“You’re welcome.” Sincerity transformed her face.
“Okay, next one,” Sarah said. She was perched on the floor at my side, feeding me gifts just as quickly as I could open them.
She set on my lap a small silver gift bag with a beautiful mess of black and silver tissue paper sticking out the top. I fumbled for the card.
Selina.
I slanted her a smile as I pulled out what was nestled inside.
A plain white coffee mug. I rotated it a little, unable to contain my grin as I found the personalization on the front.
Mrs. Davison.
I turned it toward my guests. A round of oohs and aahs and that is so sweet rose up over the room.
I couldn’t help but agree.
“I love this. Thank you, Selina.”
“You’re welcome.”
Really I couldn’t wait for that to become my name. I was more than ready. The date had become like this beacon, a signal for our future. Even though Christian and I had already begun our lives together, it didn’t make the day any less important.
“Here, open mine next.” Carrie came forward and grabbed a white gift bag that overflowed with black tissue paper. “Here.”
“Well, aren’t you in a hurry,” I teased as I situated the bag on my lap. “You better not have gotten me something that’s going to embarrass me,” I warned.
She scoffed. “Don’t act like such a prude.” She inclined her head toward my stomach that poked out above my fitted jeans. “Because not one of us in this room is going to believe it.”
I swatted at her and laughed. “You’re terrible.”
She just grinned. “Open it,” she prodded, anxious.
I closed my eyes and reached into the bag, expecting the worst. If anyone in this room would leave me blushing, it was Carrie.
My fingers grazed across something firm and covered in smooth fabric.
Frowning in question, I opened my eyes and pulled out her gift.
I blinked up at my little sister. She’d always been prone to selfishness, the youngest child, the center of attention. That didn’t mean I didn’t love her with every ounce of my being. But this…this was kind and thoughtful.
I ran my fingers over the handmade album before I flipped it open to the first page. Pictures were glued to the decorative paper, faded and worn, the colors bleeding away from the youngest days of our youth. My sisters and I were in our mother’s backyard. The three of us were in nothing but our underwear, covered in mud, wearing the biggest smiles you’d ever seen three children boast. In another, Christmas had come, and my sisters and I were dressed in footed pajamas, our excitement palpable as we hung our stockings on the mantel. A third was from Easter, frilly pink dresses, a mess of fake, green grass, eggs brimming over the top of our baskets.
The last was our beach.
Tears welled.
I couldn’t stop them.
Through glistening eyes, I looked up at my little sister. “This is…perfect.”
I turned the pages through the years of our lives, school pictures, plays, soccer games, and sleepovers. We grew and haircuts and styles changed, a progression of time shared, but through all of them was a projection of our joy.
Toward the back, I stood in the football field after receiving my high school diploma, flanked by my mother and my sisters. Our arms were wrapped around each other as we all leaned toward the camera, the four of us grinning like we were preparing to have the greatest tomorrow.
And on the last page of the album, I’d grown. The lines of my face hinted at the woman I would become, though I still wore the innocence of a girl. The picture had been snapped just before I boarded a plane for the first time in my life. I could almost see the wonder that had filled my eyes, the fear and the anxiety all mixed up with the greatest kind of anticipation as I’d set off for New York City.
I could almost feel it now, exactly the way I’d felt then. I knew my life was about to change. I just never imagined how much.
Just days after this picture was taken, I met Christian.
On instinct, my hand sought out my stomach where Lillie kicked me, her little foot jutting out at my side.
Today I felt the same.
My life was about to change.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Carrie leaned down and hugged me in a way she never had before. “I just wanted you to see yourself through my eyes…the way I see you. These are my memories of my big sister who I looked up to my entire life. I’ll never stop,” she promised.
The tears I’d been trying to hold in fell. Sniffling, I wiped them with the back of my hand. “Love you.”
Quietly, she spoke. “Love you, too.”
“Okay, next one,” Sarah piped in, breaking up the heaviness, all smiles as she searched the pile of gifts.
She set a beautifully wrapped package on my lap, silver paper with black and white ribbon. I opened the card. I read the words written in delicate script inside.
My Dearest Elizabeth,
I find myself at a loss to express my joy, my gratitude, and my love for you. They are bountiful. Profuse. Unending.
The only thing a mother ever wants is for her children to be happy. There are so many ways I believe I failed my son, mistakes I made that I can never take back. But I look at him now and see the way he loves you and Lizzie, the way he loves this new baby, and I know I had to have done something right.
And it’s you, Elizabeth, you who brings this light out in him, you who makes him shine.
For this, I will be forever grateful.
Never have I told anyone this, but for all of my life, I longed for a little girl to call my own. Christian may have been the only child I bore, but you are my daughter.
I love you, and I wish you and Christian a lifetime of happiness. Be good to each other and never forget what is important in this world.
Yours,
Claire
My heart clenched. Shakily, my eyes found her across the small room, where she just sat there, watching me as if she’d been projecting each word of that letter to me.
Soundlessly we spoke, a thousand words voiced in silence. Claire was one of my lessons in life, a testament that people may not always be who they seem, and sometimes the purest hearts are buried beneath their own mistakes.
I loved her more for seeing her way through it. Loved her most for seeing through all of mine.
Dragging my attention away, I unwrapped her gift and slowly lifted the lid. Inside, the gift was wrapped in white, shimmery tissue paper, and a tiny note scrawled in script was laid on top.
For your wedding night.
The tissue paper rustled as I pulled it free.
Maybe I was a little surprised. Maybe I really wasn’t at all. And it wasn’t awkward or weird. I knew she was giving it as her blessing.
Gently I lifted it by the delicate ribbon straps. The nightie was entirely white. Baby-doll style, the soft material looked as if it would brush just along the top of my thighs. The bra and trim were edged in satin, and the rest flowed free in a silky-sheer mesh. It was elegant and altogether sexy.
In awe, I looked up at her. “This is beautiful, Claire.”
I was just about as excited to stand in front of Christian wearing this as I was my wedding my dress. No, being with Christian was nothing new. How many times had I made love to him when we were young, when we were all hands and need and desire? As he’d taught me and I’d willingly learned, as I’d begged and he’d pleased. And God, these last months since we’d reunited… I tingled with the thought.
We knew each other’s bodies well.
But on our wedding night would be a first, a start and a finish. A culmination. A completion.
“Thank you so much,” I whispered.
Prodding, she gestured with her chin. “There’s one more there from me.”
Sarah was quick to place the second gift on my lap. Smiling, I tugged at the paper and opened it.
M
y breath caught.
“Now, I know this is your bridal shower, and maybe I should have waited for your baby shower, but I really couldn’t resist.” An expectant smile flickered across her face, one only a grandmother could wear.
A tiny blanket lay nestled in the box. White with little specks of yellow and green, soft and used and just all around perfect.
She almost hesitated, then rushed out, “That was Christian’s. I…I wish that Lizzie would have had the chance to use it. When I kept it, that had been my intention—that it would be handed down to my son’s first child. And she should have had it…I wish she would have…but I want this baby to have the chance to represent the beginning of your family.”
My fingers traced along the soft material and caressed over a faded stain that hinted at one satiny corner. “This is…amazing, Claire.” Tears surfaced again. Fighting them was futile. I wiped at them as they fell. “So I’m going to blame this baby for all these tears I keep crying,” I said through soggy laughter.
Claire wiped away her own.
I loved Christian. So much. I always had. It was impossible to love him more, and there was no chance I could love him less.
But sharing this pregnancy with him, gaining back what I’d lost, what I’d so desperately missed, had filled the void that had haunted me for so many years. How intensely had I longed for a family? Only because I’d longed for him. Going through this together, I felt closer to him than I ever had.
I knew he’d appreciate this gift as much as I did.
“Okay, that was the last one,” Sarah said as she began picking up the few stray pieces of tissue paper that had made their way to the floor. She stuffed them inside an empty bag.
Lillie kicked me again. Caught off guard, I jumped with the twinge of pain that bit at me just below my rib. I covered the spot with my hand.
“Is that little girl giving you fits again?” Mom asked. The quiet but firm gentleness that always surrounded her glimmered in her eyes.
“Yes.” The fullest smile lifted my mouth as I pressed my hand a little firmer to my side, feeling a slow roll of her movements across my abdomen.
“Can I feel?” Sarah asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, because she already knew what it would be, and she reached out to cover my hand with hers.
She tilted her head as if she were studying before awe filled her face. “Oh my God.” She glanced up at me with a smile to match my own before she dropped her attention back to where she had her hand plastered across my stomach. “She’s moving all over the place. You’d think after having two kids of my own, this wouldn’t seem like the coolest thing in the world.”
I knew what she meant. Even after having Lizzie, every time this baby moved, I was struck, unable to process how truly amazing it was.
I turned back to my guests. “Thank you all so much…for everything,” I said, getting up to embrace each of them. They’d truly showered me with their love and their blessings. Sarah and Natalie placed all the bags near the door, a wealth of candles and perfumes and gift cards that promised me relaxing days at the spa.
My spirit danced in the midst of these women who’d rallied around me. Only this time, it wasn’t to pick me up when I was down, but to support me in my time of happiness.
Most stayed for a while as casual conversations struck up in my sister’s cozy living room. Eventually people began to leave. Goodbyes were said, hugs, gentle hands pressed to my belly.
I couldn’t believe the next time I saw my friends and extended family, it’d be as I began the march down the aisle to marry the man I’d loved for as long as I could remember. The upcoming week would be nonstop, dinners to entertain our guests arriving from out of town, our rehearsal and dinner, and I knew Natalie would be dragging me everywhere as we took care of all the last minute details.
I closed the door with a final wave. The only ones who remained were my sisters, Natalie, my mom, and Claire.
I blew out a heavy breath, realizing just how exhausted I was after today. Everyone headed into the kitchen to begin cleaning up, all except for my mom, who hung out on the other side of the couch, watching me.
“This was a great day, Elizabeth,” she said with a subtle nod of her head.
“Amazing. These women…” I looked back at the door they all had just disappeared through. “I can’t imagine feeling more loved than I do right now.”
She offered me a smile as she pulled a small gift from behind her back. She began to walk toward me. “I have something for you, but I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”
A smile wobbled at one corner of my mouth, and I looked at my mom who appeared a little self-conscious, shifting her feet, ill at ease.
The gift was haphazardly wrapped, all over the place with kinks and uneven edges and subdued beauty, a little like my mother’s constant demeanor.
Awe pumped a steady beat with my heart, wound with expectancy and hope. Somehow I knew whatever waited inside, her gift was going to become one of my most cherished possessions.
Slowly I extended my hand out between us, palm up, and watched as she carefully sat the gift upon it.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I glanced up at her with a soft smile, then down to tug gently at the satin ribbon.
Cautiously, I unwrapped her offering. Tearing away the tacks of tape, I pulled the paper free. I lifted the lid to the small box.
“Mom,” I whispered. Nested inside the white satin lining was a ring.
But not just any ring.
My grandmother’s ring.
An old yearning slammed me. It hurt and comforted and filled me whole. I missed my grandma so much, and to be given this was beyond anything I’d ever have expected.
The white gold band appeared the antique it was, worn, though it still boasted the intricate design that wrapped and curled. Delicate tendrils crawled up to cradle a baby blue stone. Pinching it between my fingers, I spun it through the rays of late afternoon light that streaked in through the window, let the colors shimmer and dance and play.
Something old and something blue.
“She gave that to me a few days before she passed,” Mom said. A distinct current of homesickness slipped into her tone. “She told me it belonged to you, and that I’d know exactly when I was supposed to give it to you.”
Wistful emotion played where it danced along the lines set deep in her face, her mouth quivering. “I know that day’s today, Elizabeth. That ring was meant for you to wear on your wedding day.”
She swallowed hard. “I have to be honest and tell you I’ve been worried over all this for you. When Christian came back into your life, I was scared for you, I guess because of all of my own insecurities…the things I had to go through in my own life.” She kind of laughed, though it was drenched in sadness. “For so long, I viewed the two of us the same, and somewhere inside me, I thought we’d live out our days the same way…alone. Like we had this common bond we both had to bear.” Her voice strengthened. “What I never imagined was Christian would turn out to be the man he is. But there is no mistaking it in him. I’m so thankful you’ve found a man to love you the way you deserve to be. Completely.”
“Mom,” bled from my mouth in a torrent of thankfulness. I rushed to pull her into an eager embrace. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. This ring…you saying this. Thank you…so much. You don’t even know.”
She hugged me tight, her arms wrapped around me in an unwavering declaration of support. “Yes, I do,” she whispered back. “I just want you to be happy.”
I edged back an inch, still clinging to her, clinging to the ring I had pinched between my fingers. God, I was crying again, but I felt so full. So loved. How could I stop them? Today…well, really, these past few months, had been perfectly overwhelming. Flawlessly breathtaking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”
She touched my cheek. “I can see it. You radiate it. Don’t ever let it go.”
That promise was easy to make. “
I won’t.”
Chapter Eleven
Christian
Present Day, Early October
On Monday night, I turned the key on my condo lock. I held the door open and flipped on the light. “Go on in, sweetheart.”
With a passing grin, Lizzie scampered around me into the living area.
I had her pink overnight bag slung over my shoulder, and I dropped it to the floor beside the door.
A wistful smile played at my mouth as I watched my daughter enter my condo. God, I’d been missing her. The last time I’d spent any time with her was Saturday morning before I dropped her back home, and she’d spent the last two nights with Elizabeth. I’d had an early meeting this morning, so I had to ask Elizabeth to take her to school and then she picked her up this afternoon. I’d been anxious all day, wishing the hours away so I could head to Elizabeth’s to pick Lizzie up to spend the night with me.
There’d been something I couldn’t quite read about Elizabeth this evening.
Maybe I was grasping, but I thought I sensed a change, something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Like maybe there was a subtle difference in her eyes. Like maybe there was a flicker of life. It’d been missing for so long, I almost didn’t recognize it, but she’d dropped her gaze faster than I had time to study her, to understand her.
I shook my head. I just didn’t know, didn’t know what she wanted, didn’t know what I could do.
But I knew I was going to have to do something. How much longer would I just sit idle? Doing nothing? An overbearing feeling of helplessness had held me back, kept me down. But I felt it all coming to a head.
I quietly latched the door behind us.
Rays of sunlight streamed in from the floor-to-ceiling windows in my loft. Burning streaks of oranges flamed against the fading blue on the horizon, glimmered across the rippling bay as daylight slipped away.
Lizzie went right for the windows, her favorite spot at my place. “Look at all the sailboats,” she whispered, almost pensive as she pressed her face and hands to the glass. “I wish I got to see the ocean every day.”
I crept up to her side and rested my hand on the back of her head. “It’s really beautiful out there, isn’t it?” I cast her a soft smile.
The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes Page 51