by Nikki Chase
Tessa pushes the blanket aside, making space for us to sit.
“Tessa,” I say, voice low and serious, “I need to know why you kept this from me.” Her eyes grow more alert, surprise flashing every now and then, as I explain how hurt I was by what she’d kept from me. “Honestly, I had to wonder what you actually thought about my character. I need to know if we can get through this, make things work.”
Tessa remains silent, but her lips quiver at my words. I lean forward and place my hand gently on top of hers, trying to soothe her.
“I still want to make this work, Tessa. Make us work,” I say. “I hadn’t planned to be a Dad, but I’m ready for a kid. And I want us to raise him—or her—together, as a family.”
She nods slightly, eyes watering as I speak, teeth stabbing her lower lip as she tries to stop the tears from falling.
Rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb, I continue, “But I need you to be honest with me from now on if this is going to work. We need to trust each other, to work together when things are good or bad. We can get through anything if we put our minds to it.”
Tessa has lost the war with her tears now; they’re running slowly down her pretty face, sparkling in the dim light reflected from a nearby lamp.
“I need you to tell me, to promise me that nothing like this is going to happen again. And I need you to tell me what you want, Tessa. Deep down, do you want to try and make this work? If your heart isn’t in it, then that’s okay, I’m prepared to accept that.”
My heart feels heavy at my words, but if she doesn’t want this, then there’s no point in trying.
Still, deep down I feel like she wants the same thing I do, but maybe her fears are holding her back, her fears about who I am.
I need to hear the words from her, though. To hear her tell me what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling about me.
Tessa brushes the back of her hand over her eyes, wiping away her tears. When she looks up at me, I see conflicted emotions crossing her features. She’s silent for a moment, eyes searching mine, seemingly taken aback by my words.
Is she trying to decide if I’m bullshitting her? What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Tessa? Open up to me. Tell me.
She looks like she’s about to burst with the obvious emotions simmering away under the surface. I long for her to speak, to let it out. I figure whatever it is, it’s best we talk about it, rather than holding it back. I know we can fix this. I just need her to tell me how.
She looks up into my eyes, her mouth open, looking unsure as to what to say. She looks around the room for a second before returning her eyes to mine. A hard gust of exhalation.
“It’s . . . it’s all those women, Luke,” She blurts out, a manic look in her eyes. “I’ve seen TMZ, the procession of bimbo models on your arm, you parading them around like trophies.”
I sit back, a little stunned, but decide to let her continue, to vent her frustrations.
“I’ve seen how it's a new woman almost every other week. How do you think that makes me feel? I just . . . I don’t want to come to depend on you, only for you to walk out on me when I need you.” Tessa pauses to wipe a tear from her face, eyes searching mine for a response.
“Tessa, listen to me. That was all in the past. Before I met you. And do you think those photographers or paparazzi care about the truth, anyway? Some of those pictures were months old, regurgitated just to make a quick buck.
“Those guys, they don’t know me. They make stories up about me, about my life. They try to make me look like playboy, that’s the image they try and push. But that’s not me.”
I squeeze her hand, my expression serious and genuine. I want her… need her to believe me.
“They don’t know me, Tessa,” I repeat like a mantra. “But you do. You know me. I’ve only ever been honest with you. I want you to know that. What’s happened in the past, that doesn’t matter anymore. I want this to be about me and you. Nothing else.”
She looks down at my hand on hers and turns it around so our palms are touching. She gives me a big squeeze before letting out a sob, bravely smiling through her tears.
I can’t take it anymore. I need to comfort her, stop that endless flow of tears from her eyes. Pulling her suddenly toward me in a tight embrace, I rub the small of her back and stroke her hair.
“I’m crazy about you, Tessa. I have been ever since I laid eyes on you in the casino bar in Vegas. I promise you nothing has changed since then. If anything, my feelings for you have deepened.” My voice is low and gentle, trying to comfort her as best I can with my words.
“I’m scared, Luke,” she manages to say through her tears, voice muffled, her face tight against the muscles of my chest. “I’m scared you’ll get bored and move on, like you did . . . like I thought you did, with all those models. I don’t want to be discarded so you can find a newer, prettier woman. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a model.”
A wry laugh escapes her lips between her sobbing, and I can’t help but smile. A sense of humor, at a moment like this. How can I not love this woman?
“You’re crazy if you don’t see how beautiful you are. And you’re crazy if you think I’d ever leave you.” I shake my head at her words.
I stroke her hair gently, distracted by her scent, her proximity. I want this drama to be over, to be happy with her. But I know I need to ease her fears.
“I didn’t want my baby to have an absent father,” Tessa continues. “I wanted him or her to have a role model, a strong character they could look up to. Not one who would leave at the first sign of trouble and abandon us.”
Her harsh words send shockwaves through me. She thought I’d do that?
But this—falling for someone—is terrifying. The scariest thing I’ve ever gone through. So maybe it’s perfectly natural that her mind has been running wild. The hormones coursing through her body probably haven’t helped too.
“So you were going to never let the child . . . our baby, have a father in the first place?” I ask. “I understand your fears, Tessa, but that doesn’t make much sense.”
“I don’t think I could take it if you left me, left us. I figured it was safer for me, for my emotions, to just . . . well, just to run away from it all.” Tessa has stopped crying but she’s shivering a little in my arms. I hold her close still, not wanting to end the embrace.
“That will never happen, Tessa. I want you, and only you. I need you. Now that you’re in my life, I can’t imagine being without you. I want us to raise our child together. I . . . I’ve always wanted what my parents have, the strong, lasting relationship. And I want it with you.”
She leans back, and I brush her hair, now wet and sticky with tears, from her face. As she looks up into my eyes, a flush fills her cheeks.
We sit in silence for a while, our eyes speaking everything that needs to be said, hope filling my chest and expanding until it’s a struggle to breathe.
Without any conscious effort, we inch closer and closer until I can feel her hot, sweet breath on my skin.
I lean forward slowly, bringing her mouth to meet mine, kissing her deeply on the lips, the touch passionate but tender.
Tessa sighs with pleasure as I taste her sweet lips and puts her hands on my shoulders, kissing me back with emotion.
“I love you, Tessa,” I say into her mouth as I rest my forehead against hers.
Pulling back just enough to fill my vision with her lovely face, I stare into her beautiful eyes. They widen at my words, then she smiles warmly up at me.
“I love you too, Luke,” she says softly before she lets herself melt into my arms.
A warmth spreads within me as we kiss and embrace, a contentment that I’ve never felt before.
A while later, we are lying in Tessa’s bed, exhausted from all the talking, although neither of us wants this moment following our reconciliation to end.
Tessa rests her head on my chest. Her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling contentedly. Her skin has warmed up
in my embrace.
I feel the stirring of sexual desire, but feel too exhausted and emotionally drained to act upon it. I figure she feels the same way, too.
Tessa seems to have finally come round to the fact that I didn’t ever intend to abandon her and our baby, and I’d be by her side, devoting my life to make her happy.
We lie there in comfortable silence for a long while, Tessa’s breathing deep and regular. I figure she’s fallen asleep and close my eyes, waves of exhaustion rolling over me.
She murmurs a few words, rousing herself from her doze. “Have you ever thought about baby names?”
“Hmmm . . . I haven’t really had the chance to.” I’m glad she’s still awake, and we talk again, voices low and gentle.
Truth be told, I’d been so caught up the situation, the anger and resentment, followed by my decision to try and get her back, that I hadn’t put any thought into it.
We bounce a few names off of each other as we lie there, eyes closed. Then Tessa stops responding, and I look down to see that she has truly fallen asleep this time. She’s still smiling, looking relaxed and content as she sleeps on my chest, one arm draped over my waist.
She twitches a little in her sleep, and I rub her arm. I hope she’s not having a bad dream. I brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
Happiness fills me to the point of almost bursting. I feel complete with Tessa beside me, almost like I’ve been absent a part of me up until now, and she’s the missing piece.
I start to drift off into sleep, exhaustion finally getting the better of me.
No matter what, I’ll never let go. She is mine. Forever.
Tessa
I wake up the next morning—and I have to check the date on my phone because it’s kind of hard to believe. We must have both been so physically and emotionally drained after everything that’s happened that we slept right through the afternoon and night.
Sun rays filter through my thin, cheap curtains, bathing my apartment with a soft, warm, surreal glow.
Was it all real, or just a dream? It kind of doesn’t seem real, but my imagination can’t possibly dream up this level of detail: Luke’s breaths tickling my skin, the blunt tips of the scruff lining his strong jaw, the weight of his arm around me.
It’s almost unbelievable that everything worked out so perfectly, that Luke was willing to forgive me, and that I could finally accept that I want to be with him.
I smile to myself and turn around gently, careful not to wake him. He’s still sleeping peacefully, perfectly at rest. He looks as happy and content as I feel.
I trace my fingers gently over the contours of his beautiful features. His strong nose, his full lips, his chiseled jawline with that perfect amount of stubble that drives me wild. I spend a few minutes just looking at him, admiring him, still not quite believing that he’s mine, truly mine, and that I don’t need to keep pretending to myself that I don’t care for him.
Because I do care for him. I love him, and I realize now that I have done for a long time. I was just too scared to admit it to myself.
My past has really screwed me up, and it nearly ruined this too. Losing Gio all those years ago has made me scared to commit, scared to let people in.
I guess, deep down, I’ve always been afraid that if I let myself get too close to someone, they might get taken away from me, just like he was.
But I finally feel like I can let all that go now. I can move on and let Luke into my life, into my heart.
We’ll build a future together, a family together, and I can forget about all that bullshit from my past. Events from our past shape us, but we don’t have to let them define us. Not everyone is a selfish narcissist like my parents were, and not everyone is going to be taken from me like Gio was.
It’s okay to just let go, to let your heart and your emotions guide you, and it’s okay to not know what’s going to happen in the future. Sometimes, you just need to let go and let the river of life’s events carry you. I understand that now, and I’m happy to go along for the ride.
Because Luke’s by my side, and I know he’ll be with me every step of the way. My heart soars with love for him, so hard that I think it might burst.
Under my watchful eyes, Luke wakes up slowly, emerging from his slumber in stages. A twitch of his nose, a yawn, and then finally his eyes flutter open.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says. “Now, that’s a sight I could get accustomed to seeing when I wake.” He stretches, his muscles bunching.
“I still can’t believe it wasn’t all a dream,” I say.
He grins. “Well, I know that I’m dreamy as hell, but I’m all real.” He pats his chest and winks at me. “See? You can touch for yourself if you want.”
And I do, marveling at his warm skin and hard muscles. He shivers a little as I run my hands down his chest, and pulls me in for a kiss. My heart swells with happiness again.
In the space of one day, I’ve gone from thinking I lost everything, to having it all once more. My job, my baby . . . and hey, the most eligible bachelor in the country wants to be with me. That’s got to count for something too, right?
He sits up, pushing me over onto my side and straddling me. I laugh and push back against him but he’s too strong.
“I honestly thought you were never going to come around,” he says. “You are the most stubborn, infuriating woman I’ve ever met. I even brought out the Maserati, and you still weren’t on board.”
I giggle, struggling against his hands. “I’m just glad you never gave up on me.”
“Never,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing me. “Not in a million years.”
He starts kissing his way down my body—little light flutters on my neck that make me instantly wet, then down, down, to my nipples, that he takes between his lips and nibbles ever so gently with his tongue.
I moan, struggling—he’s still got me pinned. But he’s too strong and I’m just going to have to let him have his way with me . . . which, honestly, doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.
He’s kissing my belly when my tummy rumbles, loudly, and I suddenly remember that I didn’t even eat anything the day before. He carries on, but then his stomach emits a gurgle too.
We both look each other in the eyes for a split second, the simultaneously crack up.
“You’re carrying my baby in there,” he says. “And I think he or she is telling us that we need to get some damn food in your belly.” He dips his head down to my belly. “You’re hungry, aren’t you, junior? Your mom hasn’t been taking good care of you. Well, don’t worry, Daddy’s here now and he’ll get you some food.”
We roll off the bed, laughing. His cheesy words to our baby send flutters spreading throughout my body.
“I don’t have anything to eat in my apartment,” I tell him.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
I lightly smack him on his arm, quietly relishing the feel of his hard muscles.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” he says. “Just my clothes from yesterday.”
I think for a moment. “There’s an awesome little cafe down the street. Great brunch. No dress code. I’ll wear something terrible so you won’t be the only bad dresser there.”
I pull on some sweats and run into the living room to grab a tie for my hair. As I wrangle my messy hair into submission, I find the annulment papers on the floor of my living room. I pick it up and stare at it.
It looks out of place, now that I won’t be needing it anymore. With a small smile of satisfaction, I tear it up into little pieces and dump it into the trash.
Back in my bedroom, Luke has put on his crumpled shirt and pants. He strikes a pose. “How do I look? Good enough for us not to get thrown out?”
I pretend to appraise him with a critical eye. “Crumpled shirts are a bit last season, but you make it work. Come on, lets go.”
We wander down the street, hand in hand, giggling and laughing with each other. We probably look like crazy people—bed hair, no mak
eup, wearing pajamas and wilted office wear, but I don’t care. I only have eyes for him . . . and my breakfast.
We wolf down our avocado toast like people who haven’t eaten for days . . . which, I guess we are, really. And it’s only when I finish my meal that I come to a realization.
Not even a hint of morning sickness. In fact, I feel . . . good. Really damn good. Not just mentally, but physically as well. It’s like a weight has been lifted off, and I haven’t felt so content and at peace for a really long time.
We eat and we drink, we chat and we laugh, and we stare at each other over the little table, surrounded by other diners that I never even register.
There’s just me, and my husband. My for-real, not-going-to-get-divorced husband.
And I’ve never been so happy.
Luke
We arrive back at Tessa’s apartment after breakfast, both a little full from the meals we’ve eaten. I feel like some proud caveman, having provided for my woman and our baby. I’ve got to say . . . it makes me want to drag her into a hut and have my way with her.
As we walk to her front door, I cast her a glance—messy ponytail and loose sweatpants, but somehow so unbelievably sexy. She looks like she belongs in bed.
“Now that we’ve got brunch taken care of, it’s time to pick up where we left off this morning,” I say as I place a hand around her waist and squeeze her flesh, giving her a preview of what I want to do to her tempting little body.
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” Tessa looks back at me as she opens the door to her apartment, a small smile on her full, juicy lips, a different kind of hunger in her eyes this time.
My cock stiffens a little at the glance she throws me. I swear that seductive, knowing half-smile on her face will be my undoing. She’s got me wrapped around the finger she beckons me with.
Inside the elevator, I slip my hand under her old, ratty shirt, letting the heat of her skin scorch my fingers. “Fuck, you’re so sexy I could just take you right here.”
“Luke, there’s a camera,” she giggles, pointing her chin at the ceiling as we ride up higher and higher.