Epiphany

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Epiphany Page 15

by Ashley Suzanne


  “I think Shelby will take it just fine. I know she’s only five, but she’s smart.

  As for the sleeping with Skylar—for being such an intelligent man, you can be so stupid

  sometimes. It’s called in vitro or something like that. There’s nothing wrong with

  Mira’s eggs, and I assume since she was just pregnant a month ago, Skylar’s sperm

  works just fine. I’m just the incubator. Helping. Out. My. Best. Friend.” I’m trying everything I can to calm down—counting to ten, playing with the hem of my shirt, thinking of happy

  memories—it’s getting me nowhere.

  “I’m not talking about just Shelby. What about our kids we’ll have in the future?” Color me shocked. I wasn’t aware we’d be having children together.

  “I don’t want any more children.”

  “What?” Jacoby gasps, a painful look written all over his face.

  “What do you mean what? We have Shelby. That’s more than enough for me,” I answer honestly.

  “I wasn’t aware that you decided for us that we weren’t having children.” Fuming is too kind of a word to describe Jacoby

  in this instant. Standing from the couch, he walks into the kitchen, pouring an extra

  tall glass of whiskey. Usually, it’s me running for the liquor cabinet, not him.

  “Listen,” I say, following him, trying to defuse the situation. “I love Shelby.

  She’s more than enough for me. Think about what us having a baby will do to her.” Gently touching his arm, he pulls back and walking

  to the other side of the island. Taking a large gulp, he slams the glass down on

  the countertop.

  “Why don’t you enlighten me, Kylee? What is giving her a brother or sister going to do to her? I can’t wait to hear this,” he mocks, sitting on the bar stool, staring at me, ready to boil over.

  “You don’t have to be so damn condescending,” I say softly. “If we have a baby, that would be wonderful. At first she would love him or her. Then as time goes on, she’d

  resent our child. She doesn’t live here full time; our baby would. She can’t see

  you whenever she wants; our baby would.” Jacoby rolls his eyes, either not understanding

  or not wanting to understand what I’m saying.

  “Seriously, Jacoby, a little girl’s first love is her daddy. Every relationship she’s ever going to have will be based off that bond—between father and daughter. I won’t put her in a situation where she feels less than or not as loved.”

  “Even if what you’re saying is true, shouldn’t it be our decision? It’s taking a lot out of me to not throw this glass across the room.

  If we don’t have kids, that doesn’t mean you go around lending out your uterus. It’s

  just now how things are done.” The effects of Jacoby’s upbringing are shining through—he’s

  not sounding like the man I fell in love with. I’m starting to wonder if this is

  more about appearances than anything else. He would actually have to explain why

  his fiancée was pregnant, yet there’s no baby.

  Showing that I’m onto him, it’s me that explodes, “I don’t care what people think.

  It doesn’t bother me one bit what they’ll talk about. Here are the facts: This is

  my body and whatever I choose to do with it is up to me, Shelby is my number one priority even if I’m only her step mother, and how the fuck dare you tell me that I can’t help my best friend when she’s hurting? Don’t make me choose

  between you.” To drive my point home, I’m the one that takes his glass, chucking

  it across the room, shattering it into tiny pieces, but only after I finish the rest

  of the whiskey inside.

  “It’s not about choosing, Kylee. It’s about realizing that we’re engaged, which means

  that we’re going to be married soon. You can’t make decisions like that without talking

  to me. Who knows, if we would have had a conversation about this, it might change

  my opinion, but we didn’t. I don’t want you to do this.” Tears threaten to spill.

  How doesn’t he see how much I want to do this?

  “I’m sorry, Jacoby, but I’m doing this. Mira’s as close to a sister as I’m ever going

  to have. She’s my person and if she needs me, then she has me, without having to

  ask. I’m offering this to her, and if she accepts, you’re going to have to get over

  it or get over me.” I don’t want to do this, but it’s the truth.

  Some people think that a soul mate is the person you marry. That’s not the case for

  Mira and me, though. She’s my other half, my better half. When everything else fails—boys,

  parents, kids—we have each other forever.

  “Let me just try to comprehend this for a second. You’re telling me that no matter what my opinion on the matter is, you’re going to do it—carry a child for Mira?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, wishing it didn’t have to be this way. He’s never going to get

  it.

  Without saying another word, Jacoby walks out of the kitchen, grabs his keys from

  the hook at the front door and leaves.

  I go as far as waiting up for him, until after one, only he doesn’t come home. With a few calls and text messages that have gone unanswered, I pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch and fall asleep. Sometime around four, Shelby comes downstairs and climbs into my arms. When she falls back asleep, I peek in the garage, checking if Jacoby’s home yet.

  No car. No keys. No returned calls or texts.

  Lying back on the couch, I try fall back to sleep with my little lady. A few moments

  later, panic starts to churn deep within. What if I’ve screwed everything up so badly

  that Jacoby leaves and I won’t get any more cuddles with Shelby?

  Silent tears start to fall as I cry myself to sleep, praying and hoping that I haven’t

  bitten off more than I can chew.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Mira

  Today’s the first day in a month that I’ve felt closer to being myself again. Attempting to get back on my usual schedule, I actually pulled myself out

  of bed when the alarm sounded. It’s a small thing, but it’s a step in the right direction.

  Keeping the momentum going, I apply some makeup and iron out my hair. Taking a second glance at myself in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom, I must say, I look pretty damn good. Much better than I could have hoped for someone who hasn’t left the house in a while.

  “And where do you think you’re off to looking that good?” Skylar asks, whistling as I choose an outfit from the closet.

  “I’m headed out with Kylee for a bit. She found a bakery for her wedding she wants to try out. She said something about chocolate and champagne, so you know I’m in,” I tease, putting on a pair of actual pants instead of the sweats I’ve been living in.

  “I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little jealous that she gets to spend time with you while you’re looking that damn good.” Pulling a tight fitted tee shirt over my head, that’s cut a little lower than I would typically wear, Skylar’s eyes cloud with lust, looking at me like I’m a meal and he’s starved.

  It’s been weeks since we’ve been intimate and I can’t ignore the throbbing between my thighs. Walking to the edge of the bed and crawling up to where Skylar’s propped up against the headboard, I lean over him and whisper in his ear, “I’m only going to be gone a few hours. Maybe you should be home when I get back.”

  As I begin backing up, Skylar grabs my arms, holding me in place. He presses his lips to mine, waiting for my reciprocation. When he gets the green light he’s searching for, Skylar takes my mouth and senses by storm. Surrendering all control, I allow him to position my head and take what he’s been missing. And mother of all things holy does he take.

  “I’ve missed you,
” he says between kisses.

  Just that small statement alone drills home that I’ve been absent. I’ve not been present for anything, let alone any concern for his needs and wants. Through everything, he was patient and compassionate, loving me unconditionally and waiting for me to get back to where I finally am now.

  Detaching from our kiss, I start slowly pressing soft kisses to his jaw and down his neck. Not detouring from my path, I continue down until I’m at his lower abdominals, clenching my thighs together as I run my tongue alone the perfectly etched ‘V’ that points to my final destination.

  “Fuck, Mira,” he hisses, lifting his hips.

  “Thank you,” I say, moving lower to the cotton band of his boxers. “For loving me.” With my teeth, I pull at the waist. He takes my cue, pushing them down. “Always, loving me.” Kissing the insides of his muscular thighs. “No matter what.” I swipe my tongue up his shaft, letting my lips rest just above the head of his

  cock. Just enough where he can feel my breath, but nothing else. “For loving me unconditionally.”

  In one fell swoop, I lick my lips then take him in my mouth as far as I possibly can. Skylar’s fingers find my hair on their own accord, working together to hold my hair away. Bringing my hand up to join the party, I gently massage his boys, making sure they get a full work out as well.

  “You’re welcome, even though it’s not needed, it’s greatly appreciated,” Skylar pants.

  Having not been intimate in so long, I’m not expecting this to last long.

  As my head bobs with the rhythm of his hips, Skylar’s growls grow closer together. When his balls pull tight, I let them go, knowing his release is only moments away. Becoming braver, I force myself to take him down further than he’s been before. Thankfully, the warm, salty fluid hits the back of my throat before my gag reflex gets to work.

  With one final grunt, Skylar stills, his body going rigid as the last of his come

  shoots out in small bursts. Being a champ, and never a quitter, I take everything

  he’s giving to me with pride.

  Sitting back on my calves, I wipe the corners of my mouth and smile devilishly. “No, babe. You’re welcome.”

  “Touché,” he chuckles, pulling his boxers up and walking into the bathroom.

  Running a comb through my hair and reapplying some lip gloss, it’s only minutes before Kylee’s ringtone plays from my nightstand.

  “Hey. Are you on your way?” I ask, going back to the closet and searching for the match of the one sneaker I’ve managed to find.

  “Will be soon. Rough night. I wanted to make sure you were still up for today,” she says, kind of sounding like

  she was waiting for me to bail so she wouldn’t have to.

  “Nope, I’m good. Just finished getting ready and handling some other business. See you in thirty?” I ask, not letting her off the hook. Part of being back to

  myself means that Kylee doesn’t get away with shit. I bet she’s kicking herself in the

  ass right about now.

  “Oh. Okay. Thirty.” Her end of the line disconnects before I can even pull the phone away from my ear.

  “Kylee?” Skylar asks, coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. If my

  hair wasn’t looking absolutely amazing, I would so climb into that shower with him

  and get a little reciprocation myself.

  “Yeah. She’ll be here in a half hour.” The smirk on his face is nothing more than a clear

  indication that he’s thinking the same raunchy thoughts as me. No you don’t, pal. I’m looking great today.

  “Take your shower. I’ll have coffee ready when you’re done.” Skylar stalks toward me, coffee apparently the last thing on his mind. Dodging his grip, I run into the kitchen and start brewing. Laughing to myself, I think back to just a few days ago when you couldn’t pay me to smile, now I’m doing it for no other reason than I’m happy.

  As the guilt starts to swarm into my brain, I quickly shut it down. If it’s just me and Skylar for the rest of our lives, I think I can deal with that. If a baby makes its way into our hearts, that’s just icing on the cake.

  *****

  KYLEE – I’m here

  ME – Give me 5. Be right down.

  “Okay, I’m out of here. Kylee’s downstairs. Want me to bring you back anything?” I ask, grabbing my purse.

  “Nope, I’m good. Just text me on your way home so I can make sure I’m here,” he says, winking. And that damn smirk comes back. I do hope that one day I’ll be able to build up some kind of immunity to that sly smile that tells me he’s thinking something dirty.

  “Will do.”

  Skylar stands from the sofa, walks over to me and stares deeply into my eyes to the

  point where I’m lost in the vast ocean blue of his. Needing to break the spell before

  I don’t do anything at all, except go back to bed, I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him

  goodbye.

  Not the smartest choice I’ve ever made. I’m unsure how many minutes have passed, but judging from the persistent text message notification going off inside my purse, it’s been more than five.

  “I gotta go,” I whisper, taking a step back, only for him to match mine. We repeat this little dance until my back’s flush against the door.

  “I know. I just missed this so much; I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” Taking a large step backward, Skylar releases his hold on me. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

  Turning around, I quickly exit the apartment and push the button for the elevator.

  “Don’t be gone too long,” Skylar shouts from the doorway.

  “Nothing could keep me away,” I respond, as the bell chimes. Entering the elevator, I blow him a kiss just as the doors close.

  Making my way out the front door, Kylee’s parked right on the curb, looking rather impatient. Taking a deep breath, I climb in the car, expecting a talk about me keeping her waiting too long.

  “Have fun?” she asks, raising a brow at me suspiciously.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Remember, I’m not the one who reenacts porn scenes while on the phone with their friends,” I quip, ready for this battle.

  “Yeah. Okay. Whatever you say, Mira.” Kylee rolls her eyes and pulls out into traffic.

  It takes roughly fifteen minutes to get to the bakery she told me about last night; a cute, quaint little shop in downtown Birmingham that caters to the rich and not so famous. Walking through the front door, the smell of chocolate and sugar invade my senses, making my stomach growl.

  “Welcome,” an older lady greets us from behind the pastry counter.

  “My name is Kylee Anderson. I have an appointment for some tastings this afternoon.” The woman waves us toward a door, talking a mile a minute—none of it I catch, but Kylee seems to.

  “Yes, my fiancé and I will be getting married soon and he recommended you. I’ve also

  read great things online. I’m pretty excited to taste what you’ve prepared for us

  today,” Kylee says, walking through the threshold.

  Behind the door, a magnificent, almost fairytale room exists. Small ornate chairs

  and matching tables adorn the small sunroom of sorts—enough seating in here for probably

  twenty people. Three walls made of decorative glass surround the enclosure. Sitting

  at the table, Kylee and I both look at each other in shock that such a place exists.

  “How did Jacoby know about this place?” I ask.

  “He said he brought Shelby here for her birthday last year. I can totally see why.

  This is heaven.” It truly is. There’s nothing plain or ordinary about this.

  A few moments later, the older woman comes back to our table with a bottle of champagne, the cork already popped and mist still coming out of the top. Taking the flutes from our place settings, she pours each of us a glass and places the champagne in a bucket with ice I didn’t notice
when we first sat down.

  “Now, Kylee, you said on the phone you were looking for something simple, yet beautiful. I think I have the perfect ideas brewing for you and have some of them to taste today. Are you and your guest …” she pauses, elegantly asking for my name without actually asking.

  “Mira,” I say. She grins, refocusing her attention on Kylee.

  “Are you and Mira ready to begin?” Kylee and I nod, more than ready to taste whatever she throws at us.

  From the kitchen, a man no older than Kylee and myself, comes walking out holding a large serving tray full of bite-sized pieces of cake. Placing the selections on our table, they both walk away leaving Kylee and me to our tasting. In the middle, there’s a note card and pencils with instructions to keep track of which ones we like best.

  “So, how are you feeling?” Kylee asks, taking a slice of chocolate cake with yellow frosting. As I ponder her question, and exactly how to answer, I choose a yellow cake with white icing.

  “I’m better. It was pretty bad for a while. I know you saw some of it. I can’t really explain it, though. I was just so depressed.” Cutting off a small bite, the banana flavor hits my taste buds in an explosion. “This is amazing,” I sigh, watching Kylee do the exact same thing to her cake.

  “But you’re better now?”

  “Yeah, I guess. It’s still hard. Knowing that I won’t be having any children. I don’t know. I guess I’ll just make the best out of my situation.” Exchanging

  my yellow for a red velvet, Kylee looks deep in thought. “Didn’t you lure me here with promises of telling

  me something amazing?”

  “Yeah, I did,” she answers, but doesn’t elaborate. I stare at her, waiting for the

  continuation.

  “And…”

  “It’s just an idea I had yesterday. Wanted to run it past you.” Her lack of communication is killing me. It’s got to be good for her to be so leery

  of opening her mouth, when any other time, she can’t keep her trap closed.

  “Are you gonna run it by me or are we gonna have a staring contest all day?”

  Kylee takes a deep breath, sets her fork down and looks at me uncertainly. “I want to help you and Skylar have a baby,” she rushes out, combining all of the syllables together.

 

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