The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes

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The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes Page 62

by A. L. Jackson


  Joy reigned here.

  That didn’t mean there were no bad days. There were still times when I found Elizabeth on her knees in the huge walk-in closet adjoining our bedroom. Lillie’s blanket would be balled in her arms. She’d rock it as if she were rocking the child she never truly had the chance to. She’d cry and she’d whisper incoherent words, she’d love and she’d adore. Then she’d dry her eyes and climb to her feet, tucking those precious tokens away until she felt compelled to be immersed in them again. She’d never had the strength to leave them out, to put any of it on display, but instead hid it away as her own buried treasure.

  I’d be waiting for her, leaning up against the doorframe. Elizabeth would cast me a mournful smile as I pulled her into my arms, and she’d mumble into my shirt how much she missed her.

  And we were okay with that, welcomed those days because, even though they hurt, they belonged to Lillie.

  Another wave crashed, and the ocean stirred.

  Behind me, our bed creaked, a soft rustle of sheets. I looked over my shoulder.

  Elizabeth sat up on the side of the bed, arching as she pressed her hands to her lower back. Her long hair fell in waves as she lifted her chin, brushed along the bed as she stretched her neck.

  My breath caught.

  Beauty. There was no other way to describe it.

  She’d always reminded me of honey, the golden glow of her skin, the sweetness of her mouth, the warmth in her eyes.

  I started toward her, whispering, “What are you doing awake, baby? You need to rest.”

  She blinked at me through the shadows of the darkened room. She almost pouted. “Too uncomfortable.”

  She blew a strained breath between pursed lips.

  I crouched down between her knees. My fingers crawled up the top of her legs and around to her back where I massaged deeply into her hips where she always seemed to be sore.

  She whimpered out a subdued moan. “That feels so good.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing and I’m a happy girl.”

  Her fitted tank top had ridden up, bunched just below her swollen breasts. The huge protrusion ballooned out between us, her belly button stretched thin.

  Elizabeth was five days passed her due date.

  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

  Apparently my son was stubborn.

  Three months after our wedding, we found out Elizabeth was pregnant again. News of this pregnancy hadn’t been met with the thrill of the last, with the wild expectation for what was to be. Instead it’d been met with trembling hands and trepidation.

  But we’d realized this life was worth the chance, that we had to breathe and live and love, and we couldn’t allow fear to hold us back.

  It didn’t mean there weren’t the nagging worries, the panic that would tighten Elizabeth’s eyes if she thought it’d been too long since she last felt him move.

  For our peace of mind, Dr. Montieth had recommended that we get a home heart monitor. She’d taught us how to use it, what to look for and what to be concerned of, the quickened whirl of his heartbeat a promise that he was okay.

  Elizabeth looked down as she ran her hand over her stomach, bit her lip as she glanced up at me under the hedge of hair that had fallen in her face.

  I reached up and brushed it back.

  She cradled him between her hands. “I wish he would come,” she whispered. A smile trembled at her mouth. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  I slipped my hands around her sides and to her front, covered Elizabeth’s hold in mine as we swam in our anticipation. “I’ve never been more ready for anything, Elizabeth.”

  She smiled a little before a yawn overtook her. She chuckled as she tried to conceal it behind her hand.

  I nudged her chin with the hook of my index finger. “You need to get some rest. I have a feeling you’re not going to get much of it really soon.”

  She giggled in the cutest way. “Yeah, I guess he can’t hide out in here forever.”

  I crawled in bed with her, pulled the covers over us as I nestled her back against my chest. She curled into me, her tender hand covering mine where I rested it on the distended wall of her belly.

  Contentment thrummed between us.

  Her breaths evened out like a soothing balm, and she quickly drew me into sleep.

  ~

  A thrill of energy rose up in the room, a cheer of encouragement. “You’re almost there, Elizabeth. Give me one more big push,” Dr. Montieth coaxed.

  Sweat drenched Elizabeth’s forehead, soaked her hair. She clenched my hand as she bore down and cried out.

  For a moment, there was silence as our son slipped into Dr. Montieth’s hands. Time seemed to stop as I watched the frantic movements that had slowed in my mind. The doctor held him in a blue blanket, one hand at the back of his neck as she almost tipped him upside down, the other suctioning out his mouth and nose.

  Blood stained him, covered him whole, this little boy that already held my heart.

  My vision blurred.

  Then he cried.

  These shrill, shocked cries that welcomed him into this world.

  Another blanket was tossed on Elizabeth’s belly, and they set him on his side, the two nurses roughing it over his tiny body.

  And he was crying and crying. The precious sound rattled through the room as his little arms and legs flailed.

  Shaking uncontrollably, Elizabeth reached for him, palmed his head with an unsteady hand. He reacted, tilting against her touch as if seeking her out, a stutter in his cries as his mouth twisted at the side because the child already knew her.

  And she wept, tears of relief and tears of joy, a torrent of emotion spilling from this amazing woman. From the woman who held my dreams, the one who held my future.

  I rushed to smooth her hair back that was drenched in sweat, dropped my forehead to hers, lost myself in the warmth of her brown eyes. “You did it,” flooded as a desperate whisper as I kissed her mouth, as I kissed the woman I loved with all my life, “You beautiful girl. You did it.”

  ~

  I stood at the window, peering out into the night, rocking in a slow sway. Waves rushed in, crashed on the shore. A contented sigh flowed from me as I rocked from side to side.

  Myles squirmed in the safety of my hold, cradled in my arm. It was a writhe, the little guy worming around with a restless roll, extending his head back.

  I couldn’t hold in my smile.

  I’d been right.

  My son was stubborn. He knew exactly what he wanted and when he wanted it.

  Stretching his free leg, he flexed his foot, digging his toes into my skin. Tight against the side of his face, he clenched and unclenched one tiny fist. He jerked his open mouth toward my chest, his tongue jutting out between his lips as if he were searching, hunting.

  But of course he was.

  He wanted his mother.

  Jerking the other direction, he fought with his fist, trying to stuff it into his mouth. He was making all these little noises, rattled sounds that were not quite a cry.

  “Shh…” I rocked him a little, the softest bounce. “Let’s let mommy sleep just a little longer. Do you think you could do that? It’s not quite time for you to eat yet.”

  At the sound of my muted voice, he looked up at me with his wide, storm-blue eyes.

  Love consumed me, filled every crevice of my being as I looked down at his perfect face.

  My son.

  Elizabeth insisted those dark blue eyes would turn the color of mine. She said Lizzie’s had been so much the same. I wasn’t sold on it yet. His hair was light, a thin layer that didn’t even cover the cap of his head, like maybe he was going to take after his mother, this beautiful child that had completed our home.

  He fussed a little more, and I began to pace the floor, hoping to give Elizabeth a few more minutes sleep.

  I lifted him to nuzzle his cheek. “Why don’t we go check on your big sister
?” I murmured at the softness of his skin.

  I chuckled low when his mouth bobbed at my cheek, rooting, seeking, exploring. Tiny fingernails scratched at my face, their dig like an embrace that went straight to my heart. I kissed the tips of his fingers as they tugged at my lips.

  I crept from mine and Elizabeth’s room, through the living space, to the other end of the house. Lizzie’s door sat partially open, the nightlight that glowed from within illuminating her precious face in subdued light.

  She was fast asleep, lost in her dreams, that sweet face relaxed as she rested on her pillow, her hair billowing out behind her.

  I nudged the door farther open, walked to her side, and brushed my fingers through my daughter’s silky black hair.

  This little girl who had once stopped me in my tracks with a penetrating gaze and a tiny smile that had undone something in me. The one who had covered me in awareness, the one who’d sent love rushing in.

  This child, the one who had been mine and Elizabeth’s breaking point, the one who had also been our start. The catalyst with her knowing eyes and tender heart.

  She was the one who had changed the selfish person I was.

  I’d never stop wishing I could go back and change it. Getting to experience this with Myles…I’d never really known just how much I’d missed. And I missed it. Wished for it. That I could hold Lizzie as a baby.

  In the depths of sleep, she released a soft sigh, an emotion that was palpable as it wound with my heart, like maybe this intuitive child understood.

  All I had was today, and I chose to love her with every second, with every breath.

  Leaning down, I swept a small kiss across Lizzie’s cheek.

  She was the most amazing big sister, too, the way I’d always imagined she’d be. She couldn’t wait for Myles to get a little older, to hear the first of his laughter, to watch his first smile grace his face. She couldn’t wait for him to play.

  I hugged my six-week-old son a little closer to me, willing time to slow. I’d learned to cherish each day, and I wished none of them away.

  He fussed, and a tiny cry gurgled from his trembling mouth, his toothless gums exposed.

  My chest tightened, affection pressed.

  Was it strange I thought it the cutest thing?

  I whispered to Lizzie, “Goodnight, princess,” then kissed her again before I lifted Myles to the center of my chest. He curled his legs up under him, tucked into a tiny ball. I patted his back as I walked back through the house, pressed my lips to the crown of his head.

  I entered back into the muted light and looked down to where my wife lay. Awake, she was on her side, facing me. A sleepy smile spread along her gorgeous mouth.

  “I thought I heard him crying. Is he hungry?”

  I nodded with a smirk, my palm a caress at the back of his head. “Apparently this little guy likes you as much as I do.”

  Her smile transformed as a blush crawled across her face, the sweet innocence that had stolen my heart hinting at her cheeks. “He does, huh? Well, I kind of like him, too.”

  With our son in my arms, I placed a knee on the mattress and climbed to the bed. I passed Myles to her, and she welcomed him into her arms.

  Light filled her face. Intense, radiant light. It shined with love. With joy.

  Still lying on her side, she nestled him against her, lifted her arm over her head as she bunched up her shirt so Myles could find her breast.

  He curled back into that tiny ball, his fingers fisted in her shirt. He grunted, jerked his head and mouth as he latched on.

  Elizabeth caressed the back of her hand over his round cheek, looked down at the child who had taught us so many things—that it was okay to hope again, to love without fear, even when it might cost us all, to show it every day.

  I settled down beside them, our son cocooned between us.

  She glanced up at me, her brown eyes steeped in emotion. “I didn’t think I’d ever love this much again.”

  I reached across the short space, held her face in the cup of my hand, and realized I’d never felt closer to her than I did now.

  Her gaze locked with mine, this woman who loved me with everything and trusted me with all.

  My mind rushed through the years of our lives, what my hopes for the future held.

  The footsteps that would clamor over these wooden floors, the laughter and the play, the days that would pass as we watched our children grow. I could picture Myles stumbling across the lawn on unsure feet, the biggest grin on his face, Lizzie at his side, encouraging him to take one more step.

  The way it would sound when he called me Daddy.

  The way my little girl would slowly turn into a woman, how it terrified me yet made me insane with pride at the same time.

  How my children would learn. All their missteps and triumphs, failures and successes.

  How one day they would find a love of their own.

  How Elizabeth and I would be allowed to grow old together.

  That we’d love until we’d been given no more days, and then, somehow, I’d find her again.

  This woman, the one who’d stolen my breath with a passing glance.

  This woman, the one who’d changed every piece of me.

  I clutched her face as I kissed her.

  This woman.

  My forever.

  ~

  Keep turning the pages for a sneak peek at A.L. Jackson’s upcoming New Adult Romance, Come To Me Quietly…

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for reading The Regret Series. I truly hope you enjoyed it! If you did, I would be completely honored if you would leave a short review on Amazon. Those reviews are the best kind of support you can give an author, and I am so thankful for every single one!

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  Amy

  A. L. Jackson

  More From New York Times Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson

  Pulled ~ http://amzn.to/PulledEbook

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  Come to Me Quietly

  Prologue

  Dashed lines blur until they become a solid line. My bones vibrate from the thousands of miles I’ve spent straddling this leather seat, the muscles in my right arm screaming from the hours my hand has been locked on the throttle.

  But I don’t stop. I can’t, and I don’t know why. Something in my gut spurs me forward. I plough ahead.

  Hot air blasts my face and my hair thrashes in uncontrolled chaos. I bite back a bitter laugh.

  Uncontrolled chaos. That’s exactly how they described me.

  The desert sky goes on forever, an ocean of the deepest blue. The city rises like a beacon in the distance. Because I am drawn.

  What am I doing?

  There is nothing here for me. I know it. I’ve already destroyed it all. I destroy everything I touch.

  Still, I can do nothing but press on.

  Chapter 1

  Aleena

  I was propped up on my bed with my sketch pad balanced on my bent knees. Megan was doing her best not to laugh from where she sat cross-legged at the end of my bed, bouncing.

  “Hold still,” I commanded, biting my bottom lip as I attempted to get her mouth just right. The shading was difficult, and I wanted it perfect. Megan had the most genuine smile of any person I’d ever met. I refused to mess it up.

  “But I have to pee,” she whined. She bounced a little harder. She couldn’t hold it in any longer, and she released this hysterical laugh as she rolled off the edge of my bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  With a groan, I tossed my sketch pad to the bed. “You’re such a pain in my ass, Megan,” I called
after her as she ran out my door and across the hall to the bathroom. She’d gotten up to pee at least three times in the last hour. The girl could not sit still to save her life.

  “That’s why you love me so much,” she yelled back.

  The bathroom door slammed behind her, and I picked the pad back up to study it.

  Megan’s striking face stared back at me, smiling, her normally long blonde hair traced in shades of charcoal, her normally blue eyes wide and black.

  She’d been my best friend since she moved here from Rhode Island during our sophomore year of high school almost five years ago. I loved drawing her because she was so different than the typical model who offered themselves up. She was short, just shy of the 5’2” mark, wore her curves well, and had the most unique face. It was somehow both sweet and curious, this constant expression that made me think of innocence trying to work itself out.

  She still lived with her parents in the same neighborhood where I’d grown up, just two streets over from my old house where my parents and younger brother still lived. She hung out here a lot at the apartment that I’d shared with my older brother, Christopher, since I graduated from high school two years ago. Christopher and I both went to ASU, and our apartment was near the campus. I was going to school to be a nurse, but God, sometimes I wished I could do something with my art. I knew it was absurd, that there was little chance that anything would come of it. That didn’t mean I didn’t want it.

  She was grinning when she came back less than two minutes later.

  “Feel better?”

  “Oh yeah.” Climbing back onto the bed, she crawled forward to steal a peek.

  I hid the pad against my chest.

  “Let me see.” She reached out and tried to grab it.

  I shook my head and held it closer. “You know the rules.”

  “I know, I know.” She sat back. No one ever got to see. No one except for me.

  From the floor, Megan’s phone rang in her purse. She leaned over to dig it out. When she rose back up, excitement had transformed her expression. “It’s him,” she mouthed to me as she accepted the call and brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

 

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