She had a sobering thought—would they even make it to their five-year anniversary? She couldn’t answer that and started to cry, hot tears falling silently down her cheeks.
They weren’t sad tears. They were angry tears. It made her so mad that she was alone in Chicago and not at home with him for their anniversary, that she hadn’t told him about the baby, that she was fucking crying all the damn time. All that was all on him.
Fuck! She didn’t understand. She’d thought they were happy, thought they had made it past the issues they had earlier that year. Obviously, he hadn’t. Why did this tour make such an impact on him? It didn’t appear that he sought out temptation, but when it found him, he welcomed it with open arms. He didn’t fight it. And why didn’t he? What caused him to give up? Was it really jealousy or was it something more?
That thought scared her and the tears came down even faster.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Rory asked, looking up from his breakfast.
Poor little guy. He was so tuned in to her emotions, so like her. It freaked her out sometimes. Rory needed love. He needed stability. He needed his damn parents together.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy just sent me a message. Today is our wedding anniversary. We celebrate the day we got married every year, just like we celebrate the day you two were born.”
“We’re going to be four,” Pierce stated.
She smiled at the mini-Ethan. “In a few months. For now, you guys are three and a half.”
“Can we talk to Daddy?” Rory hesitantly asked.
“Sure.” It had been a few days since they had been able to chat with Ethan. Even though she was kind of emotional right now, she could not deny her son’s request to speak to his father.
“Hi … I, uh, didn’t think I would hear from you,” he said, sounding surprised that she’d called him.
“The boys wanted to talk to you. Let me put you on speaker.” She knew she was short with him, but if she said anything more or acknowledged his text, she’d lose it. And it would be ugly.
Pressing the speaker button, she put the phone in front of the boys. “Okay, talk to him.”
“Daddy!” they yelled excitedly.
“Hi, guys! How are you?”
“We’re going to the beach, Daddy!” Pierce joyously informed him.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to build?”
“A ginormous castle. Taller than Mommy!”
Mia laughed, loving her son’s excitement. “Can I go inside?” she teased, ruffling his long wavy hair.
“Mommy! That’s silly!”
“Well, you know Mommy,” she said, making a silly face at her son. He cackled loudly. The threatening tears disappearing with their laughter.
Rory moved closer to the phone. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Mommy was crying because of your message.”
She sighed. Totally like her.
“She was?” he asked, his voice rising in surprise.
“Yeah, big tears,” he told his father, but looking right at her, defiantly looking out for his mother.
“Is she still crying?”
“No, but she looks sad.”
Rory, you’re killing me here, she thought.
“Can you do something for me, Rory?” Ethan asked his son.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Can you give your Mommy a hug and kiss from me?”
“Okay,” he said and raced off the chair to her and gave her a big hug and a sweet little kiss on her cheek, and the waterworks started again.
“Daddy! She’s crying again!” he exclaimed.
“Pierce! You’re on, man! Hug. Kiss. Now!” The tears were quickly drying up, replaced by the need to laugh at her sons’ exuberance. Ethan and his amazing ability to make her smile, even when she was angry with him.
Pierce hurried to do as his father demanded, a look of pure joy on his little face, giggling the entire way. “Did it, Daddy. She’s smiling now.”
“Good job, boys!”
Pierce piped in. “Mommy’s super pretty when she smiles. Right, Daddy?”
The tears returned at his silence. She couldn’t miss the tears in his voice when he spoke. “She is, Pierce. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“Ethan …”
“It’s true, Mia. I love you,” he said, his voice breaking.
She picked up the phone and turned off the speaker and headed to the living room on the other side of the house. She didn’t want her sons to hear this.
“Saying it doesn’t make the pain go away, Ethan.”
“I know. I just wanted you to know. To remind you. It’s not over, Mia.”
“I know that, Ethan. The sad thing is I’ll never be over you. No matter how much you hurt me. No matter what the outcome of this is. I’ll love you forever. But just because I love you doesn’t mean I will take your hurt. I can’t handle this again. I’m not sure I can handle it now.”
“I’m going to keep fighting for you, Mia.”
Good. She wanted him to fight for her because she wasn’t going to just forgive and forget. Mia needed to know she was worth his effort … so far, she kind of liked what he’d been doing to show her.
“Prove to me that this is worth all the pain. And there’s a lot of pain, Ethan.”
“I know,” he said. “So, does that mean you’re going to fight as well?”
“It means I’m not going to run away where you can’t find me. I’ll be here. But I may hide. I may ask for time. But you’ll always know where I am.”
“Okay.”
“You need to tell me the truth. Whatever I ask.”
“I know.”
“You may still lose the fight, Ethan.” She hated saying it but it was a possibility. He sighed sadly.
“I know. I’m well aware of my worst outcome. It keeps me awake night after night.”
It was her worst outcome too, but she didn’t say a word. They were talking … willing to work it out. That was a step.
“Mommy, when are we going to the beach?” Pierce yelled from the kitchen.
“Go,” he said with a chuckle. “Take pictures, okay? Especially of his castle.”
“I will.”
“I love you,” he said hurriedly. She couldn’t say it in return. What he did, it broke her … and she was having a hard time piecing everything back together. Including her love for him. Right now, the hate still outweighed the love.
“Goodbye, Ethan.”
She hung up the phone, her emotions very mixed. But with each conversation, be it via text, email, or phone, Ethan left her clues on where to find all those pieces.
Mia
Indianapolis, June 29, 2015
Walking through the airport in Indianapolis, her sons holding on to her hands with Bridgette next to them with the luggage, Mia felt apprehensive and she knew exactly why—Ethan.
She hadn’t seen him in two weeks. He had texted her the day before, informing her that he’d be at the airport to pick them up. She told him he didn’t have to do that. He simply replied, “I do. See you tomorrow.”
So here they were, trudging through the concourse, her sons ogling the food stands, begging for hot pretzels, while her mind wandered to the other messages he’d sent while she’d been in California for the premiere of her new movie. The first text talked about his first time visiting her in L.A., right after her band scored their record deal, how whenever he thought about Los Angeles, he thought of her. The way she had run into his arms when he arrived. How much she wanted him; how much he wanted her. How he knew that he needed to be with her and that he’d do anything to have her.
She remembered feeling that exact way. After that visit, she knew she had found the one person that she wanted to spend her life with. Part of her still felt that way. The other part couldn’t believe that he’d done this, broke them with his choice to sleep with Kristen.
That whore. She didn’t want to think about her right now. Not with her two sons by he
r side. She didn’t want them to see her angry with their father. She needed to rein it in. Looking up, she saw the sign for baggage claim and headed that way, where Ethan would be waiting for them.
As they traveled downward towards the baggage claim area, her eyes searched for Ethan and her heart skipped a beat when she found him off to the left of the escalators, his eyes trained in her direction. His face lit up in a huge grin when he saw them. The boys screamed out, “Daddy!” and Mia did her best to keep them from barreling down the escalator to greet him. She let them go at the bottom and the little guys raced into their father’s arms. Ethan lifted them both, kissing their foreheads. “Boy, did I miss you guys!”
Mia stood off to the side, unsure of what to do, how to act. The one thing she did know was that Ethan didn’t want to put the boys down. Not yet. It had been over two weeks since they’d last seen each other. The boys had missed him and he’d obviously missed them.
Finally he let them down, his large hands swallowing the little ones of their sons, and walked over to her. Her heart rate picked up as he leaned down. Oh, God, he’s going to kiss me. She impulsively turned her head and his lips ended up against her cheek and not her mouth. She gulped and closed her eyes at the lingering contact. Her entire cheek heated from his kiss. She inhaled sharply and his fresh scent invaded her mind. His soft lips glided up towards her ear, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before they stopped at her ear. “Welcome home, Mia,” he spoke softly before moving away.
Her brain couldn’t figure out how to open her mouth to respond to him. Even when he asked if they were ready, all she could do was nod.
Lagging behind, she kept even with Bridgette, as they all made their way to the parking garage. He unlocked the car and while he secured the boys in their car seats, Mia helped Bridgette put the luggage into the back. Bridge went to sit with the boys and it was then that Mia realized that she would have to sit next to Ethan in the front. She got in the car and placed her bag on her lap to hide her stomach. Not that she really had to do so. She wasn’t even showing yet, though she could feel the changes to her body—in her pants and especially in her tops. Pregnancy breasts for the win.
She glanced back at the boys in their seats and by the sleepy droop of their eyes, she had a feeling they’d be asleep before they arrived home. About five minutes into the trip, they were out, their twin heads falling to the right in their seats. So the car ride was silent. No one wanted to disturb the boys. Mia was thankful for that. She really didn’t know what to say to her husband and she didn’t want to fake it in front of Bridgette. She had told the nanny right away what was going on. Mia needed her on board to support the boys. Even so, she didn’t want her to be a witness to a dysfunctional conversation.
When they arrived, Ethan and Bridgette skillfully got the boys out of the car while Mia took care of their suitcases and backpacks. She left them in the mudroom and headed to the family room to wait for Ethan. She did need to talk to him, more about specifics for this week than an actual conversation about their relationship. She couldn’t do it yet. And after they talked, she’d take her old BMW convertible and head over to Luke’s where she’d stay while she was in Indy.
She yawned as she settled onto the sofa, feeling her exhaustion. By herself, she could easily sleep during a flight, but with her sons tagging along, there was no sleep for her. She closed her eyes and felt the strong pull of sleep and quickly was dead to the world.
Mia knew her husband was holding her before she even opened her eyes. His smell enveloped her. And when she did open her eyes, she realized her head rested on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. This felt so good. She felt safe.
Home.
This was why she had to leave their house and him. Physically he made her feel so good. She wanted him like a drug. She was addicted to him, to how he made her feel.
Looking up, she saw that his eyes were still closed and took the time to regard his handsome face. He had a few days worth of stubble along his strong jawline and surrounding his mouth. And she couldn’t help but stare at those lips that could light her on fire, still after nine years. She desired him. No doubt in her mind about that. Even now, she wanted to climb on his lap and kiss him awake.
Her fingers traced the contour of his chest through his white V-neck shirt. She hesitated at the bottom of the vee and then after little debate, she touched his bare skin.
Big mistake.
He felt so good, so warm, and that simple touch had turned her on. Staring at her fingers moving on his tanned skin, Mia swallowed. She wanted to press her mouth to his throat and taste him. Her fingers stilled with the whisper of her name. She slowly looked up and found his toffee eyes intent on her. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her too.
Damn it, she wanted her husband. She needed him, his comfort. She needed him to make it all better. But there was still a lot of anger and mistrust. If she continued the way she wanted, would this be a step in the right direction or a major complication?
Hoping this was the right direction, she leaned over and replaced her fingers with her lips. It was a tie for who moaned louder at the contact—her or him. She threw a leg over his waist and sat on him.
“I’m still mad at you. So very mad,” she murmured, her hands clasping his face.
“I know,” he replied, his hands holding her hips.
She lowered her head until she was right above his mouth, the caress sang through her body, filling her with the most wonderful feeling. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she added as she placed her parted lips on his. He hungrily returned her kiss.
Dragging his mouth away from hers, he lifted her up. “It means everything, Mia,” he said. Maybe it did, but for now all it meant was a way to take away the painful aches that had plagued her since finding out about his infidelity.
She secured her arms and legs around him and let him carry her upstairs to their bedroom. They fell against the bed, Ethan hovering above her.
“You sure?” he asked, his finger sliding underneath her shirt.
“No,” she responded, yet tugged at the fastening of his jeans.
“Mia …”
“I want you, Ethan. I’m sure of that. The rest I am not. Give this to me,” she begged, pulling his face to hers, frantically kissing him. “Please.”
He stepped back and removed his shirt and then quickly pushed off his jeans. Her lips turned up slightly for many reasons, number one being how absolutely gorgeous he was—the hottest forty-year-old she knew. He was still in superb shape. His abs and chest made her core whimper every time she laid eyes on them.
Making quick work of her shirt, she started on her skirt when he stilled her hands and proceeded to take over for her. Her body shivered as he pulled the fabric down past her hips. She prayed that he didn’t notice that she was pregnant. Now was not the time.
She moaned as his hands made their way back up her legs and his mouth found her stomach. She wanted to burst into tears. If he only knew what he was doing … he did this when she was pregnant each time before.
He continued up to her breasts where his lips did what they always did. Her breasts were so sensitive and it felt so good. She arched her back, wanting more. Running her fingers through his hair, she held him securely to her.
This is how it should have been that night. Here was her husband about to make love to her. Each and every lingering touch was infused with love. He lifted her higher on the bed and waited between her legs. She opened her eyes, smiling just a little when she found his face, with a smile of his own, above hers. He lowered his head, his eyes staying on hers, and his lips found hers parted, waiting for him.
Without any assistance, he entered her, his mouth on hers, capturing her moan.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She really needed to get over the hurt. He needed to figure out how and why he let them get to this place. Because together they were perfect. There was no one else who could do what he did to her. Nor did she want anyone other than
him.
Ethan wasn’t rushing this; she could see how he savored her, how he showed her his love in every touch, every caress.
In one swift movement, he rolled them over, changing positions on her. He looked up at her, a challenge in his eyes—would she make love to him? Sitting on top of him, looking down at the man she’d promised to love until death do them part, she accepted that challenge. Leaning back with her hands holding onto his thighs, she rolled her hips against him over and over.
“Oh, God,” she groaned, her body so close to release. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she slammed her hips against his until she could no longer move. His hands then clasped onto her waist, holding her still as he pumped into her, sending her over the edge, his name falling off her lips as she spasmed around him. As she held on tight for the ride, he continued until he came hard inside of her.
He held on to her as tightly as she to him. Fuck. That was perfect. Just what she needed to center herself.
Mia rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck, feeling the spastic pulse there. She felt content. Peaceful. She hadn’t felt this way in months. And the man laying beneath her was the cause of all of that. The peacefulness as well as the discontent. She tried not to think about the reason why—Kristen. Really she did. But once it entrenched itself in her mind, it wouldn’t let go. And then other thoughts barged in … like had he brought that whore to their home. She wondered if this spot, this room, was where he cheated on her. Those thoughts were the fuel to an angry fire and that anger boiled over. She’d given him silence, tears, but not her anger.
He deserved to see that too.
With a closed fist, she hit at his chest until the tears arrived. “Why did you have to ruin this, Ethan?” She bolted off him and hurriedly dressed herself in her discarded clothes. He sat on the bed in stunned silence. They had just shared a beautiful moment and now she had fury—and it was all directed at him.
“Damn it! That,” she said, pointing at the bed, “was so freaking beautiful but it was ruined the moment the stupid thought crossed my mind—is this where he slept with her? Did he bring her into our home while our kids were down the hall and fuck her on our bed?”
Never Over You Page 28