by T L Swan
“In South Africa.”
He writes something down on a piece of paper. “Do you know where?” he asks softly.
“He has an aunt who will know. Her number is in his apartment in Washington.”
He stands to leave the room.
“Joshua?” I call. He turns back. “Can you secure me a burial plot there beside his, please?”
His jaw clenches as his eyes hold mine. “You want to be buried in South Africa?”
I nod softly. “With Ben.”
I look around at my beautiful family, and I know I need to do this sooner or later. “This isn’t the circumstances that I wanted to tell you all this,” I murmur.
Brock’s sad eyes meet mine.
I smile softly at the memory of that perfect day. “Ben and I got married.”
I watch the frowns grow on their faces as their eyes stay fixed on me.
I put my hand over my stomach. “And I found out this week that I’m pregnant.”
Tash’s face creases in pain, and Joshua drops his head, his eyes filling with tears before he rushes from the room.
Mum begins to cry at the table and Adrian puts his head in his hands.
The full extent of what Ben will miss out on is devastating for all who loved him.
The happy ending he never got to have.
I stand, void of emotion. “I’m going to go and lie down now.” I walk back into my room on autopilot and stare at the wallpaper again.
Make the pain stop.
“Bridget.” Brock comes out of the kitchen with my phone. “It’s the United States Army. They want to talk to you.”
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mrs. Statham. This is Corporal Martin. My deepest condolences.”
“Thank you,” I reply flatly.
“I’m just calling to confirm where you wanted your husband’s body delivered to.”
I stare at Brock, unable to process the corporal’s question.
“Are you there, Mrs. Statham? He will be given a funeral in the United States with full honours, but we will release his body to wherever you want it.”
I frown as my eyes drop to the carpet. “Can I let you know tomorrow, please? We’re trying to tie up funeral arrangements, right now,” I whisper.
“Of course. I will call you tomorrow.”
I hang up and look at the pile of photographs of Ben on the table in front of me as I organise his service.
“Joshua?”
“Yeah,” he replies softly from his seat beside me.
“Can you organise the funeral to be filmed, please?”
Brock and Joshua exchange looks.
“I want the baby to be able to watch it one day.
Joshua drops his head. “Of course,” he whispers.
I walk through the shops with Mum and Tash. They’ve dragged me out of the house. They’re trying so hard to cheer me up, and I’m trying so hard to be brave like Ben would have wanted.
I want him to be proud of me.
We’ve been for cake, but I needn’t have bothered.
I’ve lost my sense of taste… smell… life.
We walk past a toy store and something catches my eye.
A Buzz Lightyear figure.
I freeze on the spot and stare at it for a moment. It’s funny that I should see this now. I’ve never seen this toy before. I frown as I stare at it and I walk into the shop without thought.
He’s all shiny, strong, and good. I press the button on his hand. The voice cries out, “To infinity and beyond!”
I smile and pick him up to take him to the counter.
“What are you doing?” Tash whispers.
“I’m buying my baby his first toy.”
I blow out a breath and take a look at myself in the mirror. I’ve got cabin fever.
I need to get out. I need to get away.
I walk out into the living room and everyone looks up in surprise.
“I’m going to the gym,” I announce.
They exchange looks. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come with you,” Tash says as she begins to stand. “Can I wear some of your gym clothes?”
I lift my chin defiantly. “Thanks, but I want to go alone.”
“Bridget…” Brock interrupts.
I hold my hand up. “Thank you all for the—” I pause to get my wording right. “Pity party we’ve got going on here, but I need to get on with it now. I have a baby to get ready for. You can go home now, please. I want to be alone.”
They all watch me.
I pick up my gym bag and walk to the door.
“Thanks for coming, everyone. Go home. I’m fine. I’ll call you all tomorrow.” I walk out the door and downstairs into my car, and then I drive out of the underground parking lot.
It’s pouring rain and my windscreen wipers are going fast.
I put the radio on and concentrate on the road.
Ben loved the rain.
I smile.
We made out against his car in the rain one day, all those years ago, because he wanted to feel the rain on his face.
The song ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran comes on, and I listen to the lyrics as my eyes fill with tears.
Our wedding song.
And suddenly this burning rage fills me. I’m mad. Furious. I punch the steering wheel.
“Why did you leave me?” I cry. “If you were going to leave me anyway, why did you come back?” I can’t see the road anymore through my tears and I pull over.
He didn’t mean to leave me. This wasn’t his choice.
What if he heard that? What if thinks I blame him?
Why did I say that?
I feel guilty and begin to sob, howl-to-the-moon crying. My shoulders bounce up and down.
I screw up my face in pain. “Sorry,” I cry. “I’m so sorry, Ben.” I drop my head to the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry. Why did you die? I can’t do this.”
The passenger door opens, and I look up to see Joshua jump into the car.
He gets how I feel more than anyone. He’s been here.
My eyes search his. “Joshua,” I whisper.
“I know, baby,” he whispers as he wraps me in his arms and holds me. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling.
Destiny is a strange thing.
Six weeks ago, I had a normal life, a job, a future.
Now, I’m a pregnant war widow.
There are no tears left. I’m an empty vessel.
Broken beyond repair.
I’m thinking back to the time with Ben, when I would lie on his chest and he would ask about my day.
He was always all about me, never about him.
Why didn’t I make it more about him?
I go over conversations that we had, and they all seemed to revolve around Ben asking me how I was, asking me what I wanted, desperate to know if I was happy. Did I have what I needed? He never put himself first.
But what did he need from me?
So many regrets.
Is he with me now?
Is he watching over me?
“Show yourself.”
If I can’t have his body, I want his ghost here with me.
“Give me a sign that you’re still with me,” I whisper into the silence.
No answer.
Brock comes in with my phone. “Sis, it’s the army again.”
I roll my eyes and take the phone. Joshua has worked out a funeral plan for me to give them.
“Hello, Mrs. Statham.”
“Yes.”
“This is Commander Jenkins in Syria.”
“Hello,” I whisper.
“I’m afraid I have more news for you.”
“Okay.”
“Are you sitting down?”
My heart skips a beat; the hairs on the back of my neck rise from their slumber to pay attention. “W-Why?”
“He’s alive.”
26
Bridget
“What?” I frown.
/>
“There’s been a terrible mistake. He turned up, alive, at a camp in Syria.”
My heart starts to race. “Wh—?”
“His dog chains were torn from him during an altercation just a few days prior. Another solider retrieved them and had them on him upon his return. That soldier was in the truck with civilians when the landmine hit it. We found the dog chains, and with so many bodies involved, it was assumed Ben was one of them.”
“He’s… he’s alive?” I whisper.
Brock’s face is disbelieving.
“He is, and he’s asked to fly straight to Australia instead of being taken to the States.”
My eyes search Brock’s. “He’s alive,” I repeat.
“Ben will be retuning on an Australian army cargo plane, and his flight should be landing at the Sydney army barracks at approximately eleven hundred hours.”
“Eleven hundred hours,” I repeat. “Sydney army barracks.”
Brock nods as he gets the instructions.
“Is he… okay?” I whisper.
“He’s fine, ma’am. He’s fine. Looking forward to getting home to his family.”
I laugh as tears fill my eyes. After a brief conversation and some goodbyes, I hang up.
“He’s alive!” I cry, and I run out into the living room. “He’s alive!” I scream to everyone.
They all look at me, deadpan, not understanding.
“It’s… it’s true,” Brock stammers. “I heard the whole conversation. Ben is alive.”
The room breaks out in jubilee, and everyone cheers and laughs. Natasha starts to cry and hugs me.
“Fucking Statham,” Joshua snaps. “I’m going to kill that cunt again tomorrow for putting us through this.”
“Joshua!” my mother gasps.
Joshua’s face falls as he realises he just used the C-word in front of his mother-in-law. “Sorry,” he murmurs shamefully.
She laughs. “Get in line, Joshua, get in line.”
I stand on the tarmac and bounce as the plane lands. We’ve been here for half an hour.
Everyone came.
Three carloads.
The hatch slowly winds down, and my heart is in my throat as I wait.
Where is he, where is he?
He comes into view, wearing his full army camouflage, walking down the ramp. I start to run towards him. Slowly at first, and then I run and run, and he laughs, catching me before I knock him off his feet. Ben holds me in his arms.
“Ben!” I cry.
He lifts me so that my legs are off the ground, and we stand in an embrace on the tarmac in the middle of a crowded airport.
“I’m here, angel. I’m here,” he whispers into my hair as he holds me tight.
He has a short beard and looks a little worse for wear, but other than that he is absolutely perfect.
I hold his face in my hands and I run my thumbs through his whiskers as I stare at his beautiful face. I pat his chest and his arms. “Are you okay?” My eyes search his.
“I am now.”
Our lips touch as he holds me tight, and our friends, who all stand behind us, cheer.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Marry me,” he moans as he holds me off the ground.
He’s so strong and perfect.
My eyes fill with tears. “Now?” I smile. “You’re asking me now?”
“Yes, now.” He smiles.
“Yes,” I laugh, and he embraces me again. I pull back to look at him. “Ben?” I whisper up at him.
“What, angel?” He smiles down at me.
“I’m pregnant.”
His eyes search mine. “What?”
“You’re going to be a father.”
I grab his hand and place it on my stomach, and he frowns. “Are you serious?”
I nod as tears rain down my face.
He picks me up and twirls me around, causing us both to laugh out loud.
Our friends approach us from behind, and he lets me go for a moment. Mum kisses him. “Oh, Ben,” she whispers as she holds him.
He cuddles Tash and Adrian, and then he turns to the boys.
Joshua punches him hard in the arm. “That’s for fucking stressing me out, prick.”
Ben laughs, and shakes his hand, and then turns to Brock.
Brock shakes his head as he fights his tears. Ben grabs him into an embrace and they hug.
No words are needed.
Our man is home.
The steam from the shower fills the room, but we aren’t under the water.
Ben has me pinned against the basin as he kisses me, his hand holding my jaw to guide me where he wants. It’s as if his domination over my body has revved up ten levels. Maybe it’s because he knows his baby is inside of me. Maybe it’s just him, and I have a new appreciation for the power he holds.
He lifts my dress over my shoulders and tosses it aside, his lips dusting my neck.
My man is here to take care of me.
He undoes my bra and his hand cups my breast. He kneads it in his hand and frowns slightly.
“I’m swollen,” I whisper.
His eyes flicker with deep arousal as they find mine. “What else is swollen?”
I smile against his lips as he takes them aggressively. Jesus.
He slides my panties down my legs and his fingers slide between my thighs. He closes his eyes in approval. “My girl is wet,” he whispers.
My eyes close. I swear, he could just talk to me in his deep, accented voice and I would come.
His hand drops to my stomach and he splays his fingers out across my skin in wonder. “Our baby,” he mutters, almost to himself. He frowns and then looks up at me. “Can we…?”
I smile as I take his lips in mine. “Of course we can.”
“How rough?” he asks as he bites my neck with aggression.
I smile and my eyes roll back in my head. Oh, hell. Who cares? “Very rough. It needs to be rough. The doctor said very rough,” I lie, distracted.
He chuckles, and slowly takes his shirt off over his shoulders.
My face falls. He’s bruised and completely battered.
“Ben,” I whisper.
“I’m okay,” he assures me softly. “It’s just superficial, nothing like your wounds.”
My eyes fill with tears.
He dusts the backs of his fingers down my face as he studies me. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It was unfair.”
I put my hand over my stomach. “I thought you died. I thought I was going to have to bring up our baby alone.”
He puts his hand over mine on my stomach. “I’m here now. I’m going to look after both of you now, angel.”
I slide his pants down and drop to my knees in front of him.
I need him.
I need to worship every damn part of this body I grieved for.
He inhales sharply as I take him deep into my mouth.
“Good girl,” he groans, stroking my hair. I pump him with my hand, and while I suck he watches on. The ripples in his stomach clench when he flexes.
He pulls out of my mouth and sits on the side of the bathtub on the step, lifting my legs so that I’m straddling him.
I frown.
“I can’t be trusted not to hurt you. You have to ride me,” he says carefully as he kisses my stomach. He puts some saliva into his hand and smears it though my flesh.
A frown crosses my face.
His eyes darken. “I don’t want you warmed up.”
“What?” I whimper.
“If I have to be gentle, then I want you to feel every fucking inch.”
My insides begin to melt and I straddle him.
He positions himself underneath me and pulls me down by my hipbones.
I wince. It’s tight.
“Rock,” he commands.
I rock from side to side, and he watches me struggle to take him with smug satisfaction on his face. His hands stay on my hips, but he doesn’t guide me at all.
He smiles darkl
y as his eyes stay focused on my sex. “Can you feel the burn, baby?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“I want you to give it to yourself.”
I begin to get frantic as I rock down to try and get him in.
“Kiss me.” He grabs me by the hair and drags my face to his. He bites my bottom lip and stretches it out. “You open up that beautiful cunt and you take your husband’s cock.” He bites me again. “Deep.”
I moan as I rock.
Oh, God, he’s so fucking hot.
“Now, Bridget,” he growls. “Now.” He bites me harder. “Bring me home.”
I slam down onto him and he grabs my hipbones and begins to pump me, slow and deep. I try to lift and slam, but he stops me.
“Not too rough,” he growls.
Fuck it… don’t tell me he’s going to be like this for nine months.
“Ben,” I groan. “I need it harder.”
“Naughty girl,” he scolds darkly yet sweetly, and he lifts me. “My naughty girl likes to be fucked hard.” He steps into the shower and holds me up against the wall with my legs around his waist.
Then he’s riding me, deep and slow, and I’m going out of my mind here. I thrash beneath him and he smiles darkly as he watches on.
Completely in control.
I’m like a caged animal underneath him.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it. I convulse around him as I reach my climax, and he pumps me harder to get me through it. I whimper into his mouth.
His eyes flicker and he pulls out to sit down on the floor.
I pant as I stand above him.
He pats his lap and I squat over him before he slides back in, deep.
“I can’t be trusted not to hurt you,” he whispers.
His lips take mine.
“Fuck me,” he growls. “Fuck me now.”
Oh, God.
Back and forth, back and forth, deeper and deeper.
It goes and on and, oh God, it’s so good.
His eyes close and he temporarily loses it as he slams me onto him, then he cries out as he comes in a rush, deep inside of me.
He kisses me, smiling through it, and subtly shakes his head. “Rick was right,” he whispers.
“Huh?” I pant.
“Pregnant sex is next level.”
I giggle and drop my head to his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”