Forgiven (This)

by J. B. McGee

  “Gotcha. So what do we do about this two car situation?” I inquire.

  “I wanted us to look at a house in Château Élan. It’s a gorgous place, and it’s on your way back into the city. Do you want to meet me there?”

  “Château Élan, huh.” I pass it every day. Granted, that means I’ve only passed it a few times now, but it’s visible from I-85. To say it’s impressive is an understatement. The only thing I can compare it to is The Biltmore Estate. Château Élan’s mansion isn’t as large as the Biltmore’s. Both have vineyards.

  “Yeah, it’s gated. I think I want us in a gated community.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do. I don’t want people showing up unannounced anymore, ever again.”

  Relief unexpectedly floods my body. “I didn’t like the thought of gated two seconds ago, but when you put it like that, I’m all for gated.” The very thought of Ian and Veronica never being able to just pop up into our lives again, at least while we’re in our home, is definitely soothing.

  “So we’re going to meet there at four pm?”

  “Yes. We’ll get dinner afterwards then come home.”

  “Sounds great. I’m almost here. I better go. Hope you have a good day.”

  “It will only be good when I get to see your face.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “Such a charmer.”

  “It’s the truth. Love you, Gabby Girl.”

  “Love you,” I reply as I end the call and toss my phone down. It’s amazing how talking to him can change my mood so quickly.

  As I sat through my history class, bored out of my mind, I tried not to daydream. Once class was over, I couldn’t wait to get in my car to meet him. Concentrating has been hard today. The anticipation of looking for our new home has been the only thing I’ve been able to really think about. It makes me sad in a way. I know I’m behind. I don’t want to need a tutor. But I can’t even pay attention in class half the time. It’s very unlike me.

  Part of me wishes I had gone ahead and withdrawn from the semester after Christmas break when I requested my transfer. I could have moved to Atlanta while I waited. If I had not been able to transfer for the spring semester, I could have used that time to plan the wedding.

  Now, just thinking about everything I have to do makes me overwhelmed. We’re officially moving me to Atlanta this weekend. It’s all bittersweet. I'll be even farther away from my sister, my only real family. I know Sam is considering transferring to Emory at the end of the semester, which makes me hopeful I won’t be sacrificing precious time with her. But the end of the semester is still a long way away. I still have hope it will all work out for the best.

  Then there’s the wedding. We’ve yet to set a date. He doesn’t believe me when I say I’d be content eloping, but I would be. I just want to be able to be with him in every way. The waiting is killing me, and I worry that his patience is running out. He says it's not, but I've been there and done that before with Ian.

  Ugh at Ian entering my thoughts again. He seems to be on my mind far too frequently. It infuriates me that he's found yet another way to hurt me. It's hard for my brain to believe that all of the things he said to me in my apartment were lies. While this weekend seems so long ago, the hurt is still so raw. I wasn't happy to see him at first. I was definitely suspicious, but I have realized that I really wanted to believe him. Worst of all, I enjoyed his company to some extent. That makes me feel so guilty.

  Shaking my head, I remind myself that I need to prepare myself for the possibility, even though it sickens me, that it’s his; that the baby is Bradley’s. We have no proof that Ian and Veronica were scheming behind our backs. Stop it Gabby. Don't go there. I swallow the doubt that is creeping into my mind. I trust Bradley. I have to believe that he's right, and that this is all going to be okay.

  All of this makes me kick myself. Because I know that if I had taken time off from school, at the very least, we would have had more time to settle into this new life together. We could have ridden together because I wouldn’t have been all the way in Gainesville, which is where Brenau is located. I sigh. The timing is absolute crap.

  The drive to Château Élan isn’t long. I realize he didn’t tell me which part of this mammoth community to go to, nor did he tell me how to get past the gates as I exit the interstate. As I reach for my phone, it rings.

  “Hey. Where am I supposed to be going?”

  “Yeah, it would have helped if I told you, right?”

  “Humph, ya think?”

  “Just turn into the main entrance as you come off the interstate on the left. We’ll just leave your car there.”

  “Okay. See you in a sec.”

  I end the call as I pulled into the entrance of one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in my life. The view from the interstate just doesn’t do it justice. The entrance has shrubs that are trimmed to read Château Élan, and there are colorful flowers surrounding the shrubs. The grounds are immaculately kept, and only compliment the incredible white mansion that I am driving towards. The vineyard spans for acres to the left. It’s hard to believe when you pull in that this paradise is in northeast Georgia, just a minute from a busy interstate.

  I glance around and spot Bradley’s car, not because it’s a nice car, but because he’s leaning up against the side with his arms and legs crossed. He’s watching me drive closer to him, and I see his lips curving into a smile. That look, that smile in front of this beautiful place is panty melting. I just want to run up to him and wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him. I don’t think I realize how much I miss him during the day until I am back with him. Then it’s times like these I wonder how we ever managed a long distance relationship for the time we did.

  I smile at him as I put the car into park and gather my things. He doesn’t move. He’s just standing there, watching me, waiting for me. As I am about to open the door, he reaches his arm out and does it for me. Such a gentleman.

  I can feel my face turning crimson when I look up into those deep blue eyes as I stretch my legs out of the driver’s seat. I hope he never stops having this effect on me.

  “Hey,” I say shyly. Why I’m being shy beats me, but he looks so good today. He’s come straight from work. I’m sure his jacket is laid nicely in the trunk of the car. He’s rolled the sleeves of his crisp white shirt up, showing his toned, tanned forearms. His teal tie is loose around his neck, and the color makes his eyes even more beautiful than they normally are. Then as if those things weren’t enough, the first couple of buttons of the shirt are undone. There’s something about his collarbone showing through that V that his shirt makes that causes my insides melt. Who am I kidding? Everything about him makes me melt.

  He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into an embrace. It’s unexpected and my body jerks quickly until it’s perfectly molded into his. He looks down at me, and I am so close that I have to arch my back and tilt my head to see him. He does that sexy, cute, throaty growl as he sucks on my bottom lip in a slow, sensual kiss. It amazes me how he can go from being a little rough to sweet so quickly. It makes my body a trembling mess. The thought of looking at homes is now the last thing on my mind.

  He pulls back, so slowly. I stand on my tip toes and try to hang on a little longer. I don’t know how we ever made it days without seeing each other. It’s all I can do to make it hours now. As I try to lengthen our kiss, his hands slide up my torso and rest on my shoulders, gently pushing me back. “We can’t make-out in front of Château Élan all night, you know?”

  I push my bottom lip out and scrunch my nose. “I know,” I pout.

  “There’s Maggie, our realtor, anyway. You ready?”

  I nod my head, “Uh huh. I guess I didn’t realize she was meeting us now.”

  “Yes, we’ll just leave our cars here. It’s gated, remember.”

  He brushes a stray piece of hair from my face. I lean into his touch and close my eyes. “Gated. Yes, I’m good with gated now.”

  �
��Ah, progress. What made you change your mind?”

  “You. You’re a good salesman. I agree with what you said. Don’t even want to say their names.”

  He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “C’mon, let’s go find us a new house.”

  The realtor, Maggie, looks to be about the same age as what my mother would have been. She’s a heavy-set lady with shoulder length blonde hair and green eyes. There seems to be a particular southern accent unique to Georgia. Bradley doesn’t really have an accent at all, but I recognize immediately that Maggie does as she gets out of her car, shaking Bradley’s hand first, then mine.

  “You must be Gabby. Nice to meet you. I’m Maggie.”

  I think because of my mother when I meet women her age, it fills me with a longing, a yearning. I can’t explain it, but I can already tell that I am going to really like Maggie. She seems so nurturing. I don’t typically feel sorry for myself. I don’t want pity from others, but when I see these women, I can’t help but wonder what if. I wonder what my mom would have been like, if she’d be proud of me, and if she would approve of my recent decisions. I wonder if she’d love Bradley as much as Sam does. I smile and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m Gabby. So nice to meet you, Maggie.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things, of course.” She releases my hand and opens the back door. “Because it’s a gated community, we’ll all need to ride in my vehicle.” She extends her arm for us to get into the backseat of the black Mercedes SUV. After Maggie gets into the driver’s seat and fastens her seat belt, she looks up through the rearview mirror at Bradley. “We’re going to go view your top three first.”

  Bradley pulls my hand into his and rubs my thumb as he responds, “Sounds good.”

  Maggie makes small talk while we drive the short distance to the first house. It’s still really surreal that this is my life. I never thought I’d be looking at homes in such an incredible neighborhood. I can’t force back the smile that I know is curving on my lips as we pass through the streets of Château Élan.

  Bradley leans into my side. He gently kisses the side of my head. “You’re awfully quiet, whatcha thinkin’?”

  I whip my head around and stare straight into those big, cobalt blue eyes rimmed in navy. It takes my breath away because it’s like I’m looking into my own soul. Our lips are so close that I can feel his breathing. I give him a quick peck so as to not totally disgust Maggie. “Lots of things. Thinking that I still can’t believe this is my life.”

  He turns his head slowly from side-to-side once so he rubs my nose. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it?” What does he mean by that?

  “Just seems like maybe something else is bothering you.”

  “No.” I glance back out of the window but quickly realize I can’t keep it from him. He can see straight through me. I don’t look back to him. I don’t want to start crying, and I certainly don’t want to talk about it. “I miss my mom,” I whisper.

  Sometimes silence means more than empty words filled with pity and regret. He squeezes my hand, and I know that is his way of saying that I’m not alone. That even though he doesn’t know what it feels like to be me, that because I hurt, he hurts. For the first time in my life, I find a great deal of comfort knowing that I don’t have to carry this burden all alone.

  I’ve been looking out of the window trying to find For Sale signs. I’ve almost made it a game. Wondering if the next house that comes into view might be the one we stop at, if it might be our future home. Finally, I see a beautiful, rich yellow two story home on a hill with a sign in front. There is a wrap-around front porch with arches in between each column. I haven’t even seen the inside of the house, but I can already tell this is it. It’s our house.

  I glance over to Bradley who is eying me. I wonder briefly how long he’s been watching me. His eyes are bright, playful. “What number is this on your top three?” I ask.

  “Number one.” He opens the door and pulls me out beside him, moving his arm behind my back. He looks straight ahead towards the house. “Do you like it?” He glances back to me with a dazzling smile.

  Somehow I think he already knows the answer. “Is it bad for me to make up my mind before I even walk inside?” I ponder out loud.

  “If that’s bad, then I guess we’re in trouble. This is the one I want, but I didn’t want to make that decision without you.”

  I smile as I wink at him. “Hmph, thank you Mr. in Control of Everything. I appreciate that.”

  He nods his head and narrows his eyes. “Partners. We’re partners now, Gabby Girl.”

  “I really do appreciate it. Why didn’t you show me the inside pictures?”

  “I wanted you to be able to see the inside for the first time in person. And I wanted to be able to see and hear you as it takes your breath away. I know it will.”

  “Well quit torturing me standing out here.” I giggle as I ineffectively try to pull his solid body up the hill towards the house. When I turned my head back to see why he’s planted into the ground like a stubborn horse, he pulls me into his arms. The force of my body falling into his causes me to gasp.

  He squints his eyes and smiles a sly smile. “Did you hear that?”

  I catch my breath. “Yeah.”

  “I love hearing you do that.” He leans down and sweetly kisses me. Then pulls away and leads me up the hill to the house.

  He’s right. When the door opens into the foyer, I make the same gasping noise I made at the bottom of the hill when he pulled me into him. I glance up to the chandelier in the foyer and around. The staircase is made of hardwoods and has wrought iron spindles. The dining room is adjacent and has this fancy gold thing on the ceiling that the chandelier is hanging from. It’s really breathtaking. I just stand there, not saying a word. I feel hands on my shoulders and then I’m quickly spun around.

  Bradley’s looking down at me grinning, and it’s contagious. “Just the reaction I expected from you.”

  “Oh yeah?” is all I can mutter.

  “Yeah. So do you like it as much as I do?”

  I glance back over my shoulder. “Do you forget what I come from? It wouldn’t take much to be a step up from what I’m used to.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to say you like it because you think it’s a step up or three steps up. I want to know you like it because of its charm.” He caresses my cheek, and his voice gets husky as he whispers, “I want to know this is where you can see yourself raising our six babies.”

  Shaking my head, I’m totally amazed at how he is able to have such an effect on me with just his words.

  “No?” He looks confused.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, that’s a no?” His lips curve into a sideways smile.

  I glance up through my lashes. I love it when we play these little games. He used to get so concerned, but now it’s like he knows when I get monosyllabic that it’s almost always a good thing. “I was shaking my head at the six comment, and the answer is yes to that question.”

  “You haven’t even seen the best parts.” He takes my hand and walks in front of me, pulling me through to the kitchen.

  “I don’t think you understand that it won’t matter where I am or what kind of house it is, just as long as we’re both in it.”

  He turns and looks at me with hooded eyes. “Oh, I do understand that because I feel the same way. But I don’t think you understand how badly I want to give you the world, Gabby Girl.”

  What is there to say to that? I just smile and look down at the beautiful hardwood floors beneath my feet. I am the absolute luckiest girl in the world. Someone pinch me now.

  The rest of the house is incredible. Maggie, who we probably grossed out a few minutes ago with our cheesy romantic talk, has been talking about all the features the home has like a typical sales person. She points out that there is a study on the main floor that Bradley could use as a home office. The kitchen is a dream kitchen, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. All
of my friends had these beautiful gourmet kitchens with stainless steel near commercial quality appliances and granite countertops. They all had beautiful custom cabinetry. I don’t care about all the specifics. If I can cook in the small kitchen in the apartment or the cottage in Charleston, then I can cook anywhere.

  The difference between this kitchen and those of my friends isn’t all the upgrades. It’s the thought of knowing it could be my kitchen. My mind flutters to thoughts of Bradley doing highly sexy things to me on those very countertops. It makes me blush to just think about it. I glance over at him, and I know that look on his face. I’m pretty sure he’s having those same exact thoughts at this moment. His thumb brushes up against the skin on my hand he’s holding. The slightest touch from him is like an electrifying shock through my body.

  We make our way upstairs. The master bedroom exceeds my wildest expectations. Not only is it ginormous, but it has a formal sitting area with a stacked stone fireplace. I close my eyes and immediately see us cuddled up on a couch, Bradley spooning me while I read. I don’t need to see another thing in this house. I can already tell it feels like home.

  “I want it,” I whisper as I tug his arm, causing him to glance back at me.

  “Oh, what’s that? I can’t ever hear you when you mumble like that.”

  I shyly whisper again, “I want it.” I love the house. It just feels weird to say this out-loud. It makes me feel like I must be some kind of greedy girl to want all this house, to want all this luxury. I’ve always prided myself on not needing or necessarily even wanting all of this. Who was I kidding? Who wouldn’t want this?

  Bradley’s eyes light up, and it takes me back to that day on the beach when I told him I’d go to dinner with him. It takes me back to the night at Steak and Shake when he nearly choked on his milkshake. All of our firsts flash before my eyes, and I realize this is one of them. We are about to make a home, a family, a life with each other. I can’t wait for all of the firsts that will be housed in this home.

  “Then, it’s yours, Baby. But you have to see the bathroom, just because it’s awesome.”