Come to Me Softly

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Come to Me Softly Page 26

by A. L. Jackson


  Rapidly I blinked, shaking my head. “It’s fine, Megan. I’m not mad.”

  Because on the outside, I knew Jared appeared a little bit scary.

  A frown cut across my forehead and tugged at my mouth because I wasn’t entirely sure the exterior was what Megan was referring to. “Do you really feel that way, though? Are you afraid of him?”

  She shrugged and busied her hands with folding. “No, I’m not afraid of him. It’s just…” Her attention cut toward me while she seemed to weigh a way to say what she was thinking. “You know I’ve always thought he was different… thought he makes you different. He just makes me uneasy sometimes.”

  She lifted her face. Honesty shined in her wide blue eyes. “I don’t know what it is, Aly. And please don’t get me wrong. I like him. I really do. He loves you like crazy and treats you like a princess. Who doesn’t want that for their best friend? But there’s something about him that sets me off kilter. I try to ignore it…” She cringed, then blew out a concerned breath. “But there’s a pressure in the room when he’s there. It’s like there’s a silent warning radiating from him. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I keep waiting for a bomb to go off.”

  I nodded and tried to swallow over the sudden fear that crawled to my throat. The thing was, it wasn’t really all that sudden. I wasn’t immune to that pressure, either. Of course I felt it.

  Over time, it’d only increased.

  “He is different, Megan.”

  Stilling, she fully turned her regard to me. “Does it worry you?”

  I occupied my hands by placing the stack of tiny receiving blankets into the crib, where I was storing them until I got a dresser. Turning around, I leaned up against the crib. “Am I afraid of him or worry he’ll hurt me?” I shook my head. “No.” Not physically, anyway. “But I know what you’re talking about.”

  Fidgeting, I looked to my feet before I lifted my gaze to her. “I love him so much, Megan. Too much,” I clarified, because somehow I really needed to voice it. “He’s still in so much pain. But he’s trying to ignore it. To pretend like everything is okay when it most definitely is not okay. He dreams…” Slowly I shook my head as I trailed off. “It’s awful, Megan. He wakes up shaking… so scared and angry. It’s almost like he’s disoriented and he’s not sure where he is.”

  Sickness flipped my stomach inside out. Those nights hurt me so much because I knew he was hurting. They also scared me. It was when anxiety wrapped him so tight he almost couldn’t be touched, even though in the moment he was so desperate to feel.

  It’d been getting worse since he proposed. He always seemed on edge. Or maybe it was that Jared was the edge. The sharpest blade. Ready to strike down everything and anything that threatened to expose the pain he harbored inside.

  But he’d kept it sheathed, covering it up as he dove into our relationship, pouring everything into us – into this house and me and work and plans for the baby – without regard for everything that happened in the past.

  The entire time, that edge had been sharpening.

  “Every time I bring it up, he shuts me down. He just wants to focus on what’s good in our lives right now.” I waved my hand around the room. “And we have so much to be thankful for. We do, and I love it and I love him… and there is no question that he loves me. But it’s like he’s hanging on to me so tightly, I’m worried he’s going to squeeze the life out of us.”

  Wringing my hands, I shifted and stared down at my friend, who watched me with sympathetic understanding. “I just want to help him, Megan, help him heal and finally forgive himself.”

  Her brow creased. “You don’t think he forgave himself before he came back? I figured that was the only way he returned.”

  I shook my head, sure of this truth. “No. He shunned it. He wanted me so much he was willing to live with the guilt in order to stay with me.”

  But I knew, in my spirit and in my heart, that would never be enough.

  The next evening, Jared barreled through the front door. At the counter in the kitchen, I stood facing out the window that looked over the backyard, furiously chopping the vegetables for the salad. Over my shoulder, I glanced at him.

  Jared bit back a suggestive smile as he stalked forward. He pressed his body to my back. My entire body sighed.

  “Damn, baby, it smells delicious in here. What are you making?”

  “I made homemade meatballs… my family is coming over tonight for dinner. Remember?”

  And by my family, I meant everyone, my father included.

  What had brought on the change, I didn’t know. I’d fretted the entire day about it. Part of me wanted to reject the idea of him coming here, to denounce his attempts at reconciling our injured relationship. The truth was, I’d been shocked, stunned by my father’s actions. Above all of that, I’d been hurt. But I’d never been one to harbor hate, and I knew I at least owed him the chance to make his intentions known.

  “Of course I remember,” Jared murmured at my neck. His nose lifted a flash of goose bumps where he nuzzled my sensitive skin. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I’ve got everything set. I just need to finish up this salad and everything is done. Why don’t you go grab a shower?”

  He pecked me against the cheek. “Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

  “Mmhmm… maybe,” I teased, turning my head to catch him at the throat, my nose and my mouth and my smile pressed there. He smelled of dirt and wood and hard work. His soft, stuttered breath was minty, mixed with the lingering hint of cigarettes. Not for a second was it unappealing. Everything about Jared screamed Man. One delicious, gorgeous man.

  I hummed.

  A knowing chuckle reverberated at my back, and he held me close. “I love you, Aly Moore.”

  Playfully, Jared rocked us. “When are we going to change that name of yours, anyway?”

  I giggled and lost myself in this Jared, the one who was carefree and whose words flowed with ease and eyes shined with light. The one who chased swarms of butterflies through the fields of my belly, stirred them up with the steady stroke of his hand and the tempting tenor of his voice.

  “Don’t you want to wait until I don’t have to waddle down the aisle?”

  Jared scoffed. “Waddle? You are insane. You still have no idea, do you? How absolutely stunning you are?” Jared palmed the front of my thighs. “These legs.” This time it was Jared’s turn to hum. “No… I don’t want to wait… just want to make you mine. Forever.”

  “I already am yours,” I contended, grinning, letting him know I was playing even though I was one hundred percent serious. I’d told him again and again. Jared held me in the palm of his hand. Eternally.

  Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t wait to be his wife.

  Mine and Megan’s conversation from yesterday intruded my thoughts. I shoved it down. With Jared here… like this? I didn’t want to be scared, didn’t want to be afraid of what he had the power to destroy.

  “It’s beautiful in March… maybe sometime in the middle?” I suggested through the bundle of emotion that made itself known right in the center of my chest.

  “March,” he reiterated on a murmur that was utterly profound.

  Jared and I had just set our wedding date.

  He left me with a searing kiss before heading into our bathroom to get cleaned up for dinner.

  Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

  I dried off my hands, tossed the hand towel to the counter, and ambled to the door. I opened it to my parents and Aug.

  I did my best to ignore the unease that so clearly clung to my father’s being.

  Instead, I set my attention on my mom. Her hair was sleek and straight, blonder than the last time I saw her. She wore a pair of skinny jeans and heels, topping it off with a cream-colored sweater and a deep plum infinity scarf twisted snugly around her neck.

  I stepped forward and threw my arms around her. She squeezed and rocked me.

  “Are you trying to make me
look bad?” I asked when I pulled away.

  She rolled her warm brown eyes. “Hardly.” She let her gaze slide down to my belly while she talked, not hesitating to place her hands on it. “I would’ve killed to look like you when I was pregnant. I was a house. Ask your father.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “He slept on the couch for the last two months each time because my stomach took up the entire bed.”

  He grumbled behind her, although his mouth hinted at a smile. “I think you need to check your memory, Karen, because it had nothing to do with the size of your stomach. You complained the entire time that I was hogging the bed. You ran me off.”

  She waved offhandedly. “Semantics.”

  Laughing, I stepped back and widened the door. “Come on in, you guys.”

  Mom came in, stalling in appreciation in the middle of the room. “Oh my God, Aly… this place is… unbelievable.”

  She hadn’t been over for a couple of weeks. Not since Jared had added all of his elegant touches. Everything had come together cohesively and seamlessly. Jared had turned what would have been a simple, comfortable house into something memorable and unique.

  It truly was gorgeous.

  “It is, isn’t it?” I murmured.

  Aug came inside and gave me a less than stellar one-armed hug. I tugged his headphones from his ears and slugged him in the arm. “Hey, can’t you take these out long enough to say hi to your sister? And give her a real hug?”

  He shrugged with a dimpled smile and wrapped me up in one of his bear hugs. “Of course I can.”

  “Much better.”

  With a smirk, he stepped back, working a single ear bud back into his ear while he spoke. “And believe me, I could hear just fine. I should have turned it up… the last thing I need to hear are the words Mom, Dad, and bed in the same sentence.”

  Mom rolled her eyes again. “You’re so dramatic, Aug, and you have no right to talk. If I have to watch you get that look on your face while reading a text ever again, I might puke. Don’t think I didn’t notice that on the way over here.”

  Guilt colored my brother’s face, and he shifted through his laughter. “I swear, you’re some kind of freaky ninja spy.” Exasperated, Aug glanced at me. “She has to have eyes in the back of her head or something,” he said as he wandered the rest of the way inside.

  Mom lifted a telling brow. “Keep it up, and you can make it ninja assassin. How I ended up with two boys who don’t understand the meaning of virtue, I’ll never know. You and Christopher need to start taking some pointers from your dad before you send your poor old mother here to her grave.”

  Mom and Dad had been together forever, and I knew she was none too impressed with my brothers’ romantic hijinks.

  The worst of them rumbled up in his truck. Christopher pulled to the curb in front of my house and hopped from the cab. Raking a hand through his messy hair, he sauntered up to the door on his long stride. “Hi, Dad.” He clapped our dad on the shoulder, angled around him to place a quick kiss to my temple. “Hey there, little sister.”

  “Hey, you. Glad you could make it.”

  He crossed the threshold and went straight for Mom. He dropped a kiss to her cheek. Then he sniffed the air. “Holy shit, Aly, did you magically learn how to cook since I left earlier today? It smells like a fucking gourmet restaurant in here.”

  Like always, he made himself at home. He walked directly into the kitchen and ducked into the fridge for a beer.

  “Don’t act like I didn’t spend the last two years cooking for you.”

  He stood up and twisted the cap from his bottle. “Ha, bringing home to-go boxes from the diner does not count as cooking.”

  Shaking my head, I laughed. “Watch yourself or I’m going to make you eat the leftovers that have been sitting in the fridge for the last week.”

  “Not on your life. I have dibs on firsts… whatever you’re making, my mouth is watering.”

  Reluctantly, I turned from the lightheartedness of the rest of my family to my dad, who still hovered in the shadows outside. He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. Agitation billowed from him in waves.

  I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

  Never in the nearly two months that Jared and I had lived here had my father stepped foot inside our house. And I could count the number of words that had been spoken between us… on my right hand. A quiet hostility and an outright sadness had clouded all the moments we’d shared, which had been few and even farther between. I hadn’t seen him since Christmas morning. I’d gone for the shortest time, reluctant to leave Jared on the holiday but drawn to my parents’ home all the same.

  I’d asked Jared just to forget what my father thought. To go. For me. But that request was good for only one redemption. He still felt he was honoring my father’s wishes by staying away, even as, at the same time, he was proving him wrong by taking care of me.

  Going to my parents’ house without Jared had stung. He was my family. I’d gone only to save my mother from the hurt she would feel in my absence. She’d even attempted to convince Jared to come, but he wouldn’t have it.

  Now I wasn’t exactly sure what had drawn my father to my door today. What had changed, if anything at all? Perhaps my mother had shamed him into being here. If so, then he could just go. I didn’t want him here out of obligation, and I sure as hell didn’t want him here because of guilt.

  The only explanation good enough was that he truly wanted to be here.

  Swallowing down all the anger I still felt, I took a tentative step deeper into the burly shadows of my father.

  His eyes dropped. I thought to his feet. But no. I realized he was doing his best not to look at my stomach.

  Resentment flared. It clashed with the truth of how much I missed my father. “Dad…” I choked saying it, not wanting it to sound like a plea. “Do you have any idea how happy it makes me you’re here? I’ve missed you so much.”

  Moisture filled my eyes. I swiped it away and stood my ground. “But I need to know you’re here because you want to be… because you care about me and my family and you want to be a part of it. I don’t want you to come inside if you’re just here because Mom made you come or because of any other reason than you came here to support me and Jared.”

  Dad rubbed his hand across his mouth. Disquiet shifted his feet. “How have you been feeling, Aly?”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of his question. I frowned, and frustration poured from my mouth. “Are you really going to stand there and try to change the subject? After everything that’s been said? I asked you to tell me why you’re here and I want you to be honest with me.”

  He exhaled heavily, and lifted his chin toward the door closed behind me. “I wasn’t joking when I said your mom chased me from bed when she was pregnant with you kids. She was miserable the whole time. God, I worried about her. For nine months, I ran around, trying to take care of her, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be. It made me sick that she was sick. Nervous, too. I was always worried something would go wrong, and I did anything I could to make sure that didn’t happen. I drove her crazy.” He paused, blinked toward his feet before he lifted his face back to mine. “I’ve always been protective of the people I care about. To a fault. To the extent that I can’t see past what I think is best for them.”

  Understanding dawned. It blunted the surge of anger that had pushed me out my front door to confront my dad. Still, it didn’t make what he’d said before to Jared okay.

  “I know you care about me, Dad. That you love me. But you also have to know that isn’t enough.”

  His gaze glided down to the ring I nervously twisted around my finger. For a beat, he stared, and I saw his throat bob when he swallowed. “You’re going to marry him?”

  I fisted my hand over my heart. “Yes.”

  He nodded and his eyes glistened. He blinked it away. “You wanted to know why I’m here? I’m here because I miss you. Because when I l
ie down at night, I can’t close my eyes because I know things aren’t right. My daughter will barely talk to me… barely look at me. That kills me, Aly.”

  “I’m not the one who’s responsible for that.”

  His own frustration bled into his words. “I know that. Yes, I’m here because of you and because I want to set things right between us. But I’m also here because it’s high time I apologized for the way I reacted on Thanksgiving. I had no right to do that. There is no excuse for the things I said.”

  Dismay twisted into his expression. “I was scared for you, Aly. Shocked. Blindsided by it all. One minute I think you’re going to school… happy… working toward the career you want, and the next you’re pregnant?” His voice dropped low and transformed into something that sounded like an accusation. “You gave me no warning, Aly, no indication of any of it.”

 

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