“I know.” He didn’t bring up the kiss, which was so unlike Keaton that I widened my eyes.
“I know that you know. And after my party... after you did what you did to me…”
“After I hit you,” he corrected, his voice thick with sorrow. “Say the words, Vivian. I want to never forget how I hurt the one person I love more than anything or anyone in this world.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, drawing him closer. “Luke was angry with you. I was confused. Hurt. I did the Stupid Vivian Thing and thought that a man would fix the hurt inside of me, and the second he kissed me, I knew. It wasn’t right, and it would never be right with Luke. And he stopped, Keaton. He could have taken advantage of Stupid Vivian, but he didn’t. He felt bad enough that he’d already crossed the line.”
We lay in silence for a long time, and I knew he was comprehending my words. I waited for a sarcastic rebuttal, but instead, he nodded against my forehead. “Luke is a good kid. He and Robin and I have a bond that will never break. I know what he did must be killing him inside.”
The pure empathy from my narcissistic Keaton nearly floored me. “Yes. You’re right. I know that it is. And he loves us, and he loves Charlie.”
“I used to hide in this room, V. A lot. Our dad would drink and beat the fuck out of my mom. And me. And Robin. And Robin and I vowed to protect Luke, and we never broke that vow. I’ve given my brother everything that he has ever wanted, and worked like hell to make enough money to make sure he could come to me for anything. And now, he’s divorced, and needs me, and I just… I can’t be there for him. I can’t give you up. I can’t watch him raise my family.”
“I don’t want to be with Luke,” I argued. “I don’t want to be with Matthew. I want you, Keaton. It’s always been you and will always be you. But the alcohol… the pills. I am not strong enough. I don’t know how to deal with your rages, and your pain,” I sobbed, uncontrollable tears breaking down the walls I’d so carefully built. “I want to give you everything you need, because I am so in love with you. But I can’t enable the addiction. And I can’t help you with the pain. So I want to run. Because that’s what I do. I run away from the hard stuff. You have to hold onto me. Don’t let me run. Work with me to fix this. To fix us.”
He rolled me to my back, leaning over me in the shadowy darkness. “I’m done with rehab, V. I’m never going to touch another drink again. The pills are gone. I’m managing the pain. I will never hurt you again, and I swear to God, if I do, if I break that promise… I’ll help you run.”
I looped my arms around his neck and tugged him to me as his mouth crashed to mine.
Out of the Past
K
I tugged the towel away from her body, and when she lifted off the bed to help me, I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I kissed her hard, driving her to that familiar writhing point beneath me until she opened her legs to clench them around my hips.
“One of us is overdressed,” I managed, pulling away to yank my t-shirt over my head. In seconds I kicked my jeans to the floor, and she moaned, splaying her hands over my shoulders.
“You’re so hot, I’ve been wanting to tell you that. Every day on the set,” she murmured, kneading her fingers into my biceps. “So healthy, and you’re even bigger now than you were last summer.”
“I’m working on it. I’m working on everything. Right now, it’s time to work on you.”
She sighed and dropped her hands over her head, and I trailed kisses down her neck, her beautiful breasts, stopping to take each of them in my hands. She cried out as my mouth closed over her the peaks of her nipples, first one, then the other.
“I fucking love these curves,” I growled, dragging slow kisses over her stomach. She tensed, dropping her hands to my shoulders in protest.
“No, I have stretch marks, and that scar-”
“Perfect.” I silenced her self-conscience words with a dizzying kiss, opening her legs and delving deep with my tongue beneath her folds. She panted, mewling something about me being wrong.
When my fingers and my mouth worked in unison, she gave up trying to speak at all, and I wished that there was more light in the bedroom so I could watch her climb into the oblivion I promised her.
She rode the waves of dizzying desire as I moved back over her to sprinkle kisses over her delicate shoulders. I ignored my own pain, using it to remind me of how much pleasure I owed her and vowed to give her before the night was through.
When I pressed inside of her, she gasped, raising her hips to meet mine and rocking with me in the natural way we always seemed to come together. I took my time, gently bringing her again and again to the frenzied height that left her biting back cries of wanting. When she covered her own mouth to keep from moaning too loudly, I gave a breathy laugh, desperately trying to hold back the burgeoning need to come so deeply inside of her.
“I need to come,” I managed, my mouth pressed to her ear as I thrust into her again and again. “I don’t know where we’re at. In our relationship, birth control, any of that shit. I need an answer. Fast.”
She laughed softly, gripping my neck with all of her strength. “Are you asking me if I’ll marry you and maybe have more babies with you?”
“In summary, yes.”
She lifted her head from the pillow, pressing her hot mouth to my ear. “Come inside me, goddamnit.”
That was it for me.
I groaned, gripping her hips and jerking uncontrollably. God, the way she could make me and destroy me all in a matter of seconds was almost terrifying.
She was right. I’d met my match, too.
We had nothing left to say. I used her towel to clean her up and then gathered her into my arms again, tucking her into the crook of my arm as I pulled the comforter over us.
“I’m making you my wife before we leave Pennsylvania.”
“You’re the boss.”
I grinned, threading my fingers through hers. “I don’t think so. You’ve got me right here,” I hushed, tracing my fingers around her pinkie. “Real tight.”
She raised our hands to her bare chest, and I could feel her pounding heart beneath my fingers. “You’ve got me right here. So we’re even.”
I smiled, wondering how in the hell I was ever going to sleep.
. . .
I didn’t sleep.
I’d said my bedtime prayers in that room for so many years, but never had I prayed so hard as I did holding Vivian in my arms that night. I prayed for us to have the peace that we deserved, the chance that kept eluding us, and the family that we’d both longed for.
I gathered Charlie from Robin early the next morning, bringing her to our bed to snuggle between us. Vivian smiled and rolled over, dusting kisses over Charlie’s rosy cheeks to make her coo and smile.
“Mommy and Daddy have some hard things to do this week, Charlie. But you’ll make it better,” I explained softly.
Vivian, as though waking up just enough to realize the sorrowful reason we were back in Pennsylvania, covered her eyes with her hands. I smoothed her tousled hair, consoling her with all of my heart.
I spent every moment at Vivian’s side, and Luke arrived just before the wake began. Vivian knelt at the casket while I stood back with Charlie.
“She sounds like she’s getting hungry,” Luke ventured, gesturing to the diaper bag on the table next to me. “Want me to feed her?”
I straightened my tie, nodding toward Vivian. “I got her. Go see Vivian.”
He was startled, raising one eyebrow. “Is this a trap?”
I smirked. “No. We talked. She loves me. No more bullshit.”
He swallowed hard, nodding and turning toward Vivian. I saw him kneel at her side, and she turned, recognized him, and accepted his open arms. They hugged for a long moment while she cried, and I let them be, moving on to the task of getting a bottle ready for Charlie.
That evening we gathered at my mom’s house as she generously worked to be the best hostess she could for Vivian’s family.
It was too difficult for her parents to stay at her grandmother’s home, and I understood. After Vivian thanked her for the third time, my mom took her hand in hers.
“You are my daughter, and your family is my family,” Jane assured her. “No more thanking me. Just promise me you’ll head up to bed when you’re starting to get tired, darling.”
Vivian obeyed. It was barely ten o’clock before she sent a longing look at the wide staircase. “Do you have Charlie?” she asked me.
“We all have Charlie. Go to bed,” Robin interjected, stepping in to gather her niece into her arms. “Keaton, let her sleep tonight, for fuck’s sake.”
Vivian flushed, and I was sure she was terrified that Robin had heard us the night before. I ignored her, leading Vivian up the stairs to my room. At that point, I was exhausted myself, and we barely made it into bed before she was sound asleep.
The funeral was in the morning, and Vivian’s mother held Charlie during the traditional Catholic mass. Laney Hale had been such a part of the small town that the church was packed, filled with voices telling adoring stories of their memories with their beloved friend.
As we walked to the back of the church, I fished the keys to my mom’s car out of my suit pocket. “I’ll pull the car around-”
“Hi Vivian.”
We turned to see Matthew exiting a rear pew and adjusting his glasses. Vivian widened her eyes, glancing around him.
“Matthew? I’m sorry, I never returned your text, I completely forgot-”
“It’s okay. Meghan is here, she just went to change the baby.”
I watched Vivian’s face as a barrage of emotions passed through her teary blue eyes. “That’s right, you were expecting, congratulations,” she murmured.
At that moment, a blonde woman carrying an infant in her arms moved to his side, and I sized her up immediately. If there existed an opposite of Vivian, it was this girl; blonde, fuller figured, glasses, and clearly shy as she nervously glanced between her husband and Vivian.
“This is my wife, Meghan Fowler, and our son, Matty. Honey, this is Vivian Hale and Keaton Thane.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” she managed. “Congratulations on your movie. I can’t wait to see it,” she hurried, her voice shaking slightly.
“Thank you. Your son,” Vivian murmured, her gaze falling on the baby’s tiny, cherubic face.
I heard her exhale sharply. I knew her too well to know she was okay with what was happening.
I guessed, without a doubt, that the baby looked like their son that they’d lost.
“Nice to meet you. We have to get going; the procession is starting. Fowler,” I managed politely, shaking his hand. “Meghan, a pleasure.”
I had Vivian’s arm in mine as we hurried out the doors, and she made it all the way to the car before lifting her swimming gaze to mine.
“Did I do okay?” she asked, and for a moment, I was taken aback by her question.
“You did just fine, kiddo. I got you.”
She nodded, resting her head on my shoulder. I held her throughout the entire procession to the cemetery.
. . .
There was something to be said for laughter.
That evening, my family and Vivian’s family gathered together, pouring over old photos and remembering Gram’s incredible life.
“She was so patient with me at Sunday school. And I have no idea how,” I commented, handing a photo of Gram teaching a classroom filled with elementary school aged children.
“I remember,” my mom agreed, nodding. “You demanded she explain what the three wise men did during the day time when the star wasn’t out to follow. And you suggested they parked their camels and hung out and played poker.”
The room fell into laughter, and Vivian shook her head at me exasperatedly.
“My fiancé, the troublemaker,” she murmured.
I smiled her way, winking. “Hey, can you take a walk with me outside for a sec?”
She nodded, following me out the front door. I lead her out to the yard beneath the starry night sky, and she looked up at me expectantly. “Uh-oh. You’ve got your up-to-something look on your face, Keaton Thorne.”
I smiled, taking her hand and turning the corner of the huge Victorian house.
The backyard was lit with a thousand tiny, twinkling lights. Just as I’d ordered, white chairs had been set up in rows, allowing for an aisle of grass between both sides. The archway was covered in white roses with a podium in the middle.
The entire right side of the lawn was set up with at least twenty tables, a wooden dance floor, and another thousand twinkling lights strung from four corner poles to the middle of the tables.
“The tent will be set up in the morning. We’re not expecting rain. Everyone important was notified yesterday, and their flights got in this afternoon.”
Her hand pressed to her mouth as she took it all in, gasping at the centerpieces, the floral arrangements, and the décor.
“How did you know I wanted white roses?” she breathed, shaking her head in awe.
“You told me. When I was sleeping,” I added, tapping on the side of my head. “I remember some of the things you said when I was in that coma Vivian, including that you wanted white roses at our wedding.”
“What else do you remember?” she asked, moving to one white, linen tablecloth and running the silken fabric through her fingertips.
“That you wanted me to live,” I whispered.
She nodded, brushing at her tears. “This is… oh Keaton...”
“Our family is here. They’re here for a sad reason. Let’s give them a happy reason to stay one more day.”
“Yes,” she breathed, turning to me to stun me with one of her wide, killer smiles.
“Yes?” I urged, mirroring her incredible grin.
She nodded. “But I need to go to Sears and get a wedding dress!”
I burst into laughter, reaching for her and wrapping her in my arms. “Your dress arrived on the plane. And I promise if you don’t like it I’ll get you something else. I’ll get you whatever you want, whenever you want, for the rest of our lives.”
“Just you,” she whispered against my chest. “You and Charlie. Just us.”
I nodded, tilting her chin to catch her lips in mine. “Always.”
. . .
The next day, I made Vivian my wife.
The past was left behind her with every step down the aisle on that sunny afternoon in my family’s backyard. Her father left her standing at my side, having checked our differences at the door. We were all on the same page that day, and as the words were spoken between us, we never faltered a line in our scripts.
Until death do us part.
She would have been beautiful in just a sundress and her trademark flip-flops, but she stunned me in the strapless, designer gown I’d picked from one of the many daydreams I’d had of our wedding day. Her long, dark hair framed her heart-shaped face in soft ringlets, and never had she looked more like the quintessential Snow White than she did at that moment.
The exclusive few that I’d invited to join us gathered to witness our vows, and I was reassured by the security I’d hired when I heard a helicopter overhead. According to Frank, Twitter had been buzzing all morning with talk of our secret nuptials, and I was thankful that I’d kept my past so private all these years.
The words the officiant spoke were traditional, meaningful, and yet I needed to say my own words to Vivian as I held her hands before our family and friends.
“You’re my family, Vivian. I’ve loved the idea of you long before I found you, and I thank God every day that I found you so soon. I can’t wait to wake up every day and make you smile like that.”
She smiled even brighter, those stunning blue eyes sparkling back at me in the afternoon sunshine.
“Keaton,” she began, her voice resonating with a waver that only I could hear, “you’re the reason that I believe in fairy tales. The good parts and the bad. And you’ve shown me that no matter what ha
ppens, you’ll always be my hero. And I’ll never stop falling in love with you.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to sweep her into my arms at that moment, and in an effort to capture her entire smile in mine, I dipped her for the most Hollywood kiss I could manage.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
We danced to every song that night, and I rode the high of the love I had for her like no other drug I’d ever experienced. The open bar never tempted me once, and as I held my wife and daughter in my arms, I knew there wasn’t one thing in the entire world that could make me happier.
I was born to love her.
Five Years Later
Hereafter
V
“A ponytail. To the Oscars.”
“I told you. I do what I want.”
Keaton smirked, adjusting his tie. “I am well aware of that.”
I grinned.
“Daddy!” Charlie shouted, running full-force at Keaton. He caught her in his arms, swinging her up and over his shoulders.
“Look at Mommy. Isn’t she so pretty?” he coaxed, and Charlie nodded enthusiastically, her dark curls bobbing in the air.
“She’s Best Actress in a Potion Picture.”
“Motion Picture. Yes she is. I’m sure of it,” Keaton corrected, glancing down at his watch. “And she better hurry because the limo will be here any minute.”
“I go too?” Frankie whined, appearing in the doorway and rubbing her sleepy eyes. The four-year-old looked up at her big sister. “Charlie and me go too?”
“Not tonight, dolls,” Keaton answered with a big smile. “But you can watch it on TV with Uncle Luke and Aunt Beth.”
“Yay! Can Aunt Beth make us milkshakes?” Charlie asked, kicking her feet excitedly against Keaton’s shoulders.
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