by A. E. Murphy
“What do you mean?”
“This baby won’t bring back, Caleb,” I hate that she’s right. “This baby won’t be Caleb either. If you remember that then you should be okay.”
Now this is something I’m not sure of. “Fancy going into town to get a coffee? This smell is making me want to vomit.”
“Definitely,” she chuckles and we go to grab our coats. “Your friends are coming down next month aren’t they?”
I nod, “I can’t wait. I miss them.”
“I bet.” She looks at me sideways. “How are you doing? You seem to have perked up a little more than usual this week. Although Nathan seems to be in his usual foul mood.”
We came back from the city just over a week ago and she’s right, Nathan’s mood has been foul. Although he hasn’t aimed it at me, I’ve still felt the bite of his fury just by sitting close to him. I’m not sure what’s bothering him, all I know is that he’s taken a few calls that haven’t ended well. His phone screen has a large crack down it from throwing it; I assume.
His voice had been travelling from his study all day, I couldn’t make out what he was saying as it was too muffled, but I could tell he wasn’t a happy bunny. Part of me wanted to go upstairs and console him but I knew by his silence at the dining table that he just wanted to wallow.
Nathan parked further down the driveway. Nathan was paranoid that the decorators would scratch his car. I wish he’d parked a little closer, sure I can see the car about thirty feet away but that’s a good thirty feet I could’ve avoided walking down.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jeanine says and climbs into her own vehicle.
While we’re in the village we stop by a bookstore, there’s a lot to choose from but nothing that interests me. Jeanine goes book mad, piling them in her basket before spending twenty minutes chatting to the girl behind the counter. Something glints out of the corner of my eye, I immediately head for the shelf and pick up the gorgeous leather journal with a brass buckle keeping it closed.
“What is this?” I ask, effectively cutting off their conversation.
“One of the leather journals I got in stock a while back. Only sold a few. I think that’s the last one,” she says from across the store.
My hand runs across the A4 sized book, the leather is patterned beautifully. “How much is it?”
“Fifty,” she responds and I almost choke.
“Fifty?”
“Yes, it should be sixty.”
Well I do enjoy a bargain. With a heavy sigh I take the journal to the counter and hand over my card. Inputting my pin into the machine after a long moment’s deliberation, I finally relax. Fifty pound is a lot of money. There are a lot of things I could buy with that.
Nathan deserves this more. He’s done a lot for me and something tells me he’ll love this.
She wraps the book in parcel paper and places it in a bag for me. I take it with a thank you and follow Jeanine out of the store.
We part ways and I go home feeling a little better.
Although the place still stinks of paint when I arrive. Gross.
Tucking the leather journal away somewhere safe in my room, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, my heavy stomach bouncing around. Caleb was always moving, always. Maybe the baby gets it from him.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” I call, still sprawled on my back with my legs over the side of the bed.
“Where’ve you been?” Nathan asks and closes the door. The paint smell seems to be bothering him too.
“I just went into town for an hour,” I say on a yawn, raising myself onto my elbows. “You didn’t need the car did you?”
He shakes his head, I pat the bed beside me and flop back down. I’m shocked when he joins me. His head turns towards me only a foot away from mine. We share a smile but his fades when I wince a little at the dull ache throbbing in my lower back. “What’s wrong?”
“Back ache,” I admit and wriggle a little. “It’s okay, it’ll pass soon.”
I hear a thud when Nathan slides to his knees by the bed. A squeal escapes me as his hands grip the place behind my knees and pull me off the bed. My body spins until only my chest is resting on the bed and my knees rest on the floor.
What’s he doing? “Nath…”
“Relax,” he commands as his covered fingers lift my top up my back.
I try to look back at him but his hand presses my face back into the bed. Soon his fingers start stroking against my skin, I tense momentarily until they dig deep at the base of my spine and slowly work that area. Oh god, that feels great.
I barely register it when he slides a cushion under my knees, because one hand never stops the massage that is working the ache out of my back.
“Don’t stop doing whatever it is you’re doing,” I groan.
Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.
He kneels directly behind me to get to all of the right spots more effectively.
My legs slip a little on the floor as I relax deeper into the mattress, the top curve of my stomach touching the side of it. Unfortunately Nathan’s closer than anticipated and if this position isn’t already awkward enough my arse connects with his groin.
He tenses and clears his throat, his fingers still on my back.
“Sorry,” I whisper into the quilt and slide forward a little.
“No problem,” he seems to choke out. Then to make matters worse, he adds, “Your skin is flawless.”
I blink in shock, “What?”
“Your skin,” he repeats and brushes his fingers lightly over the curve of my hips, making me shiver. “It’s flawless.”
“It’s pregnancy, it has many benefits,” I mumble and move my hips a little. “Keep going.”
His thumbs begin to circle once more. Oh god. That’s so good.
“No,” he murmurs, pushing deeper into my flesh. “It’s just you.”
Okay, I’m all for compliments but this is making me feel weird. The position, the touching, and the way he’s speaking. “I feel better now.”
“Relax,” he presses into my back again and I half relent. “What did you do in town?”
“Went for coffee and for a walk,” groan, that feels amazing. “Then we went into the book store.”
“It didn’t have anything you like?”
“It did.”
He waits for me to continue, I don’t, I’m too drugged on this wave of relaxation that’s sinking into me; making my skin burn and my blood warm. “Continue.”
“If I do that I’d have to move,” I grumble and feel him laugh silently.
“Just tell me the name of the book.”
I don’t even know my own name right now, “It doesn’t have a name; it’s unwritten.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
I smile into the blanket, savouring the feel of his leather clad fingers circling and dragging across the skin of my back. Goose pimples swell over every inch of my skin. I feel his thighs brush mine, unintentionally I think; either way it makes me whisper a moan into the peach coloured fabric. My nipples pebble as his hands cup my hips and his groin brushes against my once more.
“I got something for you,” I manage to say, willing myself to pull away. Screams echo through my mind as I chastise my traitorous body mentally.
This time he deliberately presses himself into me, I feel the swelling in his pants and gasp. This is wrong.
He acts normal even though his own body is betraying him, I feel the trembling in his hands as they explore my skin. “Why for me?”
“I just saw it and thought you’d like it. You probably won’t.”
“I will,” he breathes and this thumbs dip under the seam of my trousers, right above my soft globes.
“Nathan,” I warn as his breathing deepens and he presses himself into me once more.
He lets out a quiet moan, almost like a whimper and grinds into me. Heat pools in my belly, I can’t help it. I’m almost six months pregnant, my hormones are raging. I kno
w this is wrong, so damn wrong. Why does it feel so good?
“Nathan,” this time my voice isn’t a warning, it’s pleading.
His hands trail down the outside of my thighs, dragging across the fabric as they go. In a second they cup the front of my thighs and slowly peel them open, causing my breath to hitch and my heart to accelerate.
Chapter Sixteen
A voice shoots through my mind, one I know so well. One that doesn’t exist anymore.
“My brother isn’t normal. Stay away from him, Gwen. Okay?”
As if a bucket of ice is dropped on me I cry out and scramble away, Nathan instantly releases me; not that he had a chance to grip me as my action was rather sudden. I sit on the floor looking at his flushed face and wild brown eyes. They come to me and his hand reaches out.
“No,” I say, my head shaking back and forth frantically.
He sits back, his legs bent in front of him, his hands resting on the curves of his knees. We both stare at each other for a long while.
What just happened?
I daren’t ask him why he’s doing this, mostly because I’m afraid of the answer.
“Gwen,” he says calmly and stands slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Placing his hand in the air he waits for me to take it. I don’t, I daren’t risk it right now. I’m aching in places I shouldn’t, so I don’t trust my body.
“Here,” I lower my eyes and rush into my closet, hiding under a few folded bed sheets is the journal I bought for him. My hands smooth the parcel paper as I walk back towards him, chewing on my lip nervously. “It’s not much, nothing in comparison to what you’ve done for me.” I wasn’t going to give it to him yet but it seems like an okay distraction for now.
He stares at me with a frown, “You don’t have to pay me back.”
“I want to, it’s what friends do,” I add this last bit giving him an imploring look. See reason, please see reason.
Dilated pupils stare intently at my face as I look away, his hands take the gift from mine and slowly peel away the paper. I hope he likes it, truly I do.
The silence stretches between us as the journal finally comes into view. He looks from the leather bound book to me and then back again. His hands turn it over before stroking it to feel the patterned grooves that make the cover.
“This is wonderful,” he says sincerely. “You said you got this from the book store in town?”
“Yes, it literally caught my eye.”
He smiles at me, his cheekbones turning slightly pink. “Thank you.”
I wave him off, “Don’t thank me.”
“I should go and check on the decorators,” his tongue teases his lower lip. “We’ll go out to eat, the stench of paint is irritating me.”
I smile fondly, “Everything irritates you.”
“Of course,” he grins and touches my cheek with his thumb, I shy away instantly but he doesn’t seem offended. “Get ready.”
“Kay,” I scuff my sock on the ground, praying that his intense gaze lingers on me no longer.
“Fifteen minutes, Guinevere,” he says my name quietly, like a gentle caress on my skin, before leaving the room completely.
Caleb’s eyes catch me from my bedside table, I stare at him for a long time, imagining his eyes glaring at me with accusation. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, desperate for him to believe that it was nothing more than a moment of weakness and Nathan is nothing more than a friend. He doesn’t believe me, I can feel it.
But it’s true.
Whoa, dizzy. Strange.
Must be my low blood pressure, my eyes just turned black for a moment there. I need to stop stressing myself out over little things, it’s not healthy. Caleb isn’t here, he’s not coming back.
Even though I know I’ll never let him go, I need to stop trying to run all of my decisions past him first. He’s not here to answer me and I’m twisting what his answers would be in my mind to make myself feel worse.
I deserve it, I deserve to feel worse.
We enjoy a quiet dinner at a restaurant out of town, Nathan doesn’t say much and neither do I. There’s not much to say.
I spend the entire time looking at everything but him, this is really awkward so I’m relieved when my phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer, turning away from Nathan to give myself some semblance of privacy.
“I messed up,” it’s my mum. What? “I should never have sent you away I was just so angry and disappointed.”
“Okay,” I move away from Nathan, his hand comes out and snags my wrist. Placing my hand over the speaker I turn to him, “I’ll be one minute.”
“Who is it?” He asks, making me quirk a brow.
I walk away without responding and step into the cold air.
“Where are you?” She asks on a sniff.
“I’ve travelled south for the winter,” I respond and clear my throat. “I’m staying with a friend.”
She lets out a long breath, “I want you to come home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah, I want to be there for my grandbaby and my first baby. I know… I screwed up. But I want to make it up to you.”
I shift nervously on the spot, placing my finger in my other ear to stop the wind from distorting my ability to hear her. “Why the change of heart?”
“I’ve had some time to calm down and think about it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve come around,” I say and look through the window, noticing Nathan’s eyes on me. “I’ll have to let you know if I’m coming home, I’m… it’s complicated.”
“Can I at least come and see you?”
Can she? Do I want her to?
She is my mum. Gah, this is so frustrating. “Sure. Just let me sort a few things first.”
“You’re, umm… not staying in a hostel or something are you?”
I smile a little, “No, Mum, I swear. I’m in a very good and safe place with a friend.”
She sighs with relief, “I’m sorry for what I said. How are you doing? With everything. I should have been there for you.”
“Yeah,” I say, my eyes burning. “You should have.”
I hear her sniff and my heart pounds a heavy rhythm in my chest. “I’ll be there, I swear. Call me. I miss you.”
“You too.” I hang up and chew on my lip for a moment, my phone clutched tightly in my hand.
After taking a steady breath I walk back into the restaurant and make my way over to Nathan.
As soon as I get close enough he asks, “Problem?”
“No,” I lie, this is a problem in a sense. How exactly do I deal with this? “It was my mum.”
“The one who disowned you?”
“The one and only,” I slide into my seat and rest my chin on my hand. “She said she’s sorry, she was angry and disappointed and never should have reacted that way.”
He scoffs and runs his fingers through his hair, “I don’t care much for your mother.”
“She wants me to go home,” my voice is a low whisper, but he hears me. I know this because his body shifts and his tongue swipes his lower lip.
He clears his throat and casually moves his straw around his glass, “Are you going?”
“Not without speaking to you first,” I watch his straw swirl through the clear liquid.
His face drops, “Would you like to go?”
Would I? “It’d get me out of your way, you could go back to your life without having to worry about me.”
His face softens, “I’ll always worry about you.”
I look him directly in the eyes, “Do you want me to go?”
Blowing out a breath, he runs his fingers through his hair again, “No. Honestly I don’t.”
“I thought you liked your privacy. Your space.”
“And so far you’ve respected both, I enjoy your company. It is your choice but think about it before you make any decisions,” he waves his hand to signal for the waitress. She comes over and clears our plates, asking if everything was okay with our meal. We both n
od and climb from the table. Nathan takes my wrist in his hand and guides me outside. I’m not sure exactly where we are, I just know that it looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere.
“She wants to visit,” I blurt as we walk towards the car.
His brow rises, “Does she know who you’re staying with?”
“No, I didn’t tell her,” I chew on my lip for a moment, looking out of the curving green and yellow hills that touch the horizon. “Can I ask you something?” He helps me into the car and rushes around to his side.
“Sure.”
Should I?
Yes. “Why’d you hit Caleb?”
“What?” Oh, like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
He looks around for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. I repeat my question, “Why did you hit Caleb that night? And then tell me to get rid of the baby?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s a long drive,” Why’s he avoiding this?
He lets out a long breath of frustration, “It’s not important, it happened and I’m ashamed of myself for acting so barbarically.”
“It is important,” I respond, feeling defensive. “You just walked in, cracked him one and left.”
“You’ve never mentioned it before,” he grits out and starts the car. “Why now?”
That’s a good question, “Because I’ve been too busy dealing with my grief to think about anything else. I’d like to know.”
“My brother betrayed my trust, I asked him to do something for me and instead he chose to let me down after swearing to me it would be done,” he responds cryptically and now I want to know even more. “That’s it.”
“What did he swear to you he’d do?”
“Honestly, Guinevere, I really don’t want to talk about this,” he looks agitated, I feel agitated.
“You don’t trust me?”
His face hardens, “I don’t trust anyone.”
Ouch. “Kay.”
“Don’t take it personally,” he sighs like I’m being ridiculous by feeling a little bit sad over this. “Trust is earned over time, not given freely on request.”