Mistake

by K. Webster

  My mother’s eyes widen as she sees my father for the first time in a long time.

  “You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you, Yolanda. What happened to your heart? What made you shut your children out?” He whispers his questions softly—clearly wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt. He still loves her, even after all these years.

  “Martin.” Momma murmurs his name and it is thick with emotion as she greedily devours the appearance of my father.

  He leans down and kisses the top of my head. When he reaches for her, she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans toward him, which confuses me. I’ve never seen anything but regret and annoyance flow through her veins. Seeing her draw closer to him as if he’s a magnet is baffling.

  “I’ve missed you, Yo-Yo.”

  Yo-Yo?

  A sob escapes her.

  Her voice is shaky when she speaks. “She has your eyes, Marty. Every time I look at her, I see you. Your eyes, through her, begged me to find you—to love you. I’m so sorry.” Her apology is directed at me. “And Olive. For years, she asked about you. Years. It was too much. My heart was broken, completely and utterly broken. I’m so sorry.” This time, it’s directed at him.

  “Grandpa? Who is this?” Abby’s chipmunk voice warms my soul.

  The moment I reintroduced Olive to Martin, Abby took to calling him her grandpa. It stuck and nobody ever corrected her. He chuckles and sends her a loving glance.

  One day, a long time ago, my father made a mistake. He made the mistake of falling for my mother and Olive. But it was a mistake he saw as a blessing.

  And as I look at the way my mother looks at him—as if he hung the moon—I suddenly have hope. The guilt in her eyes is visible as tears fill them. And when they flit up to mine, I see it—the regret. Regret of how she’s been our entire lives. Sad thing is, I’ve seen the look before. I just didn’t understand it. My mother’s heart bled for someone our entire lives. Olive and I were a constant reminder—I was especially. We were the reminder of the biggest mistake of her life.

  That mistake wasn’t me.

  I finally see that.

  Her mistake was leaving. She broke her own heart.

  “That’s your Grandma Yo-Yo,” Dad smiles down at her. He’s the glue. He’s always been the glue.

  “I love yo-yos, Grandma. So that means I love you!” Abby informs her with a squeal. That Abby will melt anyone’s heart—even the heart of an ice queen.

  Momma sobs loudly when Abby wraps her tiny arms around her waist.

  “I told you that you’d love her,” Olive says knowingly to our mother as she comes to stand beside me.

  My mother just nods. She knows. Life will never be the same for her again.

  “I’m so sorry, girls.” Her arms open, and so does my heart.

  Olive and I don’t walk. We don’t hesitate—we run into her arms. The three of us sob as she begs us for our forgiveness.

  She made a mistake. We all make them. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her new mantra. Over and over.

  I feel the comforting arms of my father as he hugs the three of us to him. Large, protective arms. The arms of a father. Our glue.

  “Why don’t you guys go on to Evette’s? We’ll be by later. Your mother and I need to catch up. Alone.”

  Olive and I giggle as we pull away. We know what sort of catching up they’ll be doing. The very idea of my father and mother kissing, among other things, should be disturbing, but it’s not. I crave their happiness just as much as I do my own. After almost twenty-three years, we can finally be a family.

  No more mistakes. Only happiness.

  “I’m proud of you.” Thad smiles and kisses the top of my head as we walk in the front door. Ever since the first night we came over to Thad and Trent’s parents’ for dinner with my dad, he shook things up. He called Evette out on her formalities.

  “Why are we knocking?” Dad asks as we stand at Evette’s front door.

  My palms are sweaty with nerves. Tonight is the first night I’ve seen her since she accused me of trying to wreck her family in the bathroom of the benefit. I’m anxious but feel protected from her wicked ways between my father and Thad.

  “She’s very formal,” Thad finally answers. He’s embarrassed. All he’s ever wanted is for acceptance from his mother. The night we reunited at the benefit, he packed his bags and has been staying with me until the place he’s looking at pans out.

  “Formal? This is insane.” Dad reaches for the knob and walks right on in without waiting for an answer.

  Thad and I eye each other widely.

  “Evette,” Dad booms once we walk into the entryway.

  It still freaks me out that he talks to her so boldly. But, after having been partners and friends for decades, I guess he’s earned that right.

  “Martin, so good to see you,” she purrs in her familiar tone.

  He ignores her greeting and cuts straight to the chase. “Family is always welcome, Evette. My mother always had her door open for me. That’s what a parent does for their child—they take care of them. Always.”

  Walking past her, he makes his way into the parlor to shake hands with TS. Thad and I stare at Dr. Sutton in shock.

  Her mouth opens and closes a few times. Finally, she speaks. “Thaddeus, you have a key. Use it next time.”

  That woman is a bitch. But that is progress. Thad and I exchange a hopeful glance. My dad is special.

  God, I love him.

  He turns the knob and we walk inside. Trent left graduation before we did, so he’s already standing in the entryway when we get there. Olive and Bray took Abby home since it was getting late.

  “Congrats, Opal. You did well,” he beams and hands me a bouquet of lilies.

  Thad’s hand finds mine and squeezes it possessively. Even though he knows that Trent is not a threat to our relationship, he still has some deep-seated, manly instinct to protect me. It secretly turns me on that, at a moment’s notice, he’ll toss me over his shoulder ‘caveman style’ and fuck me into tomorrow just to stake his claim.

  “Thanks, Trent. These are beautiful,” I grin as we follow him into the parlor.

  TS sits in his usual spot, his iPad in his lap. Trent sits beside him and they start chatting animatedly about some trending mutual funds.

  “Opal. Thad.” Dr. Sutton’s smile is strained, but she appears to be trying. “Marie is almost finished with dessert. Here. Let me cut the ends off those and put them in some water.”

  I hand her the flowers and watch her hurry from the room. Her demeanor changed the moment Dad made her apologize to me. I can see that she knows that what she did was wrong—even if she’ll never admit it. She’s still incredibly uncomfortable in my presence.

  When we hear the front door open, I smile. Dad and Momma must be here to join us. I guess old-people make-out sessions don’t last long. When my dad steps into the doorway of the parlor, I start toward him in greeting.

  And then my smile falls and my feet freeze.

  The tall, solid, black man standing in the parlor doorway is not my father.

  Drake.

  By the time Thad realizes who it is, Drake already has a gun raised and trained on me. “Don’t move or she’s taking a bullet to the head, motherfucker.”

  My eyes fly to Trent and TS. Both men have tensed but are frozen in fear. One wrong move and Drake will paint Dr. Sutton’s perfect home with my blood.

  How is this even happening? How is my happy ending going to end up as a nightmare?

  “Drake,” I whimper.

  His finger tightens around the trigger, but he doesn’t squeeze. Yet.

  “Four years, Opal. You put me away for four years. Did you really think I wouldn’t come back for you? For your sister? For my little girl?” he snarls.

  My heart flares to life. I remember Olive telling me that he assumed Abby was his child even though they hadn’t even been together when she and Bray had concei
ved her. The man is fucking delusional.

  Thad slowly moves me behind him. “Just leave, man. Opal didn’t do anything to you.” His voice is a growl, low and menacing.

  “Fuck you! Of course she did something—she did everything! She took away my freedom just like I took her virginity. Don’t think I won’t plow through you to get to her. I’ve got plenty of bullets, asshole. I’m taking her with me. We have catching up to do,” he grumbles suggestively as his eyes skim down my bare legs, which are peeking out from under my dress.

  My mind is back in the apartment. The memories of him taking me, hurting me, beating the shit out of me. A horrified sob bursts from my throat.

  “Over my dead body!” Thad snaps loudly.

  Drake laughs like a lunatic. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  I’m frozen. Things play out in slow motion. My screams. Thad’s preparing to shove me out of the way. TS and Trent rising from the couch.

  And her.

  The glint.

  The scissors.

  The blood.

  I blink in shock and horror as Drake’s blood spurts out of the side of his neck. His gun falls first and then, wide-eyed, he crumples to the floor. He tries desperately to hold his neck together, but his efforts are futile. The main artery of his neck has been severed. The artery only a doctor could pierce with perfect aim and precision.

  Nobody moves to save him. We just watch him die.

  When his body stops twitching and the puddle of blood stops growing, I look up at Dr. Sutton. She narrows her eyes at me, the bloody scissors remaining firmly in her grip at her side. Her gray bun is still flawless—not a hair out of place. Then her lips turn up into a smile that may haunt me in my dreams.

  “Nobody messes with my family. We’re Suttons and we take care of problems on our own.” She raises her bloody scissors and points toward the dining room. “The crème brûlée is getting cold.”

  Four months later

  “My place is ready to move in to. Are you going to miss me?” I tease Opal, who is sitting in the passenger’s seat of my new truck as we drive.

  After a discussion with Trent, he advised me to tap into my trust fund. He said that he’d made sure to keep it in high-paying investments while I had been refusing to use it. And because of my not ever touching it, I’d made myself a very pretty penny—a penny I’d have a hard time spending in this lifetime. With his advisement, I kept most invested but pulled out some for other things.

  “Why can’t you just stay with me? I hate this, Thad.”

  I grin broadly at her. But now, she frowns. I know she’s assuming the worst—assuming that I’m trying to put space between us.

  If she only knew. Quite the opposite.

  When I pull up to the first property I started flipping, the one she helped me with, she can’t hide the excitement. As soon as she eyes the “sold” sign, she squeals.

  “You bought it! This is fantastic!” she exclaims and nearly falls out of the truck in her hurry to get inside.

  Chuckling, I turn off the truck and follow her to the welcoming, red front door. She bounds up the three steps and stands in front of it. Then I admire her cute ass as she waits for me to join her. When I tuck the key into her back pocket, she giggles. But when she turns around to look at me, her demeanor changes.

  Shocked, happy tears roll down her cheeks.

  On one knee at the bottom of the steps, I look up at her with a lopsided grin. “Opal Elaine Redding, you can’t go into that house. Not yet.”

  Her eyes widen and her hand flies to her mouth when I pull out the black velvet ring box.

  “I love you, O. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I loved you the second I laid eyes on you that first night. You’ve been nothing but a positive, loving force in my life. Please do me the honor of marrying me. This house is ours. Our future together—if you’ll have me.”

  She leaps down the steps and tackles me backwards. I fall onto my ass as she straddles me, raining fervent kisses all over my face. They’re perfect—she’s perfect.

  “Yes, Thad! You’re my person. I knew it the second I saw you. I love you too.”

  Her lips are on mine, and we are tasting each other like it’s the first time. Every time is new and addicting for us.

  “You’re my person too, O. Always.”

  The house is fully furnished. Every single item, Opal had a hand in choosing—even down to the big, plush down comforter we’re now lying on in our bed.

  “How long will it take to christen every single room in this house?” she asks with sly grin.

  It’s only been a few minutes since we made love and my cock is already hard again—eager to be inside her.

  “Eight hours tops,” I tease and peck her lips.

  She sighs, and I watch her gaze skitter around the room as she admires our handiwork. “If only my eight-hour workday was that fun…” her voice trails off.

  I know that, ever since she took the position in the payroll department at Compton Enterprises, she’s been unhappy. She told me that, each day, she actually watches the clock on the wall slowly tick by.

  Rolling off her, I climb from the bed and saunter over to my jeans, which are in a heap on the floor. After I retrieve my wallet, I look at her with a wicked grin. She knows what it means when I get my wallet. I wink at her as I slide out a condom and toss it at her. But as she tears the wrapper, I also take out something I know she’ll appreciate.

  “This is yours if you want it,” I tell her as I walk back over to her.

  She eyes my hand with interest. When I open my palms, she hesitantly takes the business card from my hand.

  “What is this?” she gasps. Her voice has an excited edge to it. She’s hopeful.

  I take her hand and dip down to a knee in front of her. Then I softly kiss the top of her hand. “It’s your happy ever after, my queen.”

  She pulls me up to her onto the bed and I pounce on her, nipping the flesh on her neck as I cover her body with mine. We skip the condom this time, and I enter her quickly.

  “You’re my happy ever after, Thad.”

  I’m her favorite mistake.

  It actually takes us a day and a half to properly christen the house—some rooms we had to do it in several times, just to make sure. The best thing about a happily ever after is…

  It is never THE END.

  Crushed—A Novella

  More from Andi and Jackson coming soon….

  Jackson

  My wife is dying.

  With every breath she takes, every second that passes, she dies a little more. I can hardly stand to watch it. I’m not callous or unloving—quite the opposite, actually. I love her so much that I want to kick the fucking machine that the doctor is using to assess her because I can’t stand seeing her this way. I want to storm from this room and punch anyone who even looks at me the wrong way in the teeth because they don’t understand how it feels to slowly lose the one they love.

  And I am losing her.

  Little by little.

  Life just isn’t fair.

  As if clued in to my melancholy thoughts, she squeezes my hand from the bed. I glance briefly at the monitor and then my eyes land on hers. They’re the saddest fucking eyes on the planet, and they gut me.

  I can’t fucking do this anymore.

  “I need a drink of water,” I grumble under my breath to her. I’ll do anything to get out of this room.

  “Jackson, don’t be nervous. Just sit tight. Everything will be okay, babe.” Her words are soft and reassuring.

  Why the fuck is she reassuring me? What kind of asshole am I? I’m the one who needs to take my fucking panties off and be a man, to reassure my wife—not the other way around.

  I lean down and kiss her forehead. I can’t lose her. I just can’t.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is nearly inaudible. But my Andi hears—she always hears.

  The doctor clears his throat and he smiles at me—fucking smiles. Maybe I should throttle his ass. After all, he’s an accomp
lice in this slow death of hers. My free hand clenches into a fist.

  She squeezes my hand once again and my anger melts a bit. With a sigh, I dip down and press a kiss to her soft lips. Why can’t I just fix it? All of it?

  “You see it? Right there?” the doctor asks with a gentle smile.

  Andi’s eyes fill with tears and her hand is shaking in mine. When she turns to look at me, I’m almost torn in two by her expression.

  The hope in her eyes fucking cuts me to my core.

  “Three?” she chokes out on a sob.

  Does God really answer prayers? Right now, he’s taunting me, ignoring my pleas.

  “Yep, three. Congratulations, Mrs. Compton. You’re pregnant.”

  The excited chatter of my wife is muted as the room spins around me. Where Andi has hope, dread fills every ounce of my being. In that single moment in the doctor’s office, I know.

  I know without a shadow of a doubt.

  This pregnancy will kill my wife.

  A sneak peek into Trent’s story—coming soon in 2015!

  Trent

  I stare at the piece of paper in my hand that mocks me.

  This sort of thing just doesn’t happen to people like me. I’m the Golden Child. The man with no speeding tickets and zero cavities at every dentist visit. I help old ladies cross the street. People call on me to help them out of financial trouble.

  I’m good. The best, even.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean back in my office chair.

  What will my mother think?

  Just imagining making that phone call sends panic through my veins.

  I peek my eyes open and glance back down at the document—the very official document.

  Cassidy.

  My attorney, Calvin, faxed over this birth certificate on his way out of the office. He should be here soon to discuss it. But for the past twenty minutes, I’ve been staring at it. There has to be some mistake.

  I’m not a father. Not the father of some almost four-year-old little boy. It’s impossible.

  You had unprotected sex that one night—the night before you proposed—the night before she turned you down.