by Kate Stewart
“You want to play villain instead of victim? Fine. But unless you can admit to being both we have nowhere to go.”
Shock filtered through me as she challenged me. I stood slack-jawed as she called me out on my last lie. I couldn’t look away from the woman I loved. Her commanding eyes washed me in their blue fire, and in a way, I felt cleansed. I’d never been more vulnerable in my life. Every card I had was laid bare at her feet, every emotion I felt reflected in her eyes. I had nowhere to go.
She pressed in, seeing it all. “No more secrets, Cameron and no more hiding. She’s the goddamn bad guy. She hurt you physically and mentally and she doesn’t get a pass for that. Especially not from you.”
“What do you want?” I said as acid lit my veins.
“I want the truth.”
“You want me to admit being a victim? Fine. I’m a victim, but it was never by choice, and I fought my way out of that hell by myself, so I think I’m entitled to a little discretion. No man in the world wants to admit to anything like that. No man in the world ever wants to talk about anything like that, Abbie.”
I glanced around the sidewalk and found we were alone. “You think I wanted you to know, to see she hit me?”
“I did see. I saw it, I just didn’t know what I was seeing! And I can tell you now, I will never be able to forget it. She hurt you. Do you think you’re somehow less of a man because of it? She did this, that makes her a coward. You’re still a man, Cameron. And you’re still going to bleed no matter how strong you are. She’s the fucking villain, not you. Just tell me you know that much.”
My throat filled with acid and I slowly nodded.
“You didn’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m sorry. But I had my reasons. You saw them. They were written all over my face. I had to protect my happiness, but what I had with my mom I lost, and what I thought I had with Kat was beaten out of me. So, I’m sorry I fucking lied to you. I shouldn’t have. But it was over with her a long time ago. You weren’t the only one afraid of masks, Abbie. Not by a damn long shot.”
She nodded and looked down at the cement below us. “My ex, Luke,” she started.
“I know,” I interrupted.
“What?” She said in a whisper.
“Your brother,” I said connecting the dots. “I know.”
She swallowed. “When?”
“The night of Bree’s wedding. He tracked me down at the bar. Mrs. Zingaro, too. She slipped up one night after you went upstairs. She said he attacked you and her son stopped him.”
“It wasn’t their place,” she said tightening her hold on her bag.
“I just wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear it from you.”
Residual anger stirred as I recalled the conversation with her brother.
“It seems so pointless now anyway,” she said carefully.
“Don’t do that, don’t compare yours to mine. Don’t do that,” I said stuffing my hands in my coat. “Tell me, Abbie.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to relive it. I don’t need to. I’ve done enough of that. I got fixated and it wasn’t healthy. If you know anything you know enough. He was controlling and manipulative and he scared the shit of me. But the thing is, I got over it without you. And you helped me stomp the rest of my fears out. I don’t want or need you to know every detail and I don’t need to know yours unless you want to tell me. It’s just some bad shit that happened to us on the way to each other. And if it keeps us apart, they win. I didn’t want to admit my weakness for a man who used me any more than you wanted to tell me about Kat. And I know you tried. I knew we weren’t invincible, Cameron. We have plenty of chinks in our armor. I know that, it’s life, but with you I feel a hell of a lot stronger. That night I found out about Kat, I was afraid when you got upset, but in my heart, I know you would never hurt me. I won’t believe that now or ever. You just aren’t capable. And it’s not that I’m glad this happened, but in loving you, I realized I could trust myself again. Luke’s gone, you’re here, that’s all that matters. I just want you to be sure.”
I swallowed her hard admission as she had mine and did my best not to ask any more questions, specifically those of an address. When Oliver left me at the bar that night, he was none the wiser, other than what doubt I could try to erase that I genuinely loved his sister.
And I was destroyed by the news she’d been treated that way. It only fed my head to the bullshit notion she was better off without me. But that’s what it was, bullshit and she was calling me out on it.
If I wanted her to believe, I had to believe it myself.
“I miss you so much,” I said studying her profile in the half-light casting shadows from the café. “Losing you is killing me. Just tell me what to do.”
Her anger disappeared as she looked up at me.
“Tell me what you want, Cameron. Don’t give me the answer you think I need, just tell me what you want.”
“Jesus Christ,” I choked out. “What I want? Abbie, all I want, all I’ll ever want again, is you.”
And in that moment as I looked at her, I believed we were absolute.
A lifetime of promises raced through me as I stared down at her. “I will never keep anything from you again,” I said softly as I took her face in my hands and made the first promise to shimmering blue eyes. “Ever. And I’ll never let you go again without the fight you deserve. Everything you think you aren’t, I can tell you right now you are, to me you are. And if loving me is what you’re good at, I’ll spend my whole life earning that affection. I want this, with you, until I’m not breathing. I need you to remember that when shit gets tough. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed easily as if we were making simple plans for the day ahead instead of decisions on our future.
She’d just given me back my life, my happiness and I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead out of words as my heart stuttered in relief. “Okay.”
Chinese food in hand, I walked down Milwaukee Avenue as the sun set. I passed the graffiti walls and strode underneath the squeaking train as I made my way home. I’d taken the long route because Abbie liked her Lo Mein cold, the weirdo. I grinned as I thought of her text.
Me: Dinner tonight?
Witchy Woman: Will sucky suck for some sweet and sour soup and shrimp lo mein. Me love you long time.
Me: You’re geeking out again, babe.
Witchy Woman: Fine, no sucky for you. Just get the food.
When I was growing up, I never really gave love a second thought. It was just something I was supposed to have. A futuristic endeavor of . . . eventually or when the time was right. At the time of my choosing, I always assumed I’d have it when I wanted it.
I’d never been more fucking wrong.
Love in all its splendor is a damned nightmare if kept secluded to a timeline. You don’t just stumble upon the love of your life and expect things to work out in your favor.
Love by its definition is a lie, its true definition is work and a fuck lot of it.
It also means so much more than that one syllable. It’s a one-word representation of everything that can make or break a person. Love is only meant for the brave.
I didn’t know when I was younger that I had love. I had the love of the first girl I bedded in high school. I remember feeling it and dismissing it for some other time. I had the love of my college sweetheart but never really returned her affections, always knowing in the back of my mind that she wasn’t the one I would marry. That’s a harsh truth. That makes me a bastard in a way. I’d abused her affections for my own personal gain and to pass the time.
The brutal truth about my ex-wife was that I’d married her because I loved her just enough and the timing was right. It was another bastard move on my part. And I still can’t help but wonder if somewhere deep-down Kat knew it too, and that’s what ruined us. I didn’t love her like I should’ve.
In hindsight, I’d fucked it all up with my assumptions about something I’d never truly experienced. I honestly feel like
I could have loved my high school sweetheart. But I’ll never know, because that’s how I taught myself how to love, by timing and convenience.
With Abbie, the timing was both right and wrong. I had no right and every right to fall in love with her. It didn’t matter, because she was the one I was supposed to give my heart to.
But I got knocked on my ass—because of my arrogance and sense of entitlement—when loving her showed me different.
Hers was the love I craved all along. It was a gift. And real love is a fucking miracle. And if you’re lucky enough to find it, you throw every one of your preconceived notions away and you hold onto it with every ounce of your being, because it’s unforgiving in its wrath and if you’re not careful it will let go of you as fast as it took hold.
Love broke us both and put us back together.
I was going to hold on to my love for Abbie, so tight that it hurt. And I would let it hurt as a reminder of how lucky I was to have her. I would never find another love like what I had with her, not in my lifetime.
And I was done bending to the timeline.
The day my divorce was final, I asked Abbie to be my wife.
I turned the key and walked into our three-flat.
“Abbie?” I called out as I looked around the living room. The TV was on and her purse and cell phone were on the coffee table along with a pharmacy bag. I went upstairs to find her in the bathroom.
“Abbie?” I knocked on the door. “You in there, baby? Did you freak yourself out watching Tru-Crime again? I told you to cut that shit out when I’m not home.”
I could hear her light laugh behind the door. “Nooo, come in.”
She stood in the middle of her bathroom with a pregnancy test in hand. I was sure she could see the surprise in my eyes as she held the test behind her back.
“So,” she waggled her brows with animation. “How do you feel about kids?”
Mouth gaping, I took in her appearance. It was my favorite day—slob day—
and I loved it when she dressed down. Without a stitch of makeup on, I could see the faint line of freckles over her nose and everything God intended for me to see when he created the woman standing in front of me.
Every part of her a thing of beauty, every curve and nuance. From her flame-licked hair to the tips of her toes, I loved everything I saw. I couldn’t help the subtle turn of my lips as I stuck my hands in my slacks and leaned against the door in an attempt to keep my poker face.
“I thought we were safe.”
She frowned. “We have sex, so there’s always a chance. We have lots of sex, so lots of chances. Don’t stall or give me a rehearsed answer, tell me the truth.”
Just as I suspected, she didn’t let my silence stand as she commanded my attention, all five-foot-five of her. She didn’t have to do much to earn it, she had it the minute I laid eyes on her.
“I love you,” I said easily. The answer to the rest of my life in the palm of her hand, both literally and figuratively.
Her eyes watered as she stood on shaky ground. I knew whatever answer I gave had the ability to break her heart, but I gave her the truth anyway.
“You will come first, always and forever unless we have a piece of life we created together. Then he or she will have to come first. So, if you can handle being second I can handle being a dad. But I promise to always make you feel like first.”
I could feel every bit of pent-up tension in her shoulders leave her as she spoke. “Good, I’m thinking you have several months to put a crib together.”
She flew into my arms and kissed me soundly on the mouth. My heart ignited with a new kind of burn that told me I had everything in the world to lose. It scared the shit out of me and elated me at the same time. I kissed the ring that covered her dainty finger and then held her crystal blue eyes.
“Baby,” I whispered.
“Baby,” she whispered back as I pushed her sweatshirt off her shoulders and bared her breasts. She let out a moan as I dipped and captured a peaked nipple into my mouth.
“Cameron,” she pleaded as I made quick work of freeing her clothes and lifted her to sit on the vanity.
“When did you suspect?” I asked as I pushed her knees apart and stood between them.
“Last week. My stomach started doing strange flips and I felt nauseous for a second. This morning, I got sick,” she answered, her breath speeding up as I massaged her sides with my fingers.
I leaned in and kissed her deep and she moaned into my mouth before I pulled her closer. Bending, I bit the space between her shoulder as she clutched me. I loved the feel of her in my arms, the way she fit me. My hand trailed down to the silky skin of her abdomen and I dipped to cover it with my lips. Her head fell back against the mirror and I knelt in front of her.
“Abbie,” I said as she tilted her head to look down at me, her beautiful blues full of love and promise.
“This is the best day of my life.”
“Nothing can trump today?”
“I know you will. I know it will happen,” I said spreading her thighs and pressing my lips to her creamy skin. Goosebumps erupted as she gripped my shoulders before I darted my tongue out.
“Oh God,” she moaned as she ran a hand through my hair before she gripped it hard with my next lick. “I’m going to come.”
“Already?” I said my attention drifting between her perfect peach nipples and her parted mouth, “I think I like you pregnant. Much easier to get you off,” I murmured into her slit before I devoured it like a madman.
My baby was growing inside her, and in a month’s time, she would be my wife. Everything about our progression felt natural, and the baby along with its mother had become my sole purpose in life.
Months ago, I was just a man searching for some sort of happiness when I met Abbie. With her, I would never need to look far. It was all there, my present, my future, my forever.
“I love you so much,” I whispered as I licked and sucked her into screaming my name. Her legs shook with the weight of her orgasm as I slowed to a stop and grinned up at her.
“Who’s your baby daddy?” I chuckled when she sank against me as I stood. I picked her up as she gave me a lazy smile, pulling me closer with every step I took. I saw it in her eyes the minute her mind kicked into overdrive.
“Are you really happy? I was religious with the pill. I promise. But I don’t want this to be an ‘oops’ baby. I want you to want him or her.”
“This could never be an ‘oops’ baby. Damn, woman, don’t doubt it for a second,” I said as I laid her across our bed. “I want whatever comes with being with you and lots of chances. And you, my future wife, are going to be full of surprises.”
“Really? You’re really happy?”
I frowned. “Is this pregnancy hormones or are you afraid I may really not want this baby?”
“I don’t know,” she said in a low voice as I stood up and slipped off my shoes.
Eyeing her naked and ready, I stripped my clothes anxiously to get closer, knowing even when I was buried as deep as I could go, I could never get close enough.
I loved her abundant for two lifetimes. Something I’d never had before and couldn’t get enough of. I was addicted to her voice, her skin, her smile and her moans, her. In her, I discovered a new kind of love that came with a healthy addiction.
In a new world of second chances, I was the luckiest son of a bitch alive. I knew it. And I would never take it for granted. I vowed the day I put the ring on her finger never to lie to my future again, no matter how ugly my past, how distasteful my present thoughts may be.
All lying did in a relationship is delay the inevitable. Because no matter how hard you tried to be someone else with the person you loved, the truth revealed itself one way or another, either in anger, frustration or hurt. Good or bad she would get it all.
“I want this baby, I want you, I want our life. Every day. That won’t change. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said with a breathtaking smile. “Now, please don�
�t take this the wrong way, but I want you to fuck me.”
I couldn’t hold in my chuckle. “As opposed to?”
“Making love. I want to be fucked.”
Smirking I pushed in and buried my cock until she was milking it.
“God . . . yes,” she groaned. I stopped my hips until her expectant eyes met mine.
“You just challenged my manhood woman, prepare to pay for that.”
I didn’t give her a chance to reply.
“I’m a mom!” I announced to Bree on the phone. “I’m so knocked up! Two months! I didn’t even know. I’ve had like fifteen glasses of wine. Are we okay?”
Her laugh across the line was hysterical.
“I had a feeling you were when you were scratching your nipples at dinner the other night.
“I was?”
“Yep, I thought it was your bra but then thought about it later.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“And ruin the sound of your voice right now. No way. It’s better that you found out organically and with Cameron. So much sweeter that way. And I watched you drink most of that wine. You’ll be fine.”
“Where are you?” I asked. “I want to celebrate.”
“At your front door,” she answered. Cameron’s lips twisted when the bell rang.
He could hear every word, of course, because Bree. He’d been stroking the skin of my belly with his fingertips and winked at me as I sat up.
“You told her to come over?” He nodded and kissed his favorite freckle. “Yep, now I get to go play ball.”
“You ass,” I said as I smacked him on his mesh-covered butt. “You could’ve just gone.”
“You guys decent?” Bree called from the hall.
“You may enter,” I said as Cameron stood.
“That’s what she said,” both Cameron and Bree spoke at the same time as she ended our call. I rolled my eyes at the two of them.
Cameron had made it his mission to beat her to the punch. He was getting good at it. Annoyingly good.
“Congrats on your winning sperm!” Bree said to Cameron.
“Thank you,” Cameron cooed back as he finished tying his Nikes and gave her a celebratory hug.