Putting the paper back into his pocket, he now held up the wedding band. I let him slip it onto my finger. “This ring is my promise to you, that I will love and cherish you for all of my days.”
He stood back, wiping his face and nodding at me. I took a deep breath, and started to read my own vows.
“Derek Rittsman,” I said, peering shyly up at him. “When I first met you, I was an awkward, self-conscious girl who wasn’t happy with her life, even though she couldn’t quite admit it to herself. But you changed that. Every single day, you continue to surprise me. You have made me a happier, healthier, more confident woman, and that is priceless. I can never thank you enough for the impact that you’ve had on my life. But, even with that said, I still cannot express how fond I am of you.”
My voice was trembling, and I was trying my hardest not to break down and cry. The joy, excitement and nerves were overwhelming, but I managed to hold it together. Derek smiled calmly at me, and that was enough for me to pause, take a deep breath, and keep reading.
“You are the most wonderful man I have ever met. The moment you came into my life, you immediately pulled me into adventure. Every day with you is day worth living. I have no doubt in my mind that we were made from and for each other. Derek, you are my soulmate. More than that, you are my life. You are the father to our precious baby. You are the man who looked at a girl who didn’t believe in herself, and somehow convinced her that she was worth something. That, Derek, is some kind of magic.”
I took out his wedding band, and slid it onto his ring finger. “So, with this ring, I am making a promise to you. I will spend every day being everything you believe me to be.”
With our vows said, the pastor pronounced us man and wife. We kissed, and everyone in attendance clapped and cheered.
The reception was outdoors as well, right down on the beach. The sun was setting, so we hung lanterns around the venue, which gave off a mystical blue glow.
After an hour or so of dancing and chatting, we all seated ourselves for cake and toasting. I leaned against Derek as I ate a huge slice of chocolate cake. Chocolate had become my main pregnancy craving.
Charlotte was the first to do a toast. She got up on the stage and took the microphone. As always, she set the standard for fashion, wearing an orange maxi dress and large sunhat, perfect for the location. She waited for her audience to turn their attention toward her, before starting.
“I met Derek the day that I turned one month old,” she said “Though I don’t really recall the occasion, I have heard this story many times from my mother, so I feel safe in telling it. Derek was three and lived next door. My mother was out taking a walk around the neighborhood with me, and Derek, who was playing outside, ran over to her, wide-eyed. He asked my mother what happened to her stomach to make it shrink. She explained to him that she had been pregnant, and had given birth to a baby, then turned the stroller so he could see me. Derek took one look at me, stuck his tongue out, and declared that he didn’t like me, that I was the ugliest thing he had ever seen in his life. So ugly in fact, that he ran back inside the house to hide.”
Charlotte paused as we laughed, smiling to herself. “So, for the next few years, Derek kept his distance. Well, he tried anyway. Soon, my parents started working with Derek’s father, so, whenever the adults would get together to discuss business, Derek and I would be forced to hang out together. At first, I always thought it was the most awful thing in the world. I mean, five year-old me wanted nothing to do with some grubby eight year-old boy who lived only to sneak out of the house and climb trees. I was content with quietly playing with my dolls. But somehow, I always got dragged along on Derek’s adventures. And as I recall, I usually ended up being the one in trouble, for some reason or another.”
She smiled at the memory, and I sensed something bittersweet about it. “Derek became my best friend. He stood by me through the most difficult times in my life. When my parents divorced, and my mother moved back to England, he was the only thing that kept me from breaking down. He also helped me when I wanted to start my own business. Derek has been a consistently stable, caring, wise, and courageous force in my life.”
Charlotte grinned, her lighthearted spirit returning. “Now, Derek was never someone that I ever expected to get married, if we’re being honest. He was always so busy working. And really, I couldn’t imagine any woman deserving a man like him. Until I met Amy, that is. Immediately, after spending just one day with her, I knew. I knew that these two were made for one another. They’re pretty much the same person, when you think about it. Sweet, awkward, loving, funny, unselfish, clever… I could go on and on. But you’re probably getting tired of listening to me ramble by now. I know, I know, I talk a lot. But I can’t help it. Derek and Amy are my best friends. I could talk for hours about how amazing they are.”
Charlotte sighed. “But I won’t. Instead, I’ll leave it at this. Derek and Amy, I have no doubt that you two will live long and happy lives together. I cannot wait to meet your child, and watch what great parents you will be. So, here’s to you.” She lifted her glass in a toast to the couple.
My mother followed, with a short sweet toast that brought tears to my eyes. Walter was next, and by the end of his touching speech, I was practically sobbing. Aunt Joelle and Adam even spoke.
Last of all, Abby took the stage. She faced me, her eyes bright.
“First of all, I would like to take full credit for this union,” she said, then paused. “After all, I babysat the dog.” We all laughed, and Abby grinned. She had always been good with people. “One day, Amy—my sweet, innocent, naive, and slightly socially-awkward sister who hated even leaving her house—called me, and begged me to watch her beast of a dog for a week. When I asked her why, she dodged the question for a good hour, before finally admitting to me that she had met a guy. I didn’t believe her. And yet, here we are.”
Abby tucked her hair behind her ear. “That was a long week, folks. For one, I had suddenly become the sitter of a five-million pound bear, which, as I discovered, likes to lay on top of you and not get up. Yeah. Most of my week was spent trapped and suffocating. But, more importantly, my sister fell in love that week. So, let’s talk about that, since I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re here for.
“As her sister, I am highly critical of any man who thinks he can walk into Amy’s life and actually be good for her. And yet, for all my suspicion, I have not found a single thing wrong with Derek. I am currently convinced that he is inhuman. I’m watching you, man.” Derek chuckled beside me.
“My sister, ever since meeting Derek, has become so much happier, so much more confident in herself, and so much more adventurous. Now, I am the one she’s always begging to go somewhere with her, not the other way around. Our roles have reversed and I can barely keep up with her. She’s living her life, and man, is it a good one.”
Abby wiped under her eye. “My sister is the most generous, selfless person on this planet. To know that she found someone who appreciates her for the goddess that she is, gives me hope. Looking at my little sister, and seeing how happy she is, and knowing that I’m going to be an aunt soon, man, I’m really glad I agreed to watch the dog.”
* * *
Our daughter, Lydia Diane Rittsman, was born in the middle of February. She was small, pink and wrinkly, and she was ours.
The first time I held her, I knew what it meant to be alive. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only me, my husband, and our tiny baby girl… our miracle.
The decision to name her after our mothers had been easy. Walter had finally told Derek the truth—that he and Derek’s mother had been planning on getting back together before the accident. The relationship between father and son had vastly improved over the months leading up to the wedding. With so much lost time to make up for, Derek was happy to be so close to his father. And Walter’s health only seemed to be getting better every day.
The day that Lydia was born, people flowed in and out of the hospital room
, eager to meet her. They all cradled her and cooed… congratulating her lucky parents.
“She has your eyes,” Abby told me, examining Lydia carefully. “But Derek’s smile. Man, she’s beautiful. I am going to be the coolest aunt ever.”
“I made an outfit for her to go home in,” Charlotte said, holding up a bag. “It’s super soft, and there’s a matching hat. Rest assured, she will be the best dressed baby in the country.
Aneta cried when I handed Lydia to her. “She looks just like you did when you were born, Derek,” she blubbered in her thick, Polish accent, then kissed Lydia’s forehead. “Nana Aneta is here for you, little one. Even if you’re as mischievous as your papa was.”
Walter just held Lydia quietly for a while, his eyes never leaving her tiny face as she slept in his arms. Derek sat by me on the hospital bed, holding my hand as we watched the two of them.
It was late in the evening and I was exhausted. I rested my head on Derek’s shoulder, feeling whole.
“I’m so proud of you, Amelia,” Derek said, kissing the side of my head. “You’re so strong.”
I smiled. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I’m completely in love with her already.”
“Lydia? She’s…” Derek inhaled, shaking his head, struggling to find the words. “She’s the most precious thing in the world. The moment the doctor handed her to me, I swear the earth stopped spinning. She looked at me, with those blue eyes of hers—and I have never felt more helpless than in that moment. She looked at me—this tiny, vulnerable person—and it was like I was holding a piece of me.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant. “It’s like taking your heart out of your body and holding it in your hand, then passing it around the room. You don’t really have that much control anymore.”
“All I can do is protect her,” Derek said. “And hope that life is kind to her.”
I looked over at Walter, whose gaze still hadn’t left the little girl. Derek followed my line of sight, and smiled to himself.
“I have a feeling,” I said, “that those two are going to be completely inseparable.”
“Absolutely.” Derek squeezed my hand. “You already know how much he’s going to spoil her. Look at him. He’s completely taken by her.”
“And I’m completely taken by you, Derek. Thank you for giving me this family.”
“I love you, Amy, I will never let you go.” he said.
Protecting Her Heart
CHANCE CARTER
Chapter 1
“I’m glad that shit head is finally out of your life,” Luke said, taking a long swig from his beer.
The bar was hopping tonight. There were plenty of dolled-up women hanging around hoping to meet their future husbands, swarmed by an equal number of horny blokes hoping to get laid.
“Thanks for coming out with me tonight. I wasn’t sure whether I should be celebrating or grieving,” Emma said quietly, shrugging her shoulders.
“Definitely celebrating,” Luke said, holding his glass up toward her, “Cheers!”
Emma grinned at him and clinked her wine glass against his beer mug. She could always count on Luke to keep it real. Ever since high school he had been the only one she could count on to tell her the truth, no matter what it was. Sometimes he would be diplomatic, but mainly he would just tell her like it was, throwing tactfulness out the window.
A leggy blonde sauntered by, flashing Luke her sexy smile. He nodded at her and chuckled, a cheeky grin playing on his full lips. He was sexy, a Gerard Butler type, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. More importantly, he had swagger. As good looking as he was, it was his mischievous confidence that drew the ladies to him. He was both charming and naughty, a bad boy with a romantic streak and a healthy libido, an irresistible combination. Emma was the only woman immune to his charms, which was probably why they were the best of friends. She knew him well, probably better than anyone else.
She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. Luke looked at her with mock innocence and flashed her another one of his famous smiles. She balled up her napkin and threw it at him but he snagged it out of the air before it could hit him. He smirked at her, proud of his lightning-fast reflexes.
“What?” he offered flirtatiously, shrugging his broad shoulders.
“God, you’re such a whore,” Emma said, taking another sip of her wine.
“You know I only have eyes for you, Mimi,” he teased, kissing the air in her direction.
Mimi was the nickname Luke had given her when they were fourteen, and for some reason, he never outgrew it. She didn’t mind though. In fact, she kind of liked it. He used to tease her and say that Mimi was her alter ego, the playful side of herself that she kept hidden from everyone but him.
That wasn’t far from the truth. Emma was a serious person by nature, always worried about what people thought. She was afraid to share her opinions, rock the boat, or put herself first, a perpetual people-pleaser. Not a surprise really that her narcissistic ex had been drawn to her, or why she stayed married to him for ten fucking years.
Luke, on the other hand, was the only one she could truly be herself with. In fact, he wouldn’t put up with anything less. To say he hated her ex-husband was an understatement. He despised him.
“Yeah, yeah. I know I’m cramping your style. Speaking of which, you gave up a hot date to come out with me tonight, didn’t you?” she mused.
“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Let me see those damn divorce papers,” he said, confidently gesturing for her to hand them over.
Emma took them out of her purse and placed them into his waiting hand, a relieved look on her pretty face. He quickly glanced at them and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it was finally over.
“Thank fucking god,” he chortled, tossing it back across the table. “You need to frame that shit. Hang it up like a fucking reward...a well-earned diploma from the university of hard knocks.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she agreed lightly.
They sat in comfortable silence, both of them enjoying the loud music and sipping their drinks. There were a lot of handsome men in the bar and Emma wondered what it would be like to go home with one of them and fuck him just for the sake of fucking. She quietly chided herself, embarrassed by her thoughts. Her ex had trained her well to dismiss her desires.
She only had two lovers in her life and one of them had been her husband. The other had been the boy who took her virginity, Jonas Reid. She was sixteen at the time, convinced she was madly in love. His dad was a school teacher from Wellington, New Zealand, working on an exchange program at their high school for a semester.
Sadly, Jonas was only around for a year, just long enough for her to fall for him. Their love affair had been quick and intense, just like the sex. Truthfully, she was more drawn to his accent than anything else. Every time he said anything in that Kiwi cadence, it made her panties wet. Luke used to tease her about that. He said that accents and gin were like panty-remover for her. He wasn’t wrong about that.
Emma was restless. She had spent years in a loveless marriage, always trying to meet his impossibly high standards, but never able to draw more than harsh criticism and endless emotional abuse from him. She tried to please him, constantly shifting and adjusting her behavior to match his moods, but to no avail. He was never happy. He would string her along with moments of kindness, raising her hopes and then quickly knock her down when she let down her walls. His affection was only offered with strings attached.
Their relationship had been a twisted dance, a dark and desperate tango that kept her forever shackled and confused, destroying her confidence and fragile self-esteem piece by piece. Her friendship with Luke was like a beacon, a bright light guiding her out of a very dark tunnel. He refused to give up on her, patiently dropping those reassuring bread crumbs so she could finally navigate her way home. She would forever be grateful to him for always being there, and more importantly, for not giving up on her. She trus
ted him completely.
Of course, Andrew hated Luke and tried to dismantle their friendship, much in the same way he alienated all of her friends from her. Luke didn’t buy into his bullshit. He really was the caretaker of their friendship, keeping close tabs on her and making sure that they stayed connected and ensuring they got together at least once every few months. They had to do so behind Andrew’s back, of course, but those moments with Luke were the only thing that kept her from losing herself completely, so it was well worth the risk.
She lived vicariously through her friend. He was the complete antithesis of who she was, free-spirited and sexual, bold and fearless. He had a variety of tastes and a huge appetite for sex. She loved hearing the stories about his exotic sexual adventures and hung on every naughty word. His explicit tales excited her, made her hot and curious and kept her desires alive.
Her own sex life was bland, predictable and uninspiring. Andrew was not very imaginative and the few times she had tried to spice up their sex life he would shame her mercilessly, making her feel embarrassed and dirty. As time went on she just kept her desires to herself, locked up tight, safe from the light and from Andrew’s stern judgement.
The only time she explored her fantasies was when she was alone. Spurned on by Luke’s sexy stories, she would imagine herself in his shoes, acting out every erotic scene, bringing herself to one explosive orgasm after another, always after Andrew was sleeping, under the safety of her covers.
She envied Luke. She wanted to be him, no restraints, no shame, no apologies. She was tired of playing it safe all the time. There was nothing holding her back now except her own inexperience, and of course, her lack of confidence. She wished that she was as adventurous and assertive as he was, but over time she had grown scared of her own shadow.
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