A Love So Wrong: A Forbidden Romance

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A Love So Wrong: A Forbidden Romance Page 8

by Katerina Winters


  "Our perfect home—it feels broken now," she spoke thickly into the fabric of his shirt. "Like all the light has been let out of it."

  Inside of her room now, Gideon walked over to the side of her bed and gently placed her on top of the covers. Removing her shoes, he sat them down before planting one hand on the side of her head and lowering himself down to place a kiss on her forehead. "Not all the light is gone. You and I are still here, still together," he said.

  Guilt tangled with realization in her eyes as she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, surprising him with her sudden strength as she pulled him closer to her. "I love you, Gideon, I will never leave you. Only when you get some horrible girlfriend, I most likely won't like and force me to take a step back out of your life, only then will I leave."

  Letting himself fall the rest of the way to her bed, Gideon lay draped playfully on top of her. Ignoring her groaning complaint at his weight, he lay there for a moment inhaling deeply before he eventually stood up straight and gave her a lopsided grin. "Get some sleep and stop worrying about things that will never happen."

  Chapter 7

  Jade was sitting at the dining table, working on her senior calculus homework when the backdoor opened. After a few moments of listening to the sound of the door closing and two audible thumps of dirty boots hitting the rubber mat by the door, she finally saw Gideon enter through the den to the living room.

  Seeing the tired smile on his face and his slow movements, she quickly got up. "Sit down, and I will bring you the food," she called out before rushing to the kitchen.

  Now that it was just the three of them, Gideon had taken over all of Henry's routes, including his own. Being a small independently owned trucking company, they really couldn't afford to lose the few contracts they did have. Understanding Gideon's new predicament, the university allowed him to drop out of the football program and still keep two years of school fully paid, something Jade was truly happy about. She never did like the brutal sport. Now taking additional community college classes to keep the cost low and working two full routes each day, the carefree college life Gideon experienced only months before was gone, and whatever happiness she gained knowing he was no longer putting himself in danger on the football field was eaten away by that fact.

  Slipping on the oven mitts, she pulled the pan of foil-covered fried chicken from the oven along with a pot of broccoli and rice casserole. Setting them on the dinner table, she could feel Gideon's eyes on her as he leaned both palms onto the back of the empty wooden dining chair.

  "My God, that smells good," he inhaled audibly as she went to grab him a glass of unsweetened tea.

  Setting down the glass, she smiled as she slipped back into her chair.

  Pulling out the chair next to her, he leaned over and placed a loud kiss on the side of her cheek, causing her to laugh. "You have no idea how hungry I was," he admitted as he grabbed one of the drumsticks.

  Propping her elbow on the table, she looked down at her scribbled notes along the margins of the book and stared at it tiredly. The moment mom had fallen asleep, Jade had turned off the TV and connected her Bluetooth speaker to her phone's internet radio. Low, mellow notes of jazz drifted in the quiet air around them. Lately, peace like this was only something she found late at night once Gideon was back.

  After inhaling two more drumsticks, a huge scooping of casserole, and a whole glass of tea, Gideon's initial starved hunger seemed to be somewhat sated. Spreading his long legs underneath the table as he sat back and relaxed in his chair, Gideon purposely barricaded one of her bare feet between his jean-clad legs forcing her to meet his gaze.

  Grinning that he got her attention, Gideon cocked his head to the side in question. "So, how was she tonight?"

  Relaxing in her own chair, she stacked her free leg on top of his and gave him a rueful look. "I had to give her the sleeping medication the doctor prescribed her if that is any indication."

  Setting down his fork, Gideon wiped his mouth with the napkin in his mouth with a look of disgust. "Damn it."

  Reaching out, she put her hand on top of his clenched fist, doing her best to head his anger off at the pass. "It's no big deal she was just sad and angry,"

  "It is a big deal, Jade," he argued, his amber eyes searching her to understand. "Does she not think we aren’t sad and angry too?"

  Anger glittered briefly in his eyes before he looked back down at his plate. With measured movements, he carefully refilled his plate, as if each gesture was costing his barely contained patience.

  "How hard do you think it would be to convince mom to let me repaint this room just a fresh, clean white?" she suddenly asked, changing the subject.

  Gideon took a rather savage bite from the drumstick in his hand as he passed a considering gaze around the dining room. After a moment, he finally replied dryly. "Only if for some reason the paint suddenly melted off the wall, and there was a simultaneous embargo on the color peach nationwide."

  Jade nodded with a laugh. He was right, she thought as she stared around the cluttered dining room. From the moment they moved into the house, the dining room had always been a faded peach color. With a large brown dining table and an equally enormous matching curio cabinet filled to the brim with porcelain figurines, the overall peach and brown effect perfectly ruined the great potential for the midcentury home.

  "I love this house, even with its ugly dining room and mountains of clutter here and there," she said dreamily as she looked around the room she had spent earlier that evening straightening and cleaning.

  Stacking his empty plate neatly in the empty casserole pan, Gideon leaned forward and gave her an eager look.

  "Let's go out and sit by the pond," he suggested. "You need it, and God almighty, I need it too."

  Scrunching up her nose, she shook her head. "It's freezing out there."

  Gideon gave her a deadpan stare in return. "It's forty-eight degrees," he declared dryly. "You know if we ever do have to enact Henry's plan, we will be traveling in states that can get in the negatives, right?"

  Jade let out a heaving sigh at the mention of the plan. The plan this, the plan that, she swore it was all Gideon ever talked about now. She should've known it would have been only a matter of time when he sat down before bringing the darn thing back up again. This ultimate "plan B" failsafe that he and Henry devised was always referred to with such a doomsday tone. They had no idea if they would ever even need it, but she knew it was no use making that argument. Because every time she did, Gideon would just repeat to her what dad had told them about Ron and that he knew how his son operated, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Ron showed up again.

  "Yes, yes, I know," she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'm just too tired to try and go out and brave that cold right now." Seeing the question in his astute gaze, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand and slumped in her seat. "After I got home from school, mom was…she was just being a nightmare. Nothing was right for her. She started in on me, saying she didn't like the way I had moved her stuff when I cleaned up yesterday."

  "God forbid a little organization happens to her craft areas, which are more like giant piles of crap she never puts away." Gideon groaned, letting his head hang back. Staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes with a sigh.

  Jade couldn’t stop her gaze from focusing on the muscles in his neck or the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each movement. It seemed so strong and pronounced in this position, subconsciously she touched the same spot in her own neck.

  When he lifted his head and looked back at her, she quickly dropped her hand and nodded. "Yes, well, she was mad that you weren't going to be back in time for dinner." Holding out a hand, she looked up to the ceiling as she began ticking off the various reasons for mom frustrations. "She was mad her favorite show got replaced with another, she was upset she couldn't find her favorite pair of scissors, she forgot to do laundry, and then she just started crying," Jade made a half moan half groaning noise at the memor
y of the disintegration.

  Never in her life had she seen anyone cry like that before. Ever since Henry's death, Jade and Gideon were both at a loss on how to handle the near-constant episodes. It wasn't the normal type of crying of anyone going through grief that Jade had experienced. Everything she had read online only mentioned moments of overwhelming sadness and subsequent tears but not long, never-ending fits of wailing that reminded Jade of an infant rather than a woman in her sixties. It was so overwhelming and jarring, Jade realized it never really gave her any time to really grieve herself. By the time she was able to work her mother through one of the episodes, Jade was too exhausted to have time for her own sadness.

  "Eventually," she continued. "I just had to give her a cup of chamomile tea and a sleeping pill," she said tiredly. Quietly, she added, "It just feels like nothing I do is ever good enough."

  "Hey, don't put that on yourself," Gideon leaned forward. The wide range of his shoulders blocked out the living room behind him as he leaned forward until she had no choice but to focus on the six-foot-plus ex-football player in front of her. "Mom has been like this in some degree or another from the moment we met her, and God bless dad for being the one to willingly dedicate his life to it. But now that he's gone…well, you know what dad told us."

  It would only get worse, she repeated mentally. Those five words echoed silently between them, with no need to be spoken aloud.

  The pitter-patter sound of rain hitting the metal vent-a-hood over the stove in the kitchen lulled over the room like a blanket of quiet.

  Standing from his seat, Gideon grabbed his dishes and walked over to the dining room window, and pushed the blinds apart with one finger to stare out into the night.

  "Saved by the rain," he said, tossing her a dimpled grin over his shoulder as he walked back and picked up his dirty dishes. Placing the dishes in the washing machine, he started it. Coming back to the dining room, he stopped behind her chair. The warm feel of his big hands sliding around her shoulders made her jump slightly.

  With a gentle grip on her shoulders, he silently urged her to get up from the chair. "Come on, let's go sit in the den. I'll even let you snuggle under the blanket with me."

  Jade's heart clenched at that, and she wasn't too ashamed to admit to herself that that sounded perfect. Turning the dining and living room lights off as they passed by, they left the house completely dark in their wake. Going into the den, he shut the door that led to the living room and the other that connected to the laundry hall. Completely shut off from the rest of the house, he flipped on the dim lamp by the side of the couch. Much like the glow from a candle, the lamp’s creamy yellow light barely covered the room. Flopping onto the couch first, Gideon patted the spot directly at his side. As soon as she sat down and her back hit the comfy sofa, Jade could feel the tension immediately dissipate from her body. Between school and coming home and dealing with mom all evening, she was exhausted.

  "Is it terrible of me that some days after having to deal with mom all day, I sometimes wish we could enact the plan now?" she confessed softly.

  Gideon stiffened beside her, his large arm that was draped behind her head along the top of the sofa dropped down to her shoulder and hugged her closer to him. For the briefest second, Jade closed her eyes, allowing herself to bask in the warmth from his body. Pulled closer to him, she could clearly feel the hard, defined ridges of his oblique muscles.

  "No," he finally answered. "It's not terrible at all, but I don't want you to get the wrong impression about it, Jade," he said, turning so that she could see the serious glint in his eyes. "It won't be temporary, nor will it be fun. This would be me and you living day in and day out in a seventy-seven-inch sleeper rig for the foreseeable future. Our home, our friends, and everything we know will boil down to just you and me and everything we can fit in the rig."

  Each word had the same amount of force behind it as a hammer did to a nail. She could see by the low furrow of his brow and the harsh set of his jaw that the plan was not at all something he wanted to execute.

  Seeing the sudden worry in her face, Gideon's expression softened, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tighter against him until her cheek was pressed against his chest.

  "I don't mean to scare you," his voice rumbled beneath her ear, and she vaguely wondered when it was exactly that his confidently smooth boy voice from when they were children roughened and changed to the deep assured tone of a man. "I'm probably just projecting my own fear onto you," he continued. "I heard from Andy that his cousin, who works at the meatpacking plant outside of Holter, apparently knows a man who is best friends with Ron."

  Jade didn’t miss the way he said Ron's name as if he was speaking of a leper.

  "And you know how gossip is in this town," Gideon said.

  Jade nodded. Gossip was the only thing in this town that could give the speed of light a run for its money. Once this so-called friend had found out about Henry Lattimores’ death, it was only a matter of time before that news got to Ron.

  "Well, hopefully, he won't want to come here," Jade could hear the pathetic attempt at optimism in her own voice.

  Gideon didn't say anything. It was Henry who acted as a shield against his first son, but now that he was gone, it was only a matter of time. Legally, Ron had just as much claim to come back and be with his mother as they did, and from what Henry had told them, Sandra would let him do just that.

  "And besides, maybe he's changed," she tried again.

  Gideon grunted. "Hopefully, we'll never have to find out.”

  ~*~

  For weeks their lives progressed in the same blissful routine. Jade would come home after school and sit with their mother as she worked on some various projects or another. Sweaters, blankets, doilies, and quilts were being churned out faster than Jade could go to the craft supply store. But each time Jade found herself in line at the store with her mother holding skeins of yarn and quilting squares, Jade reminded herself this was all for the sake of everyone's sanity. Preoccupied and content were emotions she and Gideon could handle with their mother instead of the unpredictable bouts of manic depression.

  It was the evenings Jade looked forward to the most. With slow baby steps, Jade had established a new routine with their mother. Getting up earlier than normal, they took that time in the breaking morning light and ate breakfast together as a family. At that moment, they were almost how they once were. They smiled and laughed as they recounted their previous day to their mother, all the while ignoring the prominent empty spot at the table. Together, they ignored the shadows of fatigue under both Gideon's and her eyes as they lived in that peaceful moment of happiness. And after long hours spent at school on both her and Gideon's part, they went off to their prospective duties until they met once again that night. That was when they finally released the breath they held all day. That was where they truly celebrated Gideon's Christmas Eve birthday with cake and sparkling cider. There in that den was where they relaxed nightly under the small island of yellow light in the dark house recounting the rigors of their day and silently assuring the other that it would all get easier in the future.

  ~*~

  "I think I want to get a new sewing machine," Sandra announced.

  It was Saturday, and Jade had just come back from the grocery store. Pulling out a jar of pickles from her bag, Jade paused and turned to her mother who was looking at her with excitement from the couch and pointed to her laptop screen. Grabbing the remote, Jade turned down the loud TV playing a rerun of a public court show.

  "See, look at this one. Isn't it wonderful?" Sandra exclaimed as Jade stepped closer to see what she was referring to on the screen. "It's computerized, so you will need to help me like you did the last one Henry bought for me, but I think if I…"

  "Momma," Jade interjected gently, looking at the seven-hundred-dollar price for the machine. "We can’t afford to get a new machine right now."

  "What are you talking about?" Sandra frowned. "Of course
, we can."

  Jade steeled herself. "You know dad left us strict instructions on how to use the money," she began slowly. Jade recalled that day very clearly when Henry finally confessed a portion of his plans with his wife, leaving out the plan-b portion he concocted with Gideon. "The trust he set up for you and this house and all the bills are strictly set up not to be touched."

  "I'm not talking about that silly trust, Jade," Sandra shook her head irritably.

  Her and Gideon had listened quietly from the hallway as Henry sat from his spot propped up on the bed and told Sandra very patiently that Gideon would be overseeing the terms of the trust account that paid out the house's utilities, property taxes, maintenance, medical bills, and groceries. With only a little less than two hundred thousand, that account was supposed to see to Sandra for the rest of her life. If any large medical bill came up or emergency, or worse, her being placed in Stardust Cove’s senior living facility, it would all have to come from that account. Frugality and planning were key, Gideon would not spend one penny of that on a sewing machine. That day Sandra had yelled and cried to Henry that he was treating her like a child making her own son the account executive over their estate and funds, but after a while of continued crying, Sandra eventually understood Henry would not budge on his decision.

 

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