We Were Memories

by Brandi Aga

  She looks beautiful in my T-shirt and untamed wet hair. She stops short at the end of the bed when she sees the box sitting on her pillow. “What is that?” she asks as she points nervously to where it sits, waiting for her.

  I can’t stop grinning like an idiot, but I’m starting to feel stupid. I don’t even know if she’ll like it. Fuck, the woman got me feelin’ all kinds of nervous and shit. “Come here and find out.”

  She crawls up on the bed, and I can smell my soap on her from the shower. It smells really fucking good on her hot little body. I pull her over on top of me and kiss her neck. Fuck it, the box can wait. She’s laughing, but I’m not. I’m turned on, and I just wanna be inside of her.

  “Stop, you can’t not let me open it now!”

  I reach over and hand her the box. She unwraps it and takes the lid off, staring at it.

  “Roman, oh my God.”

  “If you don’t like it, it’s okay—”

  “No, Roman, I love it. It’s beautiful.”

  I have an old friend who’s a nurse too. Asked her what’s something cool she’d like, to get an idea. I found a rose gold stethoscope with some girly crystal shit on it that looked like it was made just for my girl. She works her ass off at that hospital, and I knew she’d never spend anything like that on herself. If she’s not here with me, she’s there at the hospital, takin’ care of everybody else. Thought it fit her perfectly.

  She puts it around her neck and slips the earpieces into her ears before placing it over my chest, listening to my heartbeat.

  “Are you gonna be my dirty little nurse?” I ask. My question has her grinning and flushed all at the same time.

  “Is that why you bought me these? So we could play doctor?”

  She wipes the grin off her face and travels down my body, not moving her hand from the spot on my chest. When her other hand reaches the bulge in my shorts, I’m pretty sure I can hear my own heartbeat. Leylah looks up at me, and I swear I almost lose it right then and there. Fuck, she’s so hot. No female has ever made me feel this way. Never mind the fact that she’s gonna be the mom to my kid. Fuck, that makes her even hotter.

  Getting out of my thoughts, I flip her over and show her the kind of patient I am. I’m rough and angry, but fuck me if she doesn’t like it. She’s lying on her stomach, and I’ve got her head pressed down on the bed, ramming her as hard as I can. My dirty girl matches me with each thrust, pushing that ass back at me. I feel her body start to shake, so I up my game and give her all I can. Between her screams and how good she feels around my cock, I come too.

  We’re both spent, laid out like we just ran a marathon.

  I could get used to this.

  I’m excited to find out the sex of my baby. Our baby. Roman rode in yesterday. I can tell he’s tired from the drive, but he’d never say that out loud. I didn’t know if he was going to be able to make it, cutting it so close to the wire, but he told me he’d never miss something like this, and he meant it. He’s nervous but trying too hard not to show it with his arms crossed and leg propped up against the wall.

  “Are you okay, babe?”

  He leans over and grabs my hand, giving me a kiss of reassurance. “Always.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know.” He winks.

  I’m naked from the waist down with a flimsy paper sheet for my modesty, or what’s left of it, obviously. Dr. Stranton knocks on the door, interrupting our moment.

  “Go ahead and lay back for me.” Dr. Stranton rolls the ultrasound cart into the room and parks it next to the table. He squirts the lube on my belly, and the little gray blob pops up onto the screen. He turns it away from me to check all the baby’s measurements. I know the drill. I’ve done many scans myself, but it’s different waiting to see your own baby. “Everything is measuring great. Fluid looks good…” He’s clicking away at the buttons on the cart when he asks if we want to know the sex.

  I don’t even have to think about it. “We definitely do.”

  He pushes the monitor toward Roman and me, and I don’t even need him to tell me it’s a girl; I can see it for myself. It’s so surreal how much more the baby looks like an actual baby every time I come in.

  Dr. Stranton looks over at Roman and says, “You better get the shotgun ready, sir.” He prints out a photocopy of our baby girl, and all I can do is stare. I have prayed for this moment for so long, and I’m truly happy. I prayed and prayed for a baby with Ryan for the longest time, and it wasn’t happening. I was about ready to give up, but my prayers were answered. Maybe not the best timing in my eyes, but everything happens for a reason; we just have to trust that. “I’ll give you time to get dressed. You’re all good to go when you’re ready. Just see Lisa on your way out and schedule your next appointment.”

  As soon as he shuts the door, I peek over at Roman. He’s still standing there, arms crossed in caveman mode. He turns me on, and I’m so giddy I could squeal. That moment you get when your chest feels like it’s going to explode with love and excitement… I have that now. I’ve never felt it like I do in this moment.

  “You’re beautiful. Just like that.”

  He’s kissing me again and lifting me up off the table. “My ass is out!”

  “I know. I like it.” The sound of his hand smacking my bare ass is so loud it can probably be heard in the waiting room. “Get dressed before I fuck you right here.”

  “Really romantic.” I can’t help but push his buttons just for the hell of it so, I add, “I might like it though.”

  My back to his front, he growls into my ear. “There’s my dirty girl.” He kisses my neck and locks his hands around my swollen belly. It’s mesmerizing, looking at his tattooed fingers on my naked skin.

  “Love you, babe.”

  I throw his own line back at him. “I know.”

  We stopped by the apartment to pick up Erin and go to dinner. Now that we know we’re having a girl, we can pick out a few baby things we’ve been dying to get. Roman wasn’t too thrilled about going shopping like we were, so I, at least, promised him dinner out of it.

  “So, when are you gonna let her move out and in with me?” Roman’s looking at Erin, challenging her. His question is playful, but I know there’s some truth behind that smile. Erin can handle him though.

  “Never,” she says, smiling right back.

  Meanwhile, I’m elbow deep in chicken fajitas, and I’m not going anywhere near this conversation.

  “Come on. My daughter wants to live in Cali. By the water. It’s too hot here.”

  Erin laughs. “You mean to tell me that a big ol’ bad biker like yourself can’t handle a little bit of Texas heat?”

  Roman frowns. “Can’t and don’t want to are two different things.” There’s an awkward silence around the table, and I don’t like it. I just want to eat my dinner in peace, dammit. “I can’t leave the shop, babe.” His words are directed at me now, his demeanor calmer than before when he was hashing it out with Erin.

  “I know. I didn’t ask you to.” I smile, trying to diffuse the tension. I make a show of giving Erin a face so she’ll shut her mouth. The waiter comes back and leaves the bill. “Can we go to Target now?”

  We’re in the middle of the baby aisle when my phone vibrates. I stop the buggy and dig around in my purse, searching for the culprit.

  Ryan: Hey. How are you?

  I look around, forgetting that I’m standing in the middle of Target. Erin and Roman are looking at something at the end of the row we’re standing in. No doubt arguing over who’s right and who’s wrong. Why is Ryan texting me?

  Me: Good. How are you?

  Ryan: I’m good, Ley. Sent papers back to you in the mail.

  Right. Our divorce papers. Nothing has been finalized yet, and he’s been waiting for me to send him the documents from my lawyer so he can have his attorney sign off on them too.

  Ryan: Just sign it. Send it back. Should be a breeze from there.

  Me: Okay.

  I’d be lying if
I said I wasn’t a little bit sad that it’s so easy for him to do this. Maybe it’s just another sign that we would have been down this path anyway.

  “Which one? Bonehead over here says this one.” Erin is holding up two infant sleepers. One says “The world’s best aunt,” and the other says “I love my daddy.” When I don’t say anything, she drops her hands down to the cart. “What?”

  Snapping out of it, I put a fake happy face on. “Nothing, get them both.” She knows me too well to drop it, narrowing her eyes at me. “Really. Why do I have to pick? Just get them.”

  “Okay,” she says suspiciously, giving in and placing both outfits in the cart. “But you’re so telling me what’s going on later.”

  I sigh.

  Roman could only stay a couple days. He had business to take care of back at the shop, whatever that means. I’ll take what I can get though. I’d rather see him a few days here and there than only get to stare at his face on FaceTime.

  “This came for you this morning.” Erin walks in my room like she owns the place and throws a big manila envelope on the pillow next to my head.

  I reach over blindly and attempt to read the label half asleep.

  Shit.

  Ryan.

  “It’s my divorce agreement.”

  “You’re just now getting that?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.

  “Yes. He sent me a text in Target the other day.”

  Her eyes get big, realization dawning on her at the severity of the situation that could have come about that day. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. Roman was right there. Don’t need him knowing about Ryan.”

  “Wait. You never told him about Ryan?”

  “No, why would I?”

  She plops down, face down into the pillow. “Leylah, what the hell am I going to do with you? You were freaking married for like ten years. You don’t think it could eventually come up? That’s kinda something people mention.”

  I’m silent, pondering the thought of what she’s saying. She may be right, but how am I supposed to tell him now?

  While I was in Texas with Leylah, I got wind that Armillio put two more of my boys down, just east of here in Corona. Hated leaving that sad pretty face of hers, but had to cut it short. Hauled ass back here to deal with the bodies as soon as Blaze lit my phone up.

  Don’t know how Armillio knew they were connected to me, but I’ve got eyes all over. Just like he does. He shows his face near here, I’ll know it. Means he’s got someone doing his dirty work for him. As usual.

  “Sup, boss.” Blaze sits down across from me and stretches his feet out. He’s dirty and tired from everything goin’ down the last twenty-four hours, no doubt.

  “Still no sign of him?”

  “Nope. Took the two down in Corona. Never saw it coming, I suspect. Two bullets in the back of the head.” He looks away as he says the last part, as if that lessens the blow of what he’s telling me.

  Emerson.

  No. Don’t go there, not now. I grip the edge of my desk a little tighter, the sting of the metal cutting into my hand, feeding into my anger.

  I sent two guys who owed me a favor on a small recon mission. Nothin’ major, scout out the area, sniff around, see who can spill what they know. Turns out that favor cost them their lives. All ’cause some sick fuck is still on a decade-long killing spree.

  More blood spilled. Blood on my hands ’cause I didn’t end that motherfucker’s life when I should have all those years ago.

  I won’t make the same mistake again.

  Erin is at work. I don’t work until next week, and I’m trying to get some much-needed rest. So someone please tell me why it sounds like the cops are trying to beat my door down. I shove the covers off and throw my robe over me to cover my ass. When I swing the door open, I’m ready to go off on the person standing on the other side, whoever is interrupting my precious sleep is about to get the short end of the stick.

  I’m so annoyed, I don’t even bother looking through the peephole, so it’s an understatement to say I’m surprised to see Ryan standing there. He looks nice, in a button-down shirt, dark jeans, and boots. Oh my God. What is he doing here?

  His eyes go straight to my protruding belly, which I try to smother with my robe, but it’s a little too late for that at this point. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to tell him, too much like putting salt in an open wound. Or maybe I’m just a coward, but either way, I haven’t told him, and I didn’t plan on him seeing me half naked to find out. He’s got his sunglasses on, keeping me from reading his face, but I can only imagine what’s running through his mind.

  “Shit, Leylah. I knew this would fucking happen.” He runs a hand down his face and scratches his stubble. “I’ve sent you texts, called you, because I genuinely care about you. You were a huge part of my life. Ten years is a long time. And not once could you even bother to tell me you’re fucking pregnant?” He’s quiet for a moment, and I’m still rendered silent. “Is he here?”

  What?

  “No, he’s not here! What the hell is your problem? You don’t get to come over here and barge in on me like this and pretend to care. Not now. Not after all those times I begged you to talk about our relationship and you shut me down. How many times did I try to talk to you and you got mad and went to bed without a care in the world?” I’m out of breath, and I know I’m a sight to be seen with my belly sticking out of my too-small T-shirt, in my undies, and going on day three of dry-shampooed hair.

  Ryan stands there staring out into the street for a moment. “You know, I guess a part of me thought this would just go away. You’d miss me and come back home.” He looks over at me, and I can see one lone tear leaking out from his sunglasses. “But this is really happening, isn’t it?”

  His honesty hits me like a punch in the throat. Our relationship didn’t make it, and he’s right, ten years is a long time. It hurts. It hurts a lot. It makes it worse seeing this man who I fell for all those years ago standing in front of me, so wide open and vulnerable. It makes me angry that he couldn’t show me feelings before now. It might have helped save our marriage if he had just given me something, anything. If he would have just slowed down and fucking looked at me.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. I told you about Roman, and me and you,” I wave my finger between our bodies, “we’re not together anymore. You signed those papers too, Ryan. All too easily. You can’t just wait until I’m with someone else and decide to swoop back in and give a shit.” Breathe, just breathe. My wall is going back up. If I’m angry, I can control my tears better.

  Ryan slowly nods, still not looking in my direction. He stands there a few more seconds, and I can’t help but wonder how long he’s going to do this. How much longer till he puts us out of our misery and leaves. He finally takes a step toward me and wraps his hand around the back of my head before kissing my forehead. “I hope he makes you happy, Ley.”

  He turns and jogs over to his truck. The engine roars to life. Watching him and hearing the all-too-familiar rumble brings back memories, like of him picking me up for one of our first times going out together.

  Ryan holds the door open for me, and I sit there in the passenger seat until he climbs into the truck and lifts the center console. I scoot over toward him, and he puts his arm around my neck and kisses my temple. We drive out to his Papaw’s cabin in the middle of nowhere and just sit there in the truck with the heater on. Listening to the loud lull of the engine as we talk about our future, while being held so tight in his arms, is my favorite pastime.

  I feel myself breaking all over again. I can’t get the door shut fast enough when all I see is his taillights. I slide down the door and cry my eyes out.

  I wake with a jolt; my belly is tight, and I need water in the worst way. My tongue feels like sandpaper. After Ryan left, I didn’t bother moving from my spot by the door. I sat there and cried like a toddler until I fell asleep. Judging by how I feel right now, I slept for a couple hours.

 
; It’s a struggle to get up off the floor. I remember I was sleeping when he came here in the first place, so I go to my bed in search of my phone. I missed Roman’s calls and a FaceTime call while I was out of it. I’ll call him back, but first: pee then water.

  I can’t ignore how tight my belly is. This isn’t normal for me. I don’t know if it’s because I was so upset or what, but I know my body. I know what Braxton Hicks contractions are, and I’m pretty sure this is it. I decide to down another big glass of water and take a warm bath to see if that eases some of this discomfort.

  When I’m seated in the bath, I lie back and try to relax while I FaceTime Roman.

  “Sup, beautiful?”

  “Okay, now I know you’re full of shit.” I laugh, because he’s so good to me. I just ugly cried in my foyer and drooled all over the floor half-naked for hours, and he still calls me beautiful.

  “You been sleepin’?” he asks.

  I nod. “I don’t feel right at all. I think I’m having some Braxton Hicks. Thought I’d see if the water helps.

  “Braxton what?”

  “Braxton Hicks. It’s like false contractions.”

  “Babe, I don’t like this,” he says, frowning, still in constant caveman mode over a thousand miles away.

  If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even still be working, but I want to work for as long as I can. With Roman and the baby, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Roman obviously can’t move here with BCM, and I don’t want him to, because I know that’s not what he wants. I need stability for myself, on my own. I can’t leave it all up to the man this time. I’ve learned that the hard way, way too late in life.

  “I know. We’ll figure it out, right?”

  He puts his tools down and walks into his office. “How am I supposed to help you from here?”