After witnessing Nick’s fear and angst, seeing the deal he’d negotiated to help her, and hearing about the numerous songs he’d written, she could no longer believe his devotion all these years was rooted in anything but pure, pull-on-her-heartstrings love.
“That was a nice try at changing the subject.” Sam planted her fists on her hips. “Now how about that CD?”
“Yeah, Dad. Are you ashamed of your music?”
“No.” His face turned slightly pink. “It’s a little embarrassing. How would you like me reading your diary?”
“That’s why I don’t have one,” Dani countered.
“You know, Nick, the main problem in our marriage was you never told me how you felt.”
“What do you mean? I said I love you all the time.”
“Right. An off-handed ‘luv ya’ on your way out the door or when you turned off the light at night. I knew you cared about me from the time I was a little girl, but I was never sure if you were in love with me....until tonight, when Ryan spilled the beans about all the songs you’ve written about me.”
“Don’t think I’m not annoyed with him for that.”
“Obviously you don’t have any problem expressing your feelings for me in your music.”
“Look, the sun is going to be up soon. Don’t you think we should get a little sleep?”
“No, way!” Dani stamped her foot. “I want to hear them, too. Right now.”
“You’re sick, and you need—”
“I feel a lot better.” The pain reliever Adam had ordered had evidently reduced the child’s fever and eased her sore throat. “At least play us that Two A.M. Love Song. Ryan says that’s the one Mom and I should hear.”
Nick heaved an exasperated huff. “Fine. The CD’s in my guitar case in the family room.”
Dani dashed down the hall and returned to the living room with the jewel case before Sam finished ejecting the romantic mix CD Nick had played during their dinner.
“One song,” Nick said, raising his index finger, “and then we all go to bed.”
“The Two A.M. Love Song,” Dani specified.
He placed the disc in the player and selected the track. Sam sank onto the sofa as the soft strains of Nick’s guitar filled the air, followed by his haunting baritone.
Two A.M., alone I’m waiting for my absolute favorite time,
To reminisce about that special night and how I made you mine
You came to me for comfort, untouched and so unsure
I thought I must be dreaming when you whispered, ‘I’m all yours’
Two A.M., two A.M., it’s the hour we made our child
Is the memory just as precious to you, even though it’s been a while?
Soft and sweet, you shared yourself with me and completely stole my heart
Proving we were meant to be together right from the start
“Remember, Danita,” Nick interjected over the music, “your mom was almost eighteen before we slept together.”
“Shhh!” Dani and Sam both glared at him.
He sank next to Sam on the couch and watched her while she continued listening.
At two A.M. I felt my unborn baby moving inside of you
I fell in love, right then and there, long before her big debut
The miracle we made that night, what a wonderful surprise
Your sweet dimples and rosebud smile, paired with my dark hair and eyes
“Oh, Daddy!” Dani blubbered, throwing herself into Nick’s arms. Sam’s eyes misted as he rocked their daughter, who was no longer a baby, and kissed her.
“I’ve missed your huggles so much,” he whispered, borrowing Dani’s amalgamated term for hugs and snuggles.
Two A.M. was our time alone when I held the two of you
While our daughter nursed at your breast, and I sang till she was through
Somehow things went wrong between us, and I know that I’m to blame
But despite how much I love you both, I’ve lost you all the same
As an instrumental bridge changed the music to a slower tempo, Sam’s throat grew progressively tighter until the floodgate on her emotions sprang open and tears streamed down her face.
“Oh, mi amore, don’t you cry, too.” Nick dried her cheeks with his hand and recited the closing lyrics in the same hushed voice as on the CD.
It was two A.M. when we last made love, before we veered so far off track
Those sweet memories will never be enough....
Please, God, I need my family back
When the music faded, he reached for the remote on the coffee table and switched off the stereo.
“That was beautiful, Daddy. Wasn’t it Mom?”
Too choked up to speak, Sam could only nod. The poignant song had touched her to the core, but it had also infuriated her.
All these years, her husband had been madly, passionately in love with her and had disguised the depth of his feelings with multiple orgasms and climbing the corporate ladder so he could fulfill his duty as an honorable man. He’d played the part of a testosterone-driven autocrat who had it all together when, in reality, he was a sensitive, giving man who was afraid of letting her down—the woman he apparently loved with his entire being.
“I think it’s time for us to get some sleep,” Nick said. “You can listen to the rest of the CD tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.” Dani scooted off his lap and planted a kiss on each of their cheeks.
After their daughter climbed the stairs, Sam wandered into the dining room and surveyed the chaotic state of the table. Despite her great fatigue, she would never fall asleep after the evening’s emotional turmoil. She picked up their dirty plates and silverware and carried them into the kitchen.
“Sammy, leave that until tomorrow and come to bed.” Nick took the dishes from her and placed them in the sink.
“I might as well do it now. I won’t be able to sleep anyway.”
As she strode back toward the dining room, he followed her. “Why? If you’re still mad about our argument earlier, forget about it. I want us to have another baby.”
She froze for a split-second, spun around, and stared at him. “Where did this sudden change of heart come from?”
“I thought about your willingness to give your life for Dani, and I realized, if it were at all possible, I would die to save her, too. So while I’d willingly give my life, I denied you the right to make the same choice….all because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as if attempting to stop his surplus emotions. “When Dani first got sick, I spent every night scouring the Internet, searching for some way to help her. And I couldn’t.”
And here she’d thought he’d simply been killing time rather than spending his evenings with her.
“Tonight it hit me how right you are about me trying to control everything and calling all the shots. Chase suggested I might have a touch of PTSD that’s making me phobic about getting you pregnant. It should be your decision if you want to risk having another baby. I can’t take that choice away from you.”
“Okay. Thank you.” His sudden reversal left her in a daze as she picked up the empty wine glasses from the table.
“So then let’s go upstairs and make sure we—”
“I can’t right now.” She looked away from him.
“You aren’t still mad at me, are you?”
She spun and faced him. “Yes, Nick. I know it seems unreasonable, seeing as you’re offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. But I’ve never been more furious with you than I am right now.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve never trusted me enough to share your true self with me. All the years we were married, I lived with an imposter.”
“That’s ridiculous. I was the same guy back then as I am now.”
“If that’s the case,”—she released a soft cynical snort—“then we don’t have a prayer in Hades for making it together. And if you can’t see wh
y, it proves our relationship is doomed.”
“How about you simply explain what you mean and save the sarcasm?”
“Okay,” she agreed, curbing her snide attitude. For once, Nick seemed to be making a real effort to get to the root of their problems. She couldn’t afford to louse this up. “First, I need you to answer one question.”
“All right. Shoot.”
“What’s going to be different this time, Nick? The very definition of stupidity is repeatedly making the same mistakes and expecting a different outcome.”
“I’ve already agreed to try to get you pregnant. What else do you need to be different?”
“You! I can’t live with a fraud. The man I married tried to make me believe he was never afraid and had everything under control. All along, you were as scared I was.”
“Sammy, do you think I’m proud of that?”
“Do you believe I’ll love you any less if I know you’re as vulnerable as I am? When I found out you were so devastated over Michael’s death you considered killing yourself, even for an instant, I felt like you’d punched me in the stomach.”
He stared at her, shaking his head. “It wasn’t losing our son that made me think about ending it all. It was the prospect of living without you. Was I supposed to advertise what a coward I am?”
“You’re human. Do you have any concept of how alone and abandoned I felt, mourning our son by myself? Don’t you understand how much my arms ached to hold our baby? I needed to know you were just as heartbroken.”
“I was. My arms were empty, too. And they still are.” He dragged her into his embrace and held her tight. “I had to keep it together. I knew how hard Michael’s death was for you, and I didn’t believe you could handle comforting me. If I’d let myself continue to cry, I wouldn’t have been much good at work. Who would’ve supported you and Dani?”
“I needed to be held more than I needed the bills paid. Sometimes it helps to know I’m not the only one who’s scared or in pain. When you don’t communicate with me, I feel totally alone.”
“I was just trying to take care of you.”
“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I might need to take care of you, too?”
“You do take care of me.” He drew back and caressed her cheek. “Every time you hold me, you inspire and encourage me. Without you, mi corazón, I would’ve been a bum.”
“That’s what I need to be different between us. I need to hear that and all of the other things you put in your songs. For fifteen years, I believed you only married me because you got me pregnant.”
“I thought you only agreed for the same reason.”
“Exactly. If we had communicated better with each other, we could have avoided so much uncertainty in our relationship. I need you to trust me enough to talk to me.”
His mouth curved in a tender smile. “I think I can manage that.”
“Then tell me what mi corazón means. You said it after we made love tonight, too. You’ve never used that word to me before.”
“My heart.” He placed her hand over the center of his chest. “You’ve owned it ever since you kicked me in the shin for teasing you. You’re my life, Sammy-Bee. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. The thought of living without you—”
“Oh, Nicky,” she sobbed, “knowing you love me is all I’ve ever wanted.” She buried her face in his neck. “I just need you to talk to me and consult me before you make decisions that affect me.”
While she composed herself, he held her silently for several moments as if he was assimilating all she’d said.
“All I can promise is to try,” he eventually whispered.
Was it possible he’d really heard her for once and understood?
“Strangely enough,”—he chuckled softly—“telling you how terrified I’ve been has made everything seem a lot less scary. How about I make you my personal Worry Pal? I’ll tell you all my concerns whenever I hold you.”
If he could do that, their relationship deserved a second chance.
“I’d like that. But only if you let me hold you back.” All at once, her body reminded her of her exhaustion. “You’ll be happy to hear those extra pounds I’ve gained have made me softer and cuddlier than any of my stuffed critters.” She snuggled closer and yawned. “So I’m especially nice to sleep with.”
“I can vouch for that.” He scooped her up and carried her toward the front staircase.
“My only problem, now, is how to tell Adam I’m still in love with you.”
“I think he already knows that, querida. But if he doesn’t, he will when he gets an invitation to our second wedding.”
“Wait just a minute.” She jerked his face toward hers and smiled. “Was that supposed to be a proposal of marriage? What happened to you consulting me from now on before you decide our future?”
“I’m sorry.” His powerful arms tightened around her as he climbed the steps. “Old habits die hard.” He brushed her forehead with a kiss. “Will you remarry me, mi amor?”
“Of course, I will.” She cuddled back into Nick’s chest as he continued up the stairs. “And since we couldn’t afford it the first time around, I think I’d like a really big wedding this time with a white dress and bridesmaids.”
“Anything you want, querida.”
“If that’s the case,” she said as he reached the upstairs hallway, “Would you ask Adam to be one of your groomsmen?”
“Why? You think being in our wedding party will be a consolation to him? You know, he wasn’t really in love with you.”
“How would you know?”
“Because if he truly loved you,” Nick explained, carrying her into the bedroom, “he would’ve fought a lot harder for you.”
That was probably true. “Still, it would be a nice gesture. For his sake, I hope he finds the woman who’s meant for him soon.”
“So do I, because you’re mine,” he whispered as he laid her on the mattress and stripped his polo shirt over his head, “and I’m keeping you for the rest of my life.”
“Or the rest of mine.”
“Oh, no, Sammy.” He crawled over her on the bed. “You’re not allowed to leave me alone in this world.”
“I have no control over that.” She cupped his cheek in her palm. “But I can promise to love you even after I’m gone.”
“I guess I’ll have to settle for whatever I can get.” He smiled down at her. “Because one day with you in my arms is better than an eternity without you.”
EPILOGUE
Not quite four years later....
“How many clothes does one girl need for a semester?” Nick hoisted the third bulging suitcase into the back of his Lincoln Navigator. “I know it’s been a while, but I think the standard uniform for college students is still a pair of ratty blue jeans and a T-shirt.”
Caught in an emotional tug of war between joy and sadness, Samantha chose to chuckle at her husband rather than cry over how much she was going to miss their daughter. “She’ll figure that out soon enough. Right now, Dani thinks she needs everything she owns.”
“I wanna go wiv Dani.” Christian boosted his chubby three-year-old body onto one of his sister’s boxes, attempting to climb into the back of the vehicle with the rest of her belongings.
“Oh, no you don’t, Sport.” Nick rescued their son, who hung precariously from the back bumper, and stroked his light brown hair. “You have to stay here with Mommy and Daddy.” He smiled at Sam. “At least if Dani takes almost everything with her, I’ll have less to move to the third floor suite so we can redecorate her old room for Chris.”
“Stop. You’ll start me bawling again.”
It was bad enough their daughter was heading off to college, but having her baby boy also outgrow his crib and the little yellow ducks in the nursery that had once served as Sam’s workroom simply exacerbated her empty-nest feelings. The only upside was their son now wanted his big-boy room decorated in a Magic Worry Pal motif, the cost of which would land partially back in th
eir pockets. Of course, the expense really didn’t matter. These days, even Dani’s forty-grand-a-year college tuition was only a minor blip on their financial radar.
Sam’s share of the hundreds of millions of dollars her critters earned in domestic and international sales had shoved them and a lot of the neighborhood into an upper income tax bracket. However, the really serious money came from her portion of the dozens of merchandizing deals that Keith Hanson had generated for Steve’s animated version of the stuffed toys.
Nick’s foresight in negotiating a contract that paid her a generous share of all revenue generated by the Magic Worry Pals trademark had allowed her to turn her husband into a kept man. Two years ago, he’d retired from Swann’s and accepted a seat on the department store’s board of directors, which allowed him to compose nearly full-time.
The on-line videos Bethany and Cindy had posted of Ryan’s band four years ago had gone viral to the extreme, and at the same time had given the two young women street-credentials that, with Tim’s guidance and partnership, gave birth to a lucrative production company creating advertising videos for the Internet.
Ryan’s mother, Mary, still had some minor residual motor impairment, but she’d recovered ninety-five percent of her abilities. Under Mary and Nick’s joint management, RTMF Express had topped the Billboard with Nick’s songs and received several Grammy nominations—with Two a.m. actually winning the coveted award.
He tipped Sam’s chin up and kissed her. “The University of Pennsylvania is less than an hour away, mi amore. Dani will be home every other weekend.”
“Which means we’ll only see her four days a month.” And even though Dani and Ryan had agreed to date other people for the time being, Sam knew her daughter would coordinate with him to make sure her visits home coincided with any hiatuses between Ryan’s concert tours, so Sam would be sharing Dani’s attention with him.
The Great Bedroom War Page 26