Her tears fall, and it’s the time I would usually stop. I would do my best to rid her of the pain and coddle her as best I could; but those days are over. “And while you think it stings, you’ll realise you don’t love me either.”
She doesn’t protest and it alleviates the small amount of guilt I have.
“You love the idea of me. The idea of us, and if we get together now, it’s just going to be another six months or a year of our lives, where we could be with people that make us so much happier.”
“Like Taylah.”
At the mention of her name, every broken piece inside me begins to meld itself together. Sasha talking about Taylah should sting. There should be internal conflict and worry that whichever I choose, the grass may be greener on the other side. But it doesn’t happen. The conflict doesn’t come. And I know without a shadow of a doubt. I’m going to make her mine.
“Exactly, like Taylah.”
“You really love her, don’t you?”
I wipe away her tears, and kiss the top of her head. “I really fucking love her. “
I move off the couch, and walk to my front door. It’s a little rude and abrasive, but this isn’t just figurative, I need to literally shut the door on this part of my life, to finally be able to chase the next part.
“When it’s time, I’ll tell her and hopefully I’ll be worthy enough of her.”
She catches on to my movements, and meets me at the door. She looks at me with sad eyes, and I look at her with a clear mind.
“You’re more than worthy Drix.” She kisses me on the cheek, before heading out the door. “Don’t ever let someone make you feel otherwise.”
25
Sasha
Running my fingers through Dakota’s hair she falls asleep while watching some late night reality television show. Sneakily, I drag her phone out of her grasp, and hope she has a number I need.
Just as I thought, it’s there. Sending it to myself, I grab my phone of the armrest, and do the most noble thing I have ever done in my life.
Me: Love him right. Love him better.
26
Taylah
Emerson clicks her tongue in disapproval. “Seriously, that’s not what you’re wearing out to my birthday.”
I look down at the casual black ensemble I paired with heels to “perk it up,” and shrug, “It works for me.”
“It’s not your birthday,” she sasses. ‘You don’t get the last say.”
“My outfit isn’t your gift.”
“Make it my gift, go and change.”
“For fucks sake,” I shout into the air. “Who even put you in charge?”
“Stop your whining, we have a reservation and I don’t want to be late.”
“Late for who? It’s your birthday.”
She waves me off. “I put some clothes on your bed. You’ve got twenty minutes. Make it happen.”
“Fucking diva,” I mutter.
There on my bed is my black dress. The black dress that started it all. It’s been five weeks and I feel like my whole heart has been ripped out of my chest. I think about him constantly, and I miss him so much it borderline’s unhealthy.
He filters through every thought in my mind, and every space in my house. His memory is paralysing and I just don’t know how to get past it.
Emerson mentioned he hasn’t seen or spoken to anyone since it happened, but I shut down the conversation as quick as I could. I didn’t need a reason to wonder why he hasn’t come to me. To tell me we’re over, or to tell me we’re not.
Some days when I’m feeling extra masochistic I let myself revel in his silence and give myself false hope, that he’s coming back. He just needs time.
Emerson bangs on the door. “I don’t hear you getting ready, you’ve got ten minutes.”
What a fucking ball buster.
Grabbing the dress, I put it on through tears, and get ready for him. I tell myself the lie, because I really don’t know what to do if he’s not the be all and end all for me.
For the first time ever I can sympathise with my mother telling me she wanted to grieve for the love of her life on her own.
Drix isn’t dead, but I feel like I’m grieving all the same. And every time I think I can rejoin the world and put it all behind me, my heart tells me it’s not time yet.
My bedroom door swings open, and Emerson barges in. Prepared to reprimand me for breathing incorrectly, the expression on her face is mildly surprised that I’m actually dressed and ready to go.
“See? Look how pretty you are. Don’t you feel better?”
I give her my best clenched teeth smile. “Couldn’t be better,” I grit out.
“Chop. Chop. Young lady,” she says while clapping at me. “Let’s go.”
Deciding to completely ignore her for the rest of the night. I lock up the house, and jump in her car. It takes us forty-five minutes to arrive to what I thought was a restaurant and is now a Karaoke Bar.
“Karaoke?” My voice cracks in surprise.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Is there a problem?”
“Since when do you sing?”
“Sometimes I like to try different things.”
“Biggest crock of shit I ever heard,” I mutter underneath my breath. She’s the worst liar.
“God, you are in the shittiest mood,” she snaps. “Could you please get over it.”
“Fine. I’m sorry.” I give her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re right. It’s your birthday, and I will have fun with you tonight.” I offer her my pinky. “I promise.”
Stepping into the Karaoke bar, I’m surprised to see it’s set up similar to a restaurant. It’s got all different sized tables, that face the stage, and a bar to order food and drinks from. Expecting to see more of Emerson’s other friends, I’m surprised when she sits us at a table of two.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask.
“It’s just you and me.”
“I wouldn’t have minded if other people came,” I say feeling guilty. “I know I’ve been a dick to be around, but I would’ve played nice for your birthday.”
She puts her hand over mine, while softly shaking her head. “It’s not that. I just wanted it to be you and me.”
“Fair enough.” I look around, and take in people are only sitting and there’s like piano music in the background “Where’s the singing?”
“It starts when they begin serving dinner.”
“Oh. When can we order?”
“Friday nights are set menus only,” she says quickly, hoping I won’t pull her up on it.
“Emmmmmmm,” I groan.
“Shut up. It’s only you and me, and you can eat extra if you need to.”
Surprised by how busy this hole in the wall is, I’m looking forward to everyone singing badly in public.
The waitress appears out of thin air with our entrees and the portions have me a little less miffed that I have to share with Em.
The lights dim a little bit further, when this cute pixie looking lady, bursts out onto the stage, ready to officiate the night. Her energy is contagious and I find myself feeling a little giddy at what’s to come.
“Okay, ladies and gentleman, before we get into the messy, drunk, and off key part of the evening. I have someone who has put in a special request, for a very special person.”
The crowd cheers, and my stomach unexpectedly erupts into flutters. I look over at Em, and her face says it all. She leans over the table. Kissing me on the cheek and whispering in my ear. “Be happy. Love you.”
My eyes stay fixated ahead, as the spotlight shines on the centre of the stage, and out comes my one and my only; Hendrix Michaels. Brown mussed up hair, a navy blue t-shirt, paired with dirty, dark denim jeans and Chucks, he looks as perfect as I remember. He looks out into the crowd, seeking me out. When he finds me, he tips his head to the lady, giving her the go ahead.
The familiar music starts, and I have to bury my head in my hands to control my emotions. He jumps off the stage,
gunning for me, as Phil Collins’ Groovy Kind of Love plays throughout the whole place. It’s everything. Tragically cheesy, and so fucking perfect.
The wait for him to reach me becomes too much. I kick off my heels, hike my dress up, and run. Tears streaming down my face, with every step. Getting closer, he holds out his arms and I throw myself into the only place I belong.
Securing me tightly, I cry the happiest tears of my life, all over his shoulder. The song ends, when I feel his hand shoot up and circle in the air.
Setting me on my feet, I see the relief and unshed tears in his eyes, as the song starts up again. Cradling my neck he brings me to him, close enough that even air would struggle to get in between.
I feel his hot breath spread like wildfire all over my body, as he says my favourite line. “Sing for me, Crazy.”
27
Taylah
I wake up still floating on cloud nine. I look over at Hendrix, who looks so good in my bed, I could cry. Again.
Reaching for my phone, I pull up the message I got from an unknown number, and write back.
Me: I will
Epilogue
Hendrix
Two Years Later
Picking up the keys from the real estate agent, I rush home, to give Taylah and the girls their final surprise.
After months of searching we finally found our dream home; one big enough for Aubrey, Abigail and everyone else who comes in and out of our lives.
It’s been two years since I walked back into Taylah’s life, and I have no regrets. Actually, I have one, that we didn’t meet sooner, so I would have more years with her, because this lifetime and the next will never be enough.
From then on our relationship hit the ground running and we still haven’t stopped. It took three months for me to sell my place and move in with her. She argued we should move into my place because it was bigger, but I told her I wasn’t ready to give up her drawing to strangers.
One year later, we put down our names as foster parents. It’s been challenging, rewarding, and completely life changing, in all the ways that matter.
It’s an open house for the most part. Long term and short term stays, until we met Aubrey and Abigail. They were newborn twins who needed permanent housing. It was kismet.
Seeing Taylah work her magic, bring her Crazy to more lives than just mine has been the icing on the cake. So much so, that I can’t wait to have babies of our own.
Walking in the front door, I greet her the same way I always do. “Honey, I’m home.”
Laying on the couch she has two babies draped across her body; the three of them sleeping. I snap a picture, and send it to her, with the hashtag MILF. Instagram is still a no go for me, but nobody can say I don’t have my hashtags down pat.
Using the time they’re asleep to pack some last minute things in the car, I walk around the house making as much noise as possible. She’s going to kill me, but I’m desperate for them to wake up.
Two hours later, we pull up to the place dreams are made of.
“I’m just going to check something inside, are you good to get the girls out of the car?” She rolls her eyes at me, while shutting the door with her hip.
“I don’t know, Sexy, it’s a mystery how the three of us survive without you.”
I kiss her to shut her up. It works, and she knows it. “I’ll see you inside.”
The sound of slow and cautious footsteps, sets my plan in motion. The front door opens straight to the living room, a huge blank wall with no furniture directly in front of it. Down on one bended knee, I hold both her ring, and a photo I’ve kept hidden in one hand.
Her mouth drops the minute she sees me. Placing the girls in the middle of the floor, she frets about their comfort before walking toward me. This is why I love her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, as she gets closer.
“What do you think I’m doing, Crazy?” I fight the urge to stand up, and continue with the plan. “I want you to marry me.”
“Drix.” She says my name like the sun rises and sets with me. Like there’s nothing before me and nothing after me. She says my name like I’m the one. Every. Single. Time.
“Crazy, when you walked into my world, I knew you would change it. I didn’t know how or in what way, but you were someone I was never going to forget. You had faith in me when I lost hope for my own happy ever after. You challenge me to be better, to do better. For you, for our family, and for myself.”
Holding my hand out for hers, I slide the ring on her fourth finger, just as I hand her the next surprise.
“What’s this?” she asks.”
“See if you remember it,” I urge.
Her eyes widen, as it dawns on her. “How did you get this?”
“I had it taken that night.” In her hand is a photo from the Karaoke Bar. It doesn’t hold the same sadness as the original, but her ethereal beauty is all the same. Wearing a smile through tears, I take all credit for the photo that captures our happiness. “Turn it around.”
Next Chapter
Taylah Jennings, I love you. I have never loved someone as much as I love you. I have never been loved the way you love me. Become my wife. Become the mother of our children, all of them, in any which way they come. Save the world with me, Crazy. Just like you saved me.
Enjoyed REVIVE?
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RECTIFY
A Redemption Novel
Want to know what’s next for Sasha?
Be the first to take a look at the official blurb
We weren’t just young. We were stupid and reckless.
Jay was the beginning of every bad decision I made.
He was the enemy of everyone I'd loved, and I was a pawn in his game.
Now we’re two adults with crooked pasts, trying to straighten out our future.
Neither of us believe in happily ever after.
So why are we desperately trying to chase ours?
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Acknowledgments
Andrew and Jax, you’re my world. I love you.
Steph. There’s nothing better than sharing books with someone. There’s nothing better than sharing books with your best friend.
Mum, thank you for reading these.
Jacob and Laura. Man, how do you guys even put up with all this craziness? Thank you for pushing me over the line, each and every time.
Diane, you are one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Aubrey.
You keep getting better and better. Bring on 2018
Marley’s MOFO’s I hope this book was everything you wanted it to be. Let’s all be #TeamDrix
Autumn Grey, Kacey Shea, Bianca Smith, Brenda Travers, Donna Elsegood and Ella Fields. You women are my constants. Always willing to listen. Always willing to help.
Michelle and Shauna, you ladies kept this book alive, and I love you for it.
ellie McLove, I LOVE YOU!
Laura from Hawkeyes Proofing, the best thing about you I can send you anything at anytime and you read it. With so many of your own deadlines you made this book a priority. Thank you.
Enticing Journey, I love working with you. Not sure if you would say the same about me though LOL
If I forgot someone. I’m sorry. I still love you, and you know the drill… Eat McDonalds on the regular and stalk Charlie Hunnam.
Much Peace and Love.
About the Author
Marley Valentine comes from the future. Living in Sydney, Australia with her family, when she's not busy writing her own stories, she spends most of her time immersed in the words of her favourite authors.
Marley Valentine is also half of Remy Blake; a male and female author duo, paired up to have some fun writing steamy, short reads with insta love/lust and a HEA. You can expect twice the debauchery in ev
ery novel they write.
Other Books by Marley Valentine:
Devastate | Deviate | Revive ( A Redemption Novel)
Smuttily Ever After (A Bloggers Anthology)
Find Marley
Facebook | Facebook Reader Group | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads Author Page | Twitter | Instagram | Website | BookBub | Newsletter
Revive (A Redemption Novel) Page 19