by Paige Hill
The sliding glass door swings open and Celeste exits, still holding the little ball of pink. I’m starting to wonder if I will ever be able to look at her and not feel pain.
Emily stands to take her. “You guys go ahead and eat. I need to feed Allie,” she says walking back in to the house.
Bennie snags the seat she just vacated, throwing me a knowing look.
Celeste looks around the table and I see her shoulders slump slightly as she realizes the only available seat is the space next to me. I’m positive this was done by design.
I let her get settled and make her plate before I make a move. I’m fucking terrified that she’s going to refuse to acknowledge me.
“Hi,” I whisper, lamely. Her body stiffens.
“Hey,” she responds, and I internally celebrate a little victory.
“I’m sorry,” I exhale, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Everyone else is lost in conversations, each one drowning out our timid voices.
“Going straight for the elephant, huh?” she questions dryly, but the corner of her lip twitches.
“Sorry, subtlety isn’t my strong suit.”
“No kidding,” she smiles, and it lights up her entire face. I can feel the warmth against my skin.
I go for broke. “I know I don’t deserve it, but do you think you could give me a chance to explain?” The vulnerability I hear in my own voice pisses me off, but there are things she needs to hear. Things I need her to hear. She takes a deep breath and I pray that patience is the substance filling her lungs.
“Yes,” she says on an exhale.
Thank fuck.
“There is something I want to show you. Can you meet me at my apartment tonight?” I know I’m pushing my luck, but this needs to be done. Her eyes wash over my face searching for something—but what, I’m unsure.
“I’m not expecting anything from you other than to hear me out, Celeste. I just want to explain a few things. You deserve that much.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and her eyes start to glisten. “Okay,” she croaks over whatever emotion is coursing through her.
“Thank you,” I speak low, taking an even bigger risk and squeeze her hand under the table. She looks away quickly but squeezes my hand back and I feel relief all the way to my toes.
When I get back to my meal, I look up and my eyes catch Declan’s. He’s watching me intently. I shake my head at him, subtly telling him to back off. He must understand the universal form of silent communication because he nods, turning back to his plate.
A knot the size of Texas forms in my gut at the thought of sharing my past with Celeste. I never talk about her anymore and that makes me feel ashamed.
When dinner is finished, we all hang around to help clean up. I’m standing outside gathering paper plates when I smell her presence behind me. Regardless of how tonight turns out, I’ll never forget that smell.
“I’ll be by at eight if that’s okay?”
Her expression is guarded, but she is the one to approach me, so I’ll take that as another victory.
“Perfect.”
She nods and heads back through the sliding glass doors.
The entire drive from the party back to my apartment is spent trying to work out what I’m going to say. The shitty thing is that I’m no closer to finding an answer. I don’t want to just dive in head first.
Shaking out my hands for the thousandth time in the last couple of hours, I try to quell the growing nerves. Grabbing the bottle of Marcassin Vineyard, I walk into the living room. This is going to be a difficult conversation and I get the feeling she’s going to need it.
“Mr. Briggs,” Ernesto’s youthful voice comes through the speaker. “You have a visitor.” There is a shuffling noise like someone is covering the mic, right before he whispers, “A hot one, too”.
A wide grin takes over at his blatant statement. If he were a day over nineteen, it might have pissed me off. I’m pretty certain he graduated high school this year.
“That, she is,” I agree, smiling in spite of the heaviness the visit holds. “Send her up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Panic starts to rise as I imagine her footsteps nearing. Each step pounds in my ears.
Deep breaths. You can get through this.
She’s worth the pain.
I repeat the mantra until my doorbell rings. I swear to God I’m having a stroke because every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire.
Opening the door, I involuntarily let the air out of my lungs. A small bloom of hope blossoms deep inside.
She dressed up for me.
She looks like a bohemian bride. The thought should give me hives, but it doesn’t. Standing before me in a white halter style summer dress, she smiles tentatively. The dress falls to her ankles and has intricate bands of lace under her breasts. She’s fucking gorgeous.
“Hi.” I start this song and dance all over again.
“Hey,” she smiles at me and I feel it in a place I’ve long thought dead.
I move from the doorway, allowing her entrance and gesture to the couch.
“Come in.”
She looks around the room, no doubt taking in the familiarity. I would give anything to know what’s going through her head.
She sits on the edge of the leather sofa; her posture remains rigid.
“Why is this so damn weird?” she asks me out of the blue. Her question is straight forward, and I appreciate the hell out of that.
Because you have the potential to destroy me.
“I don’t know,” I let out a nervous chuckle and take a seat next to her. “I haven’t been this nervous around a woman since I was sixteen.”
She rewards me with an amused grin and asks, “Do you mind if I—” she points toward the wine.
“Not at all.” I pour her a hearty glass and watch intently as her throat works the liquid courage.
Fuck. Just rip the Band-Aid off already.
“I didn’t kiss her back,” I blurt, making her choke on the wine. “I’m sorry, but I need to get this all out and I figure I might as well get it over with.”
Surprise colors her face but she doesn’t speak, allowing me to continue.
“I was waiting for you,” I say watching her expression closely. She doesn’t move a single muscle. I’m not even confident she’s breathing. “I didn’t even know she was there. I was watching the crowd, growing anxious because I was afraid you might bail. The crowd started to count down and with each passing second my anxiety creeped up. At the last couple of seconds, she latched onto me like a goddamned octopus.” My face grimaces at the memory. “The look on your face—it gutted me. I never meant to hurt you.” I look up, pleading for her to believe me.
Her voice is hoarse when she asks, “Who is she?”
“My ex-fiancée,” I state matter-of-factly. “She lives in Georgia. I had no idea she would follow me there, I knew she was in town, though. She showed up at my work earlier that afternoon.” I don’t want any lingering questions, so I elaborate. “I was once very close to her grandfather. I’ve known them most of my life. She came to tell me he’s dying.”
Grief must be evident in my features because her hand snakes out, squeezing mine.
“He passed away last month.” The words taste bitter as they leave my lips. I should have gone to the funeral, but I couldn’t chance seeing Gwen again. I can’t fall down that emotional rabbit hole.
“I’m so sorry, Aiden.” Sincerity shines in her vivid green eyes.
“Now things make sense, though.”
“What do you mean?” I ask wondering what part she is referring to.
“Just some of the things she said to me. I’m sorry I refused to listen. I was hurt and pissed at myself for feeling that way.”
“Thanks, but I understand why you didn’t. I gave you no reason to,” I shrug, like it didn’t gut me.
“Thank you for your honesty.” She looks around the room again and I can feel the mood shift. “Look, I apologize for th
e role I played in this, but—” I cut her off.
“She wasn’t the only problem,” I finish for her. When she shakes her head in agreeance, I keep talking. “Like you said before, I’m a fucked-up person, but so many of us are.” I look to the floor, trying to gather my thoughts and force the lump in my throat back into my stomach. “I don’t know how to do this,” I gesture between her body and mine. “I thought I was a good man. I thought I could be a good husband, but she proved me wrong. There is so much left unsaid.”
“Okay,” she says, her voice shaky as she allows me to continue.
“I met Gwen when I was a kid. Grade school maybe. Both of us were from well-to-do families, so it’s no surprise that we started dating in high school. Years went by and I was so in love. At least I thought I was. I was certain she would be the woman I spent the rest of my life with,” I chuckle humorlessly. “I was so fucking naive. She deflowered me.” I throw her a playful wink.
She smiles again and it hits me like an arrow from a crossbow.
“We dated off and on for ten years before I got the nerve to ask her. I always had this nagging voice in the back of my head screaming at me, telling me I would never be enough for her,” I shrug. “I should have listened to the bastard.”
Rising from my position on the sofa next to her, I walk toward my bedroom. The next part of this conversation is going to be the point at which I can no longer make light of the fucked-up situation. “Hold on.”
Picking the framed photograph off the dresser, I kiss the cool glass before placing it face down against my chest. Walking back to the living room, I imagine the image I cradle burning a hole through me like it did all those years ago.
Her face is stricken when she sees me and jumps to her feet. “Aiden, it’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”
“No, I do.”
I don’t know what she sees when she looks at me, but her eyes are glossy again. Knowing I’m the reason, yet again, stings.
“I need to get this out,” I plead, needing to purge the toxins from my system so that I can remember how beautiful she was.
She takes me by the hand and leads me back to the sofa. This time she sits next to me, our thighs touching.
Still holding the frame to my chest, I continue through the quicksand trying to suck me under. “Four months after she said yes, she tells me she’s pregnant.” I watch with avid fascination as her brows shoot to her hairline. She starts to speak but I stop her with a hand on her cheek, needing to continue the momentum. Breaking that physical barrier was a chance, but I couldn’t hold back. “I was over the fucking moon excited. I had the best father and I couldn’t wait to teach my child everything he taught me.” I smile faintly, looking at the wall as I’m tossed back in time.
“The day she was born,” my breath catches and I force myself to swallow the ball of anxiety lodged in my throat. “That was the day I fell in love for the first time.” I chance a glance at her face just in time to see the first tear escape and run down her beautiful face. Swiping it away with my thumb, I feel my own tears, hot against my skin. “She was perfect.”
I smile through the devastation as I think back to the best day of my life and all the promise it held.
“What’s her name?” she asks, and it doesn’t escape my attention that she didn’t say ‘was’.
“Mabel,” my lips tip up, and salty tears fall into the corners of my lips. I know it’s a terribly southern name, but it was perfect for the soon-to-be southern belle.
“Beautiful.”
Celeste cups my cheek like I did hers and looks over my face like it’s the first time she’s ever seen me. Hell, it might just be.
“She was,” I choke on the words and her breath catches. Pulling the frame from my chest, the same place she used to fall asleep, I show her the love of my life.
The tears fall like rain as she takes in the picture of my daughter. All smiles, blonde curls, and full of life.
“Oh, Aiden,” she breathes. “She’s—” her words catch, “everything.”
Her words slice a hot knife through my gut. Burning and cauterizing as it kills.
“She was my everything.”
“Wh-what happened?” She looks at me like she would kill if it took away my pain. It slays the tight grip I had on my sanity.
I want nothing more than to go back in time and change the events that took away my reason to live. I don’t want to relive that night, but this truth needs to be spoken before I can be set free.
“Gwen and I fought that night. She was cheating again and wanted nothing to do with me. It stung, but I could live with her walking away. Baby,” I grip her hand again, focusing all of my energy on her touch. “she’s a vengeful person. She wanted me to fight for the relationship I was so tired of fighting for. She refused to let Mabel stay with me that night. She took my baby with her to go see another man. I tried everything to convince her to leave Mabel. It was useless. I watched them walk out the door that night, in the pouring rain. I can still hear the sound of Mabel crying for her daddy and I just fucking watched them leave!” I shout louder than I intend to, bursting into gut wrenching sobs.
“Like a coward,” I breathe through the agony. “I went to bed thinking we could talk about it in the morning. Instead, I received the one call no parent should ever receive.” I can feel myself crumbling from the inside out.
Celeste pulls my head into her lap as she tries to soothe me. Her fingers weave through my hair, as she silently gives me her strength.
“Gwen’s new man wanted nothing to do with our daughter. A fact that steamrolled her. She already resented motherhood and the burdens that came with it. She left him in hysterics, but she never made it home with our little girl.” He takes a moment to gather himself. “She wrapped her Mercedes AMG around a tree going ninety miles per hour.”
Angry, rage filled sobs wreck me as memories surface. Celeste situates herself on the couch behind me, her body running the length of mine. Her small arms wrap around me, and she whispers condolences in my ear. She doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay. She doesn’t bother to say it will pass, because she knows.
She is exactly what I need.
“How old was she?” She asks, her shaky breath tickling my neck.
“She had just celebrated her first birthday,” The words leave me in a rush as the vice tightens around my lungs, constricting my source of life.
“I’m so sorry that happened to her.” Her lips brush my neck and the sensation travels through my extremities, leaving a fire in their wake.
The feel of her delicate fingers as they rub back and forth over my skin, drives home how goddamn stupid I’ve been. All of my sins blanket me, making me realize the kind of time I’ve wasted. If regret were tangible, I’d trade my soul if it meant I’d never hurt her again.
“There is more I need to tell you. The night I read the toxicology report, I lost it. I was going to kill her,” I admit, afraid for her to see the beast inside me. The man I never again want to be. “I was never a violent man, Celeste, but her grandfather is the only reason she isn’t six feet under and I’m not serving a life sentence. I was blinded by rage and pain. It was Charles that made me see that I needed to live my life as an honorable man. To be a man Mabel would have been proud of.”
She is the reason I told my father I couldn’t run the company. She’s the reason I became DEA. My sole mission since her death has been getting drugs off the street and prevent other little girls from being dealt the same fate.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Celeste
“That doesn’t make you a monster,” I murmur against his skin. The back of his shirt is soaked with physical evidence of my sorrow. “It makes you human.”
He’s silent for a few beats. There is a question nagging at me. One that won’t be easy for either of us.
“Why didn’t Gwen get arrested?” I ask in a calm tone.
“She was. Money can buy a lot in this world, and freedom isn’t the exception. She is
a master at her craft, and she had the best attorneys. They sent her to rehab, and she paid a ton of fines.”
By the end of his explanation, he’s grinding his teeth.
There was no justice for that sweet little girl who had her daddy’s eyes.
He sucks in a deep breath, his cries having slowed. He turns to face me, chest to chest as his calloused hands hold my face and his exhales tickle my skin. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Staring into his eyes, tainted by devastation, the moment threatens to consume me. Each word that spills from his lips is like a crack in the glass; the sentences spread like veins. One more syllable and I might shatter.
The turmoil in his vacant stare takes me to my metaphorical knees.
My lips fall into his and I taste him tentatively. I want to take away his pain. I want to breathe life into him.
The kiss is gentle. His mouth dances seductively with mine, building a fire guaranteed to burn slowly.
His tongue teases the seam of my lips, and I open, allowing him to share his pain. There is no rush, no frenzy. Every action taken is with purpose. Desire builds in my core.
Aiden pulls back and places his forehead on mine. Our breathing is labored as we draw out the intensity of the moment. Neither of us are in a rush to get to the finish line.
“I want more with you,” he admits. Fear tried to force her way into my heart, but I’ve padlocked the gate.
“What if I can’t give you want you need?” I ask breathless, fearing his words.
“Babe, you’re more than I could handle in ten lifetimes.” He brushes his soft lips against mine and I can feel them curve into a seductive smile.
“I can try,” I confess, afraid to pummel down this cobblestone path again.
“That’s all I’m asking,” he takes my mouth again and his tongue is demanding.
I lose myself in him, desperately wanting to live in this bliss forever. To just stay in this naïve little bubble.
His hands begin to roam, exploring the topography of my body. He leans into me, his large body covering my smaller one as I fall back. I open my thighs and he wastes no time getting situated between them.