take your virginity. Because I want to make it as good for you as I possibly can.”
He inserts a finger under my panties and right into my pussy. I’m so wet that my juices slide all over his fingers.
“You really do want me to pop your cherry,” he says, as if there were any question in either of our minds. I rather like the process he’s going through, though; it makes everything seem more innocent and mysterious. “Very good. But I need to inspect you first, and make sure you have your virginity. Please remove your blouse.”
“Remove my…?”
I’m not sure how he would inspect anything up there that would confirm my virginity. But I guess we have to start somewhere. And it’s as if I’m in a trance and must obey what he says. I unbutton the front of the shirt part of the uniform and peel it off, so that I’m only wearing my bra.
“Oh, you won’t need that,” he says. “In fact, let me have it.”
I remove my bra and hand it to him. He stares at my naked breasts and then puts his hands on them.
“Large yet firm,” he says, approvingly. “Just as I remember them being.”
He takes my nipples between his fingers and rubs them, and I can’t help but let a gasp of pleasure escape my lips.
“I just want a little taste.”
He puts one of my nipples in his mouth and sucks on it.
“Oh my God,” I moan, leaning in to him, wanting him to take me right here and now.
But he backs up and gives me another command.
“And now your panties please. Hand them over.”
I reach under my skirt but he says, “No. Bend over and do it. I need to check
out your ass too. I need to check out everything. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen all of you.”
I turn around and bend down, so that my ass is sticking up and out from under the skirt. He slaps my ass and then takes my ass cheeks in both of his hands. I’m incredibly turned on by the fact that I’m completely exposed to him. He can see anything he wants, and do anything he wants, too.
“Very good. This is still such a great ass. It’s so amazing.”
He holds my thong over to the side and inserts two fingers into my pussy as he keeps the other hand on my ass. He rubs his fingers back and forth and pushes them deep inside me.
“Ouch!” I cry.
“Sorry,” I immediately say, because I want him to keep doing that, but it just hurts.
“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. With waiting for me all this time.”
He’s right. I’ve been waiting for him. That’s why I’ve never had sex with anyone else.
“You’re my little virgin, aren’t you?” he asks, rubbing his finger up and down my clit and the inner lips of my pussy, making my legs quiver.
“Yes.”
“You sure are,” he says.
He comes up close behind me… so close that I can feel his hard cock on the back of my ass and pussy.
“Now give me your panties.”
I step out of my panties and hand them to him. He puts them in his pocket, leaving my bra on the floor where it had fallen. I feel a chill of excitement running through me.
I can’t wait for him to take my virginity. I just want his fingers back in my pussy, and his cock pressing up against my ass again. I want him to make me feel like he did back in high school, and just earlier today in his office, but even better.
Hot Single Daddy: A Second Chance, First Time Romance Page 6