Hate 2 Lovers

by J. D. Hollyfield

  Twenty-four hours turned into thirty-six, but thank God Andie approved me to be on her family members list once she was conscious so I could go in to see her. That first day when I walked into her room, I thought I was going to throw the fuck up.

  My beautiful Andie.

  Mother of my child.

  Sweet love of my life.

  She was lying in the bed with bandages covering her nose, sleeping soundly. They’d given her a nasal cannula to help her with her breathing since her nose was damaged, but she was alive. I swear, the second I saw her, I went blind with rage. Had that fucker not been in police custody, I would have stopped at nothing to stab him to fucking death. If I was a thug who knew how to get people killed in jail, I’d do that too.

  But I’m just Roman.

  And all I can do is be strong for her.

  Which is why, three days later, I’m half asleep in the chair pushed up against her bed with her tiny hand in mine. She’s been sleeping heavily—which they tell me is her body’s way of healing and is good for the baby. My crystal clear blue-eyed girl would come to for a brief hazy moment, cry, and then pass back out. It was fucking heartbreaking. And Dani…dear God. Every time she shows up to check on Andie, she ends up collapsing in Ram’s arms, crying hysterically.

  My nerves are frayed and I’m freaked the fuck out. But I refuse to leave her side or waver. I will not cry or show weakness. This woman is mine and she needs me to be strong enough for all three of us.

  Her hand twitches in mine, and I blink away my fog. I watch her eyelids flutter. Each time, I hope will be the time she fully wakes up and recognizes me. They’ve long since pulled the nasal cannula but she still breathes noisily. Dr. Chisolm says that’s to be expected as her nose is still incredibly swollen.

  Blue eyes blink open and focus on me. Her brows scrunch together as she regards me, but then she winces in pain.

  “Owwwww,” she complains in a nasally voice that doesn’t sound at all like her.

  “Shhhh,” I whisper as I stand. I lean over her and kiss her bruised forehead. That fucker really did a number on her face.

  “My dose hurts,” she tells me. “Why do I dound like I’m topped up?”

  I stroke her still semi-bloody matted hair from her forehead. “You’re all bandaged up, beautiful.” I kiss her again and give her hand a squeeze. “My God, it’s so good to see your pretty eyes.”

  She attempts a smile but then winces again. Her blue eyes become liquid lakes as tears well in them. “Da baby?”

  I fight off my own tears. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

  “Molly is safe,” I assure her.

  Relief flickers in her eyes, and she tentatively pats her stomach with her free hand. “Roban?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  She releases my hand to stroke my face. “I lub you.” Her thumb swipes away a tear that escaped. “I was so scared I wouldn’t get to tell you, but it’s true. I lub you so buch.”

  I cover her hand with mine. “I know.” Then, I wink at her. “And the moment we get out of here, I’m marrying you because I love you so much it fucking hurts, and I’ll be damned if I let another doctor tell me we’re not family. We were family the moment I knocked over your best friend and you kicked me in the shin in front of that bar. We just didn’t know yet.”

  Tears roll down her temples. “Yes. I will barry you, ya big oaf.”

  I smirk. “It wasn’t a question, beautiful. It was a motherfucking statement. You’re mine and that’s all there is to say about it.”

  This earns me a smile that lights up her entire broken face. “I lub you…eben when you’re being a big-headed cabeman.”

  “I love you too.” I grunt and slap my chest. “Me Tarzan. You, Jane.”

  She shakes her head at me, but I see the Andie I know so well twinkling in her eyes. “Jane’s a cute middle nabe.”

  “Molly Jane Holloway. I love it.”

  “Andrea Holloway. I lub dat too.”

  Bring It On, Mr. Holloway

  Two months later…

  “I LOOK HUGE.”

  My soon-to-be mother-in-law clicks her tongue. “You look beautiful.”

  “I look like a fat cow. Like literally. A white fat cow. You might as well draw spots on me,” I complain as I smooth out the pretty material covering my thighs.

  Reagan and Dani laugh, while Virginia continues to play with my hair. “Honey, I told you. You look absolutely beautiful. So shush with all this crazy talk.”

  I grunt as I gently tug on the hem of my dress. “I don’t, so stop telling me I look beautiful. I look hideous and this dress is way too tight. Who even picked this out?!”

  “You did,” Dani and Reagan both reply in unison.

  I turn to give them both the evil stare down before bringing my eyes back to the mirror in front of me.

  “Honey, you look fine,” Virginia says, meeting my gaze in the mirror.

  “I look fat! I will forever remember my wedding day as the time I was a fat sausage stuffed into its too tight casing. Fat. Huge! Roman’s probably gonna run when he sees me.”

  Reagan and Dani start laughing again, and I’m half tempted to throw myself at them.

  “Stop laughing or I’m going to hurt you both.”

  “Aww,” Dani says with amusement. “We’re not laughing at you, we’re laughing with you. You just make such a cute pregnant bride. You don’t have to put up a front with us. We know you love the dress. It’s okay to admit it.”

  I’m going to kill Dani. Ratting me out. She caught me in my dress last night practically twirling around in it. I don’t hate it. I actually love it. It’s a white simple knee-length dress, with a heart shaped neckline, which Roman requested so he can see my tits. Pig. The sleeves are covered in beading and crystal, which makes the simple dress, simply dazzle.

  It’s perfect.

  I just wish I wasn’t seven months pregnant on my wedding day.

  And tired.

  And did I mention super pregnant?

  Molly has been incredibly active lately and keeping me up at night. She’s definitely going to have a big head like her daddy because it’s taking up room where my bladder should be, hence having me up three to five times a night. Good thing our fancy bathroom has heated floors so my toes don’t get cold on my frequent trips.

  The house is coming together nicely. Roman and I have spent every single weekend working on stuff, decorating and planning for Molly. He does all the heavy lifting. Well, all the lifting since he will barely allow me to take the milk out of the fridge.

  Together, we finished decorating Molly’s room. Roman, the sexy handyman he is, built a shelf to store my mom’s baby books, so I can show our little girl what an amazing grandmother she had. And just when I thought Roman couldn’t be any more perfect, he one-upped himself with one last surprise. A room that had been previously locked on the second floor is now my scrapbook room. While I was recovering, which meant lots of sleeping, Roman was keeping himself busy, building me that room. It’s equipped with everything ever made for a scrapbooking queen. Of course I cried like a baby when I saw it. I cried because it reminded me of my mom. I cried because it made me miss her and wish she were here to see it. I cried because I didn’t know how I got so lucky to have found someone so amazing.

  Roman is my heart.

  My life.

  He is the father of my child and my soon-to-be husband.

  He is what my mom told me about all those years ago.

  And I am able to admit that I finally understand.

  It wasn’t easy to get past the accident with Frank. The nightmares still plague me. When I wake up screaming or in tears, Roman holds me until I settle. I worry I am stressing out the baby, which causes me to cry more. But the doctor said it’s normal.

  Often, the guilt consumes me. Had I not been so angry about how awful he used to always treat Dani, I wouldn’t have ever provoked him in the first place. I didn’t know he’d turn full-on psycho and hunt me down. I never expected F
rank Gillson to go from pissy geek to crazy stalker, hell bent on murdering a pregnant woman. And although it was out of my control when he kicked my ass, I could have not sent him hurtling over the edge to begin with. I’ve whispered these regrets to Roman in the safety of the dark night on numerous occasions, and he always kisses it away, offering me soothing words. It’ll take a long time to get past it all.

  During the times when I feel close to a panic attack, or the memories won’t fade, I grab for one of Roman’s many music machines and talk to Molly. I sing to her, even though I sound like a dying cat. I tell her stories of my mom and some of our greatest times. I tell her all about her auntie Dani and her strange obsession with Christmas. I warn her that no matter how much she loves or despises taffy, she is going to have to eat it to make her aunt happy.

  I tell her how lucky she is for having such a wonderful grandmother, and how Virginia is going to spoil her rotten. If it’s possible for her to spoil her any more than we plan on doing.

  I’m learning to be okay on my own again. During the first couple of weeks, Roman wouldn’t let me out of his sight, which I was perfectly okay with. I would jump at my own shadow, throwing myself into a complete panic attack.

  However, I knew I needed to overcome the fear. I wouldn’t let Frank win. I allowed Roman to arm me with Mace and a Taser. He put every single tracker available on my phone and almost convinced me to put a video camera in a necklace. Key note almost. I needed to stand on my own two feet. And if I didn’t start soon, I never would.

  Frank was convicted of attempted murder, breaking and entering, the whole shebang. Too bad for him, when the idiot tackled me, the gun went off and he shot his own damn self in the shoulder. Based on the police report, my apartment resembled a blood bath, but thankfully, it wasn’t all from me. The sickness in my stomach never leaves when I think of how much worse it could have been.

  Roman refused to let me go back there. He had my entire apartment packed up, cleaned, and paid my landlord for the remainder of my lease.

  It took some time to be able to look at myself in the mirror. That asshole did a number on my nose. I wouldn’t consider myself a vain person, but when your nose is a size bigger with two black eyes, it tends to freak you out a bit. I won’t lie when I say that a few times, catching myself in a mirror while going to the bathroom, I screamed thinking it was someone else, sending Roman barreling into the bathroom naked and half asleep, like a warrior ready to kill anyone in my path.

  Thankfully, the swelling and bruising are gone, and I’m looking more like my old self. I’ve inherited some nasal issues, which haven’t been so pretty. Roman tries to mess with me and tell me that I’ve started snoring. After Molly is born, I’ll probably have to consider surgery to remove the swollen tissue.

  Roman kept his word about making us a family, and once I was released, he put a ring on my finger. Knowing I wasn’t about all the bells and whistles of a wedding, he kept it simple. Well he kept the wedding band simple. He played dumb when he slipped a gigantic diamond on my finger. We both laughed when the band refused to slide past my swollen knuckle, and after we made the sweetest love ever known to man, he took me shopping for a simple white gold chain so I could still kinda sorta wear my engagement ring.

  I didn’t want a big wedding, and Roman was okay with that. He said he didn’t need one, as long as he had me.

  I was thankful he was in agreement, because I couldn’t even fathom going through all the torture of cakes, venues, tons of flowers, and gaudy bridesmaids’ dresses. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being a part of all Dani’s planning, but it takes a special kind of person to plan a wedding. Since I’m not her, I will enjoy being on the outside of that crazy nonsense.

  Roman and I lay in bed, matching each other for who could come up with the simplest wedding plans. We went from Vegas drive-thru to a backyard barbeque. Pizza night with a priest. We even mentioned having someone we know get ordained, so we didn’t even have to hire a minister!

  We finally agreed on a simple court wedding. We were thankful for Dani and the over-the-top Christmas festival she has planned because it got Virginia off our backs about doing the same. She said we were giving her a grandbaby so she would allow us a pass.

  Of course just family was invited, which consisted of my dad and Lana, Virginia, Linc, Reagan, Dani, and Ram. The perfect amount of people. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Roman put a stop to having Chase at the courthouse, claiming it wasn’t a work party, but he was able to meet us afterward at Bender’s.

  As I stand here reminiscing on how I got to this day, I can’t help but feel humbled. I lived a life filled with disappointment and anger. I hated my dad for causing me to think so badly of men and love. I was willing to give up the possibility of love, marriage, and building a family because I was so afraid that it would ruin me. But with the help of the man I am about to marry, I realized that true love conquers.

  Life has taught me to forgive.

  I have finally forgiven my dad. I have so much happiness in my life that I needed to make room for all the love I was letting in. I needed to let the anger go. My dad cried when I told him I forgave him. Of course then I cried like a baby.

  The hardest part was taking the trip with him to the cemetery to visit my mom. He broke down and all the pain he was harboring poured from his mouth as he begged for her forgiveness.

  My mom was such a selfless person, that she forgave him long before she died. And I know she is looking down on me with her heart full. Her dying wish finally came true.

  “You ready?” Dani’s soft voice breaks into my thoughts. I wipe the tear from my cheek as I adjust the dress one last time.

  “Yeah. I just… I just can’t believe I’m getting married today.” It’s still super bizarre to hear that come out of my mouth.

  “And I cannot wait for you to become a Holloway. My baby boy out there is one lucky man. He’s been searching for someone like you his whole life,” Virginia hums from behind me. I turn and wrap my arms tightly around her neck.

  “Thank you,” I whisper into her ear.

  I hear her sniffle, but I ignore it and continue to hold her tight.

  “No, thank you, dear. You do know that once you two are married, he’s your problem. When that boy gets sick, boyyyeeeee, he’s a handful. Good luck to you, child.” She giggles and when I pull away to ask her to explain, and fast, the door opens, and all three girls jump in front of me.

  “Calm down. It’s just me.” Ram sticks his head into the private room we’ve been holed up in while they dressed and primped me. “I hope you ladies are ready, because the groom is about to go all caveman and drag his bride-to-be out of here if she doesn’t hurry up.”

  We all start to laugh while Ram blows his fiancée a kiss and shuts the door.

  “All right ladies,” I tell them with a confident grin. “It’s go time.”

  As we exit the small room, I notice Roman instantly. His large frame is pacing the hallway, until he sees me. He stops in his tracks, taking me in. A tightness in my chest forms at how handsome he looks, dressed in a simple black suit. He doesn’t wait a second longer and storms over to me, bringing his large hands up to cup my cheeks.

  “Dammit, you look gorgeous.”

  “I look fat,” I pout, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “You are everything I have ever wanted, Andrea Miller. If you were anything different, I wouldn’t want you.” He bends to press a kiss on my mouth.

  “So if I were skinny then you wouldn’t want me?” I mumble underneath his lips.

  “I want you so bad, that this quick court wedding was the best idea you’ve ever had. The best idea I’ve ever had was getting our own limo to Bender’s, because I’m going to need to fuck my wife before I share her with everyone.”

  Wife.

  I love the sound of that.

  “Yeah, so you guys do that after the vows,” Linc pipes in, and I feel Roman’s hand whip to the side, in hopes of punching my brother. I gigg
le and pull away. “Stop trying to hurt my brother.”

  “But he’s an asshole.”

  “And you’re violent,” Linc retorts. “Maybe my sister should seek protection for—”

  Linc doubles over as Reagan sucker punches him in the gut.

  Everyone erupts into a fit of laughter as Reagan pats my brother, telling him it’s going to be okay.

  “Excuse me, but are you the Holloways?” a lady questions. “You’re up next.”

  We nod to the woman and Roman grabs my hand.

  “You ready to become Mrs. Holloway?”

  I look my soon-to-be husband in the eyes and reply with love, honesty, and devotion.

  “Bring it on, Mr. Holloway.”

  Two Become Three

  A couple months later…

  “DON’T MOVE,” I GROWL AS I yank her ankle to me.

  “You’re such a bossy asshole!”

  I grab the flogger and slap her thigh. “Do I need to tape your mouth shut too?”

  She glares at me as her pale flesh, where I slapped her, turns bright pink. Despite her faux act to seem pissed, I know better. My wife’s cunt is dripping with desire.

  “You started this,” I tell her as I finish knotting the rope around her ankle. “Oh, Roman, I want you to tie me up like that stud from the Sixty-Nine Shades of Red movie.”

  “Fifty Shades of Grey.” She snorts. “And I do not talk like that.”

  “Oh, Roman, spank me and fuck me and do bad things to me,” I say in a high-pitched tone, pretending to be her.

  “You’re a dick.”

  “Correction, you want my dick.”

  “Correction, I want you to stop dicking around and fuck me before I have this baby already,” she gripes and wriggles against the restraints.

  I smirk as I tease the flogger along her gigantic stomach. “Molly isn’t due for another week and a half. You’re all mine until then.” I give her pussy a little tap with the flogger, causing her to shudder.