Until I Fall

by Claudia Burgoa

  Until I Fall

  Copyright © 2017 by Claudia Burgoa

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, media, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and-or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Design by:

  by Hang Le

  Edited by:

  Paulina Burgoa

  Virginia Tesy Carey

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Contents

  Until I Fall

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Claudia Burgoa

  About the Author

  To the brave ones, the courageous. To those who still battle against cancer. To the ones who left us after fighting. To their loved ones. You are bravever than you believe, stronger than you think and beautiful. My heart is with you.

  To Efren, who courageously fought for two years until the end. I love you and miss your mischevious personality. He’d be thirty-eight this year, just like Anderson.

  Soulmates aren’t hatched, they grow. You make a connection, build a relationship, and then, you realize: This is my soulmate. ~ Anonymous

  ASPEN

  Scarlett: Where are you?

  I SIGH AS I see a group text from Scarlett and Brynn appear on my screen.

  Me: Heading home, you?

  Brynn: We’re going to Johnny’s. Do you want to meet us there?

  Me: Nope, I have a test tomorrow. Unlike you two geniuses, I have to study so I don’t flunk.

  Michael: What have I told you about texting and walking?

  I halt, gasping as I read Michael’s text. My lips spread into a wide smile thinking of him, how I miss his crystal blue eyes, his boyish grin and . . . I sigh. He’s so far away from me, and neither one of us has plans to visit the other until next Christmas.

  Me: Many, many . . .

  My heart beats faster, stopping me from typing. I narrow my gaze at the phone, then look up. I find him right in front of my apartment, sauntering toward me. He’s here. Slipping my phone inside my lab coat, I rush to meet him.

  “You’re here!” I jump into his arms, my legs hugging his waist, my hands cupping his face as I make sure he’s here—with me. It’s been so long; I can’t believe he’s here. The exhaustion disappears, who needs caffeine? His touch energizes me, that spark of ours is all I need to come back to life. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d cut class for you.”

  “Keys,” he demands. He kisses the corner of my mouth. “You look cute wearing that white coat, Doc.”

  I hand them over, anxious to be inside my place.

  “You can’t call me that yet. It’s going to take years for me to become one.” I nibble his neck. He growls while fidgeting with the lock. “Take us to my room.”

  “Where’s the scaredy-cat?”

  “Scarlett and Brynn went to one of the bars near campus,” I groan. He’s got to be kidding me. Asking for his sister just as we’re about to have sex. Is he for real?

  “Good, we have a few hours to ourselves. I love my sister, but I hate when she interrupts.”

  I can’t agree more; my bestie is wonderful until she turns into the third wheel. “Nothing like the present, then. To my quarters, my soldier.”

  “I’m not a soldier, and you’re too bossy tonight. I should spank you.” He squeezes my ass with one hand, burying the other between my curly hair, bringing his mouth down to mine.

  He kisses me slowly; tasting me for the first time, deeply. Our tongues dance, soothing our souls after all the time we were apart. My fingers grip the back of his neck, I release his waist, lowering myself off him. Suddenly it hits me, why he’s here. Like a sharp stab right in the center of my heart—he’s going on a mission.

  “You’re leaving?” He stays quiet, pressing me harder against his body and taking my lips again. I push him away gently. “For how long?”

  “You know I can’t say anything, Aspen.”

  I lean my head against his chest, listening to his heart. His beat slows like mine. My arms go around his waist and we stay like that for several minutes. Remember the pact. You not only agreed to love him as a man, but to understand who he is. He’s a SEAL. He lives to serve his country, to defend our freedom. A selfish part of me hates it. The rest understands that without men like him, the world would be a scarier place. Men like my fiancé are the ones who keep this country free. Still, I miss him when he’s away. I fear something bad might happen during those missions.

  After several minutes, and once I make my own peace, I straighten my spine, pushing down the fear, the panic, and everything that he doesn’t need from me. He needs a woman who will love, support, and accept him. Most of all, he needs me to wait for him while he fights for everyone. I release him. My hands slide down his chest, gliding down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off his body, and leaving his well-defined torso bare.

  Pressing my hands to his tanned skin, I’m ready to face him with a broad smile and willing to spend the next . . .”How long are you here for?”

  “Less than twelve hours,” he announces, shedding my white coat and growling. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stares at my short sundress, his eyes filled with lust.

  “Why didn’t you call?” I help him undo his belt and fidget with the buttons of his jeans.

  “My fiancée has a small problem.” He brushes a kiss across my forehead.

  “She does?” A grin tugs at my lips. “What is this problem you’re talking about?”

  “You worry as soon as I tell you I have a mission.” He caresses my wrinkled forehead, kissing my nose and cheeks.

  “Why do you look so gorgeous tonight?” he whispers nibbling my ear. “Hot date?”

  “I had a presentation earlier, I could only change my shoes after the class.” Lifting my leg, I show him my light blue converse. The heels are in the trunk of my car. “My hot dates are only with this hot Navy S
EAL who’s leaving soon. And only when he’s not saving the world.” I slowly slide his pants and boxers off; his thick cock springs up as it’s released from the plaid fabric. Pressing my lips against his naked chest I trace a line down to his dick, lifting my gaze I lick my lips enthusiastically.

  “I want to taste you,” I beg, kissing the tip and holding it with both hands first. Opening my mouth, I take him in deep, bobbing twice before I suck the head. His legs tremble. He grasps my hair, pushing himself in deeper. My tongue swirls around his length as I release him, and give him a knowing smile. He’s at my mercy. “Why are you quiet?”

  “Worried about leaving you with graduation approaching and all the wedding preparations. I’m also praying that we grow old together.” He breathes. “These have been the best four years of my life.”

  The air in the room disappears, my lungs have trouble working. No, I can’t let him start his ‘if I don’t come back’ talk. I hate when he does this. I take him again, he has to forget about tomorrow and stay with me for the next twelve hours. It’s only us for the night.

  “Fuck, we can’t.” He stops me, his lids heavy and his breathing shallow. He takes his boots, socks, and everything off. “I need to be inside of you before we do other things, baby. I haven’t had you in a long time.”

  He bunches the skirt of my dress up, running a hand over my soaking underwear and rubbing my needy heat. “Promise to make it up to you later.”

  His hand moves away. I gasp, thrusting my hips desperately for release. Those blue eyes are promising me that I’ll have the time of my life. I take a step back, waiting for his next move. He shoots me a heated glance, his hands propped on his hips and his expression loving. He reaches for me, trying to pull me into his grasp.

  I open my mouth but snap it as I hear Papa Don’t Preach. Squeezing my eyes for a few seconds, I wait until the call goes to voicemail. It only takes a second for it to start ringing again. “Dad,” I exhale, searching for my lab coat, and fishing for my phone. “Hey, Dad.”

  “You haven’t called me, where are you?” I stare at the ceiling, praying for strength. I adore my father, but his constant need to control me drives me insane. “You have only two jobs to do, well no, three. Go to school, get good grades and call me, so I know you’re safe.”

  I take two deep breaths, winking at Michael. “Sorry, I was famished when I got home and forgot to call.”

  “It doesn’t take much to dial my number and let me know you’re safe, Aspen,” he chides me. “Your mother and I are disappointed in you. Where are you?”

  My eyes shift to the floor; he’s not going to be happy. “I’m safe, in my apartment with Michael.”

  “Why is he with you? This relationship is too codependent!”

  There he goes, insisting that we’re codependent and should see other people. My father hates the idea of me marrying so young. He doesn’t understand that Michael and I are meant for each other. We don’t need to date other people. “Well, Dad. He’s here because sometimes he has a day off and travels to Houston to spend it with me.”

  “That’s not healthy.”

  “It’s normal when two people are engaged but live in different cities.”

  “Don’t you get sassy with me, young lady.”

  “Yes, Dad.” I roll my eyes.

  “Are you planning on coming home for Christmas?”

  I meet Michael’s eyes.

  When is he coming back?

  Are we still planning on having a few days together in San Diego?

  That’s a discussion for another day. “We’ll talk about winter break later.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Going to visit my fiancé matters.”

  “We’ll see, Aspen.”

  I sigh, my eyes close for a few beats. Why is he so difficult? “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Please, do. I love you, sweetheart.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  “It’s as if he knows I’m close to you.” He sighs, biting the words. I bet he’s as frustrated as I am. “He hates me.”

  You’re screwing his daughter, of course, he’s not a fan. I keep that part to myself. “No. He worries about me and asks that I call him when I have a late class. Dad doesn’t hate you.” I want to beg him to stop. I’ve had enough of my father’s words. “Can we forget about him? We don’t have much time together, Michael.”

  “Marry me?” He takes my left hand pressing it against his chest.

  I pull it out of his grasp, showing him the solitare ring he gave me almost a year ago. “I believe we already went through this ritual. But we could reenact what happened after I said yes.”

  I slip off my dress, his mouth parts as his chest heaves—subject forgotten. To assure he won’t mention Dad again, I snap open the pink bra letting my boobs spill out. I grin as his eyes widen, almost falling at the sight.

  “Bed,” I order. “We’ll loosen you up in bed and then . . . you’ll see. Tonight is ours. I bet it’ll be a few months before we can be together again.” My heart slows with those words, why did I have to remind us that we’re going to be apart for a long time?

  “I love you, future Mrs. Reynolds.” He lifts me, gently settling me in the middle of the bed, pushing my legs open. “Still on the pill?”

  “Of course!” My father would kill me if my boyfriend knocks me up before the wedding. “I’m not ready to have your babies, yet.”

  “Wrap your legs around me.” He positions himself right at my entrance, searching for my gaze. Love is all I see, my heart swells at the sight of his loving stare.

  “I love you,” he mutters as he sinks into me. “You okay?”

  No, I don’t want you to go.

  “Perfect,” I lie, smiling at him. “Please, don’t be gentle. Not this round.”

  He pulls out and thrusts in hard. My hips match the rhythm as he plunges inside me faster, harder. He cups my left breast, flicking the nipple with his playful tongue. He continues with his ministration. Faster. Harder. Deeper. The energy between us increases, the build up inside me is too much. My body quivers as I explode from the inside out. His speed increases, thrusting three more times before he stops, his limbs shivering and his mouth yelling my name.

  “I love you with all my heart, Mike. Promise you’ll come back to me, baby.”

  He presses together his lips, closing his eyes.

  My heart speeds up, the fear etched in his features sends goosebumps all over my skin. He needs to be okay, he’ll come back.

  He lowers his head and kisses my neck. “Always. I’ll always be by your side,” he murmurs, kissing the tear that slides from the corner of my eye. “Be brave, and wait for me.”

  “Always.”

  Four months later

  What would you say if you had one last chance to say goodbye?

  Do you regret the last words you said to the love of your life?

  How do you survive after the ultimate loss?

  Staring at the maple color coffin in front of me, I wish for a do-over—a few more minutes, one last kiss. One final touch. Placing my hand on top of it, I remember our last time together, our last kiss, and our last dance. The overcast sky moves enough, letting a ray of sun come through the window to hit the solitaire diamond I wear on my middle finger. It was only a couple of months ago when he promised to return. We had plans, a wedding, a forever.

  I take the black velvet box from my black jacket, open it and grab the gold band I picked from the jewelry store a couple of weeks back. I read the inscription one last time. You own my heart. His wedding ring, the one I was supposed to slip on his finger while we stood in front of the priest and our family, exchanging vows and promising to spend our lives together. Opening the coffin, I place it next to the urn where his mother placed his ashes.

  “How do I continue?” I clutch my hand to my mouth holding the tears at bay. “We had plans. So many of them . . . you left me.”

  God brought him back from his mission. A fucking drunk driver and a bunch of inept doctors kil
led him soon after. At that moment, my entire world collapsed. The light disappeared and the pain grasped into my heart.

  “Why Michael and not the other guy?” I hug the coffin, resting my head on top of it. Fat, big tears sear my skin as they roll down my cheeks. “Please, don’t leave me, baby. We have plans. I should’ve told you how much I love you. How proud I am of you, begged you to stay. I wanted to be selfish, ask you to choose me over your career. No matter how it happened, you died a hero.”

  I repeat our last words. I was so annoyed at him. “Mike, call me later I have a class in five minutes.”

  “I’m on my way to you, I only wanted to hear your voice one more time. I love it.” His husky voice made my body vibrate. “I love you, Aspen.”

  “You’re a silly man, Michael Reynolds. Record my voice so you can hear it when I’m not available. I love you too.” I hung up, he called, and I sent him to voicemail.

  The next day his mother called Scarlett. Michael died. My last words were selfish and stupid . . . If I could reach him, I would talk for hours about our love and our future. I would send him a chain of emails each one with the same sentiment. Letters with . . .”I would tell you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. Beg you to stay for the night, and wait for my call. Ask you to marry me.”

  “It boils down to don’t leave me, I need you.” The grief surges with every exhale. “I’ll miss those crystal blue eyes, your wholesome laughter, and your beautiful heart.”

  The emptiness inside my heart expands. Nothingness threatening to take my soul, leaving me lifeless. “Make the pain disappear,” I sob.

  “Aspen,” Dad touches my shoulder. Wrapping an arm around me, he pulls me toward him. Gently rubbing my back, he whispers, “it’s time for the service. Come with me. This will pass.”

  Those words unhinge me. Tears burst out, and my chin trembles. Pain forms in the pit of my stomach, coming out like an uproar from my throat.

  “When will it stop hurting?” I kiss the coffin caressing it one last time.

  “In time, sweetie,” Dad responds hugging me tightly. “Time will heal your heart. I’m so sorry you lost him. He was a good man.”