by Dori Lavelle
“But—”
“The treatment didn’t only help my legs. It improved some important functions. Do you want to give me a test drive?”
I throw my head back and laugh from the belly. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you, baby. I’m incredibly crazy about you. Now please shut the door and allow me to do something I’ve been wanting to do to you for a long time.”
Giggling, I do as I’m told and turn back to him with so much joy buried in my heart I almost can’t contain it.
I help lower him to the bed and remove his clothes. When the clothes melt from my body, Lance stops to study the upside down rose tattoo between my breasts, running the tip of his finger down the length of the thin stem. “By the way, I never pegged you for a girl who likes tattoos.”
“I have my moments when I like to experiment.”
“Well, I like this little experiment,” he whispers.
“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.” I lower my lips to his.
We kiss for what feels like forever. The man I love is here, and there’s no rush. We have all the time in the world to savor every second of our second chance. This time, he doesn’t pull my hand away when I touch him, encircle my hand around him. A shudder of excitement passes through me when he hardens between my fingers.
Our lips are locked in a kiss when I finally climb on top of him and allow him to enter me. We both gasp at the rush of electricity that shoots through us the moment we connect at a deeper, more intimate level. But still, we take our time.
A moment before I come, Lance moves his lips to my ear and whispers, “Marry me, Alice Dupuis. Don’t spend another second without me in your life.” He grabs my bottom and pushes deeper into me.
I don’t need to think about it.
“Oh, my God. Yes, yes,” I scream as I ride him faster and harder, his hands tight on my ass, tears blurring my vision. The orgasm and his proposal make both our worlds spin.
Wasting no time after our engagement, Lance and I fly to Las Vegas three days later. We only tell our friends and families after exchanging vows. Marrying in Vegas was fun, and we wanted it to be just us. I don’t care how much more time I have with Lance, whether it’s a day, a week, a month, a year or forever. I’ll cherish every moment as Mrs. Alice LaClaire. He was worth the wait.
25
Lance
Alice inhales sharply and turns to face me, eyes clouded by pain, face glistening with sweat. “Get out of here,” she whispers but still holds on tight to my hand.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I rake a hand through my disheveled hair. “How could you ask me to miss even a moment of our daughter entering this world?”
The smile on her face replaces the grimace of labor. “Mon chérie, you’ve been in here for three hours straight. Go grab a coffee or something.” She sighs. “The way I’m feeling, this could take a while.”
My gaze flickers to the midwife, whose head appears from between Alice’s bent knees. She nods in my direction. “Your wife is right. Take a small break.”
My gaze returns to Alice’s face. She’s still smiling, her features softened by her love for me and the little miracle we created who’s about to enter the world.
It’s been eleven months since I asked her to be my wife, and she made me the happiest man in this world. Eleven months spent dancing in the rain, floating in the clouds, swimming in the sea, and dining in the dark. Every day I love her more than the day before.
But I’ve never loved her more than I love her now, watching her go through so much pain to make me a father. Months ago, I could never have imagined having a child. I was wrong, as I was wrong about so many things.
“Go on.” Another wave of labor engulfs her and her body folds forward. I reluctantly let go of her hand and wheel myself away from the bed. Even though I can stand for short periods of time and even take a few steps on my good days, my wheelchair is still the place I spend most of my time. Instead of hating it as I had done in the past, I have started appreciating it for giving me the opportunity to be mobile. It no longer hinders me from living the kind of life I’ve always dreamed of.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” I return to her bedside, wipe a sheen of sweat from her forehead, and plant a kiss between her eyebrows. She tenses as another bolt of pain hits her. Not for the first time, I wish I could take her place, shoulder the pain instead of her.
“Go.” Her words are said between gritted teeth. “Before I change my mind.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back. I love you as always.” I pause. “I hope she has your eyes.”
“I hope she has your dimples.” She blows me a kiss.
Making my way down the hallway outside the delivery room, the sound of her screams tears me apart. I’m tempted to go back, but she’s right. I’m a mess. In order to help her, to be strong for her, I must take care of myself.
I grab a coffee that’s a little too burned for my taste and stop by the waiting room, where I left Bryant, three hours ago.
He’s still in the chair by the door where I’d left him, but he’s no longer the only person in the room. Our other brothers, Neal, Caleb, and Derrick have joined him.
A smile warms my face when they all stand up to greet and congratulate me.
“I’m actually glad you’re all here,” I say, downing the rest of my tasteless coffee and tossing the paper cup into the bin. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a couple of months now.”
“What about?” Bryant closes the laptop balanced on his knees.
“I owe you guys an apology. I’ve been a jerk to all of you for far too long.”
Caleb pats me on the back. “You have apologized to us already. A few times, in fact.”
“I know.” I pull in a breath. “But I wanted to do it when you’re all in one place. I hope you understand that whatever I did was because I was hurt. I couldn’t see straight.”
“All in the past now, bro.” Bryant waves a dismissive hand. “Let it go. Let your little girl be the symbol for a new beginning.”
“Bryant is right,” Neal adds, lowering himself back into his chair and stretching out his long legs. “Besides, your happiness makes up for all of it. That’s all we ever wanted for you.”
I glance at each of them in turn. “I feel like an ass for not even having time to catch up on all your lives. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own.”
“Allow me to fill you in. I’ll keep it short.” Caleb folds his arms in front of his chest. “I think Neil is seeing someone, Derrick found a letter from Mom, one addressed to him.” He clears his throat. “And Bryant and Grace are expecting another baby.”
My eyes are wide by the time he’s done. “Wow. I missed a lot.” I puff out a breath. “Fine, let’s start with Neal.” I shoot him a glare. “How dare you not tell us you’re dating again?”
Like most of us, Neal had gone through a major tragedy. Since losing his wife and child in a mall shooting, he found it hard to attach himself to another woman. He’s been involved with women over the years, but none of them stayed long enough to snatch his heart. “Is it serious?”
“Time will tell. We only had a coffee, for God’s sake.” Neal shrugs. “I’d tell you more, but today is about you. Let’s meet up for lunch next week when you take a break from changing diapers, and we can have a talk.”
“All right, then.” My gaze lingers on Neal’s face for a beat before moving to Derrick’s. “What did the letter say? Did Mom explain why she turned her back on Brooke?”
“Apparently there was a girl in school, one of my—”
“Many lovers?” Bryant cracks up.
“You’re one to talk.” Derrick gives him a friendly swat on the arm. “Anyway, her name was Sade Daniels. Apparently, her mother showed up, claiming I got her daughter pregnant. She demanded that Mom should give her thousands of dollars or she’d drag the LaClaire name in the mud.”
“You’re kidding, right? She blackmailed her?” I swipe a hand across my mouth.
“No kidding. In return, Mom demanded a paternity test.” Derrick inhales sharply. “Turns out, I wasn’t the baby’s daddy after all. When Brooke later also claimed to be pregnant from me, Mom suspected the same thing.”
“That makes sense. Rich kids get blackmailed all the time. As busy as we all were in school, I’m surprised it didn’t happen more often.” I rake a hand through my hair. “What I don’t understand is, why didn’t she do another paternity test? And why not tell you?”
“I’ll never understand why she didn’t tell me, but she admitted she wrote the letter because she felt guilty. She also said she wanted to do a test to be sure, but she couldn’t track down Brooke.” Derrick pinches the bridge of his nose. “And as we know, she died not too long after.”
“Knowing all that, how do you feel about Mom now? You were pretty upset about what she did. We all were.”
“You know what?” Derrick moves to the window and stares out. “Of all the things Mom did wrong, there’s one thing she did right.” He turns to face us. “She chose me to be her son. She loved me. That’s why she did what she did. I’ll leave it at that.”
“Yeah,” I say and everyone nods. “I’m glad you at least got some kind of explanation.”
“So am I.” Derrick sits again. “Now stop bugging me and move on to Bryant. He deserves an ass whooping for not telling us we’re going to be uncles again.”
“He sure does.” I narrow my eyes at my twin brother, who’s all smiles. “How far along is she?”
“Ten weeks. I wanted to wait until your baby was born so ours doesn’t steal the show.” He winks.
Gripping the sides of the wheelchair for support, I pull myself to my feet, swaying slightly. Bryant rises from his chair to assist me, but instead of holding on to him, I give him a hug. “Such awesome news. I’m so happy for you both.” I pull away but keep my hands on his shoulders. “And I’m glad you’re all here to celebrate this beautiful moment with me and Alice.”
“How could we miss the birth of another LaClaire miracle?” Neal adds. “It’s a good thing you’re settled in Boston now. We’ll all get to see each other more.”
“True that.” I sink back into the wheelchair. “Guys, I better get back to my wife. She needs me.”
Before I can leave the room, a nurse appears in the doorway, the good news she’s about to share with me reflected in her eyes.
Joy wells up inside me, warming me from within.
“Congratulations, Mr. LaClaire. You’re the father of a sweet, healthy little girl.”
The room explodes with cheers and joyous laughter, but my brothers would have to congratulate me properly later. I need to see the one person who worked incredibly hard to bring so much joy into my life.
I follow the nurse back to the delivery room, but before we reach the door, it bursts open and a doctor in scrubs exits. His face grows tense when he sees me, and the heart that had expanded only a few minutes ago inside my chest, starts to shrink.
He doesn’t need to say a word for me to know something is wrong.
“No.” I try to get around him, to get into the room, but he stops me. “Mr. LaClaire,” he scratches the back of his neck. “There’s something you should know.”
“What happened to my baby?” My voice is a croak inside my throat.
“Can we—”
“Don’t you dare ask me to follow you to some room. Tell me right here and now.” I glance at the nurse who’s now shifting from foot to foot, the smile gone from her face. “She said the baby was healthy ... sweet.”
The doctor clears his throat. “The baby is fine, sir. But your wife ... Your wife is dead. I’m so sorry.”
In the space between his last word and the roar exploding from my chest, I hear my baby’s cry.
It’s 4 a.m. and I’m sitting on the creamy white vintage rocking chair that Alice bought in London, inside the nursery she spent two months decorating with so much love and anticipation. Baby powder smells of her still linger in the air. She spent endless hours in the room, especially toward the end of her pregnancy.
Our baby girl, Alice Rose LaClaire squirms in my arms as she sucks on the warm bottle I had prepared ten minutes ago.
I named her Alice because I was desperate to keep every piece of her mother I could get. I wanted to hear her name many times over. I wanted a piece of my wife to stay behind.
Little Alice doesn’t only have her mother’s bright blue eyes, she also inherited the wild, lively curls. My baby daughter gazes into my eyes.
My heart shatters at the thought that she’ll never feel her mother’s touch or hear her voice in person. It kills me to think my beautiful wife will never be able to watch her little girl grow up, go to school, get married, graduate, conquer the world.
For four months now, every time I wake to feed and change Alice, I feel like I’m stuck inside a dream.
Each time I expect to find Alice sitting in the rocking chair, feeding our baby. I always find nothing but her memory. She gave me the greatest gift and then she left.
The doctors said she died from sudden maternal cardiac arrest. They did everything in their power to save her, but failed. I must have punched one of the doctors moments before I passed out. When I came to, I was in denial. The denial soon turned into fury at Alice for leaving me.
She’d rescued me, taught me how to live again, then she simply walked out of my life forever. Lately, I’m just sad and broken.
As I lower Alice back into her crib, I notice a piece of paper sticking out from underneath the crib mattress. I pull out an envelope addressed to me in Alice’s handwriting.
My heart tears at the same time I rip the envelope open.
Mon chérie,
If you’re reading this, I didn’t make it back home. Something must have gone wrong. I prayed I would survive the birth of our child and come home in time to get rid of this letter. I’m so sorry that didn’t happen. I’m also sorry I kept a secret from you, a secret hidden by the tattoo on my chest.
Lance, when Audrey died, she left me her heart. In childhood, I contracted a virus that damaged my heart. At the time Audrey died, I was given two years at the most to live if I didn’t get a transplant. Audrey killed herself to save me.
I never told you about the history of my heart because I didn’t want you to take a break from living. I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. I wanted to live a full life, however long it turned out to be. I also wanted you to love me for me, not because I had Audrey’s heart beneath my breast, the heart you once loved. If you knew the truth, you would also have tried to stop me from having a baby. You know you would have.
Before we decided to have a baby, I secretly talked to doctors. I was given the green light. I’ll never know whether the complications that led to my death are related to the heart I carried, but that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I’m gone, and it breaks me to think I’ll never get to see our daughter grow up. I hope I got to hold her in my arms even for a second.
I planned to tell you after the baby was born. Unfortunately, plans have a way of not working out sometimes.
Please forgive me and know this: you brought me more joy than anyone has in my entire life. I didn’t teach you how to live again. It was the other way around.
Lance, my love, even though I’m gone, I want you to go on living. I want you to live and love, to laugh and dream, to give and take happiness. I want you to show our little girl that life is worth living no matter how hard things get.
I hope you tell her about me—about us—because the love we shared was epic. It doesn’t end with death.
Maybe it’s asking too much, but I want you to experience the love of a woman again. Give your heart another reason to beat harder. Imagining you with someone else is terribly painful, but it hurts more to imagine you spending your life alone. I hope you’ll find someone who will make you even happier than I made you. Find someone who will be a great mom to our child. Know that loving someone else doesn’t for a second dilute our
love for each other.
In the meantime, I will be right here loving you forever.
Please kiss our little angel for me. Each time you kiss her, I’ll feel it. Each time you hug her, I’ll be holding you. Each time she smiles up at you, I’ll be right behind that smile.
Farewell, my heart.
Alice
Epilogue
Two Years Later
I place a bouquet of peach roses on the white marble gravestone, then touch the tips of my fingers against my lips before pressing them to the headstone, erasing the film of dust. Pine tree- and wet earth-scented air rushes into my lungs.
“Carry me, Daddy.” I look to my side at Alice, who’s lifting her arms in the air. I scoop her from the ground and place her on my lap.
“Your mommy would have been so proud of you.” I kiss the side of her face, her curls tickling my lips. She still smells of the vanilla cookies she ate thirty minutes ago, and her bubble gum shampoo. “She was beautiful like you.”
Alice died two years ago, two of the longest, hardest years of my life. If it weren’t for our daughter, I don’t think I would have been able to pull through. Alice Rose gives me a reason every day to take the next breath.
“Mommy, Mommy. My Mommy,” Alice says.
Pulling Alice close, I find the words to say to my first real love.
“Alice, I wish you were here. Memories of you make it hard to breathe sometimes, but our daughter keeps me going. She’s a carbon copy of you. That both hurts and comforts me.”
“Mommy, Mommy,” Alice repeats, running a hand up and down my thigh.
“Alice Rose turned two today. We have a princess party planned in an hour. We wish you could join us.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek and close my eyes. “I know you wanted me to fall in love again, but I’m not quite there yet. But there’s this woman and she’s been good to me. Jia is her name. She used to help me out before I went to Crystal Lake. I mentioned her to you once.” I reach out to trace the letters of her name with a fingertip. “I can’t really pinpoint my feelings for her, but we enjoy each other’s company. She’s a good woman. She’s good to me, and she’s good to Alice.”