And I remember now. I remember everything that we have. What it feels like to have Charlotte, why I knew she was my world all of those years ago. There are no words to describe the connection we have. Connection is too weak a word. This is other-worldly, what we have transcends galaxies and time.
Char starts to move and I groan into her mouth, fusing our lips together as she rides me slowly. With every pulse of her hips she gives a pained moan, like I’m killing and curing her.
“Tucker, Tucker …” She sobs my name as I feel her body tense and then shudder.
Her pussy grips me as she unravels on top of me. “Oh god, yesss …”
Char’s orgasm goes on and on, rocking both of us until with just a small thrust of my hips, I’m coming again. This release is more intense, gripping me by the balls and making my body lose control. I fall back onto the hardwood, the arms I was using to hold myself up collapsing and taking Char with me.
I can’t speak after the last quake leaves me. Our breathing has paired, each lungful of air in and out in sync. And Char’s tears, wetting the hair on my chest.
“I love you,” she whispers.
I search my heart for the words, and surprisingly, they come. “I love you, too.”
The wall I had carefully constructed to keep her out is crumbling. It feels better, to let her in.
But, it’s also scary as hell.
CHAPTER 18
CHARLOTTE
Tucker slept in my bed that night. The first night we’d been together since he came home. He slept in our bed.
He carried me up the stairs and pulled the sheets aside, and then held me like the world was ending. And the cracks in my heart began to fill, to fuse together with the love and happiness he was giving me.
The past two weeks haven’t been us back to normal. They’ve been better. Because we recognize each other’s flaws, we talk about them and our downfalls in counseling. I know when he needs to talk about something, and when he’d rather not discuss it. He tries to be more positive with me, but I also try to let him sit in his moods if he needs it. We are finally becoming partners, a real husband and wife who deal with things together.
He met Jackie finally, to her delight. She peppered him with so many questions about me as a child that it made him comfortable. I hadn’t seen him smile that much since he’d been home. And I thanked God for sending me a friend who was so amazing.
Our three year wedding anniversary rolled around, and Tucker brought home a cheesecake that he had actually gone to local bakery himself and pick up. We ate our slices of Oreo goodness in our underwear, in bed, after a marathon of sex. We’d even broken out the new champagne glasses I’d bought, the bubbles for me and sparkling grape juice for him.
And one of the best, sexy parts of my husband being home? Sexy texting during work hours.
Tucker: Do you know how fucking hot it is to see you in those lacy little things you like to wear?
I smile at his message. He’s really gotten the hang of this whole sexting thing since we got him a cellphone again.
Charlotte: What, you don’t miss the ratty old sweats from Camp Marsh?
My phone pings with his response.
Tucker: I like the lacy things. But I do miss plunging into you in the middle of the quiet, desolate campgrounds. We may have to have a repeat one of these days. ;)
Oh God, he hit my with a wink face! I had to admit though, I missed our Camp Marsh days sometimes too. It was so much simpler then, as complicated as the situation was. We were alone. No pressure from society or jobs or people. We were free to love each other and do exactly what we wanted to.
I sneak to the bathroom down the hall and into a stall. I open my camera app and snap a quick picture as I lift up my blouse. He’s going to love the grey demi bra I have on today. Lace all the way through. You can make out my nipples in the picture.
I don’t even have to wait two seconds for his response.
Tucker: Fuck, baby. Are you trying to kill me? I’m up here on a roof and my cock is so hard, it might weigh me down to the ground.
Giggling, I type back. If anyone else is in this bathroom, they’re going to think I’m insane.
Charlotte: And who says you’re that big? Cocky are we?
Tucker messages me back.
Tucker: You’re going to pay for that one tonight.
I hope I do.
FOUR DAYS later and we’re sitting at the table, enjoying a Sunday morning breakfast of spinach omelets that I whipped up. I’m scrolling through my Facebook timeline and Tucker has the local paper’s sports section spread across the table.
We really are like a normal couple now. Ignoring each other even though we’re sharing a meal.
I look up to see Tucker staring at my wrist. The one with the tattoo of our baby’s birthday.
When he feels my gaze on his face, he looks up. “I want to take you somewhere today.”
I can’t hide my shock well. He’s barely wanted to leave the house despite the fact that we’re really good in our marriage right now. He only goes to work, counseling, and NA meetings. I’ve been wanting to go on a real live date so badly, but I didn’t want to push him.
“I would love to go anywhere with you. Plus, it’s a beautiful day.”
Early May in Lancaster is always gorgeous. The flowers are in bloom the sun is shining. I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend a Sunday than with my husband doing something he’s planned for me.
“Good. Go get ready. And put on some walking shoes, you’re going to need them.”
CHAPTER 19
TUCKER
“Where are we going?” Char laughs as she swings our arms, my hand holding hers.
It’s a beautiful spring day, warm enough that we don’t even need coats or sweaters. I steer us down the street away from our condo, and how amazing is it that I’m referring to it as the place we live now. Since the night I made love to Char on the hardwood, the iciness I’ve held onto since I’ve gotten home has started to melt.
Therapy has helped considerably, and given us an outlet to talk to each other correctly. And my sponsor, Jim, has been a big help.
But work is the real savior. I like construction, like completing something with my hands and seeing the joy it brings to the people living there or working there. I like it so much that Jane’s friend brought me onto his crew full time. That conversation had been fun.
Jane leans on her desk in front of me. “So, I hear you’ve done a good job.”
I don’t know where she’s going with this. “I hope I have. Your friend, he’s a good guy. Great crew, and they really know what they’re doing. I’ve learned a lot.”
“Well, good. Because he’d like to bring you on full time.”
I almost tell her to stop fucking with me, but then I realize, Jane doesn’t joke.
“Wait, really?”
“Really, Mary Poppins! He wants you to sign on full time, says you’re a hard worker and you know your way around a job sight. So I have your paperwork here if you think it’s a good fit.”
“Absolutely.” I don’t even have to think before signing my name on the dotted line and consenting to another drug test.
Somewhere in the back of the room, Jane snorts and shakes her head.
Char had been thrilled when I came home and told her about. So thrilled that I got a congratulatory blow job that almost gave me a heart attack.
I finally felt like I was finding my way back to a normal life. Adapting to the rush around me, fitting into society after putting my life on hold for three years.
And today was special. I don’t think Char realized what day it was, but I’d been watching the news the other day, and they’d done a highlight on it. I’d been difficult to put it mildly, and I wanted to do something special for my wife. For the woman who had stuck by me for all of these years.
“I’m not going to tell you yet!”
We wander into downtown Lancaster, and for a second I have to brace myself for the influx
of people surrounding us. There is so much chatter and noise and colors here. It can be overwhelming at times.
“Oh my god, Tucker! I forgot about the Amish festival!”
Char squeals and gives me a side hug, marveling at all of the tents set up. They feature baked goods, arts, wooden rocking chairs. The famous sourdough pretzel factory has a tent, as well as some of the local restaurants. Kids are getting their faces painted, teenagers are flirting with each other by the sunglass booth.
“I thought it might be fun. And I remember you coming last year with Jackie.”
It was one of the only weekends she didn’t come visit me. But she’d been there the next week, regaling me with stories of the delicious Amish food she’d eaten.
“Oh yeah! We have to go get donuts. Right now!”
She pulls me through the crowd, her slim hand and arm like a leash that I will never let go. I can’t help but tilt my head up and laugh at her enthusiasm.
Fifteen minutes later and we have our apple fritters in hand.
“You didn’t tell me how fucking good this was.” I lick my fingers as I get in line to order another.
“Yes I did! I talked about these for weeks, I swear!”
I lean down and lick a speck of sugar off her upper lip, and she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in for more. Someone behind us has to clear their throat for us to break apart.
We just smile at each like idiots. And get more donuts.
I stop her at a stand on the outskirts of the festival. It’s overflowing with fresh-picked flowers, and I make Char wait outside while I disappear into the tent and grab the biggest bouquet of daisies I can find.
Her face lights up when she sees me, and she stands from the bench I made her wait on.
“Are those for me?!” Her joy is tangible.
“Maybe, but you’ll have to follow me to find out.” I reach my hand out for hers, which she takes, and lead her out of the festival.
I walk us away from downtown and out where the houses become further and further apart. I hang a right, and soon we’re at the edge of Lancaster County Central Park.
“We’re going for a walk in the park?” She’s still guessing.
“You up for a little bit more of a walk?”
There is somewhere I want to take her. Char nods and we keep going, hand in hand, just admiring this beautiful day.
The park is alive with sounds and fragrances. I can’t imagine returning here with anyone but her.
Further into the park, and I finally spot it.
“Oh, Tucker …” Char gasps quietly and I know I’ve done good.
We walk onto the worn wood planks of the Kurtz Mill Covered Bridge and I stop her once we’re just inside the opening.
“It looks just like the one in Bridges of Madison County.” Char marvels at the construction of the red covered bridge.
“I used to sleep in here sometimes.” I look at her, assessing her reaction.
“Back when you were using?”
“Yeah … it was one of the only free, covered places I could ever think of.”
I walk to her, pressing her against the wall of the bridge and bringing one hand up to her cheek. My other is still occupied with her daisies.
“I want to rewrite all of the bad memories with you. I want to take away all of the pain we’ve had. Not forget it, but replace them with happiness and new traditions. It’s why I wanted to bring you here. It’s always why I got you these.”
I hold up the flowers to her. “Happy Mother’s Day, Char.”
Tears spring to the corners of her eyes. “I forgot … I didn’t realize today was …”
I sink down so that our eyes are on the same level. “I know how hard it must have been for you, with the miscarriage. I’m here now, and we can mourn him and remember him together. We can think of him, a perfect little boy, playing up in Heaven. And I want to mark this day every year. Remember him. And I also want to remind you that one day, you’re going to be an amazing mother to our children. You will. I love you, baby.”
She starts to weep and I hold her against my chest while she clutches her daisies and cries for the little boy we lost. I mean it, someday, she is going to be the most perfect mom.
“Thank you. Thank you, Tuck. It’s been so hard. For so long, I blamed myself. And I still do. But this … just, thank you.”
I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her lips.
“I also brought you out here because I thought maybe, you’d like to see what it’s like to get lucky in a covered bridge. What do you think?”
I smirk against her mouth and hope she takes the bait to break the emotional moment. I sense she needs me too.
Char doesn’t say anything. Just pulls my mouth to hers and deepens that soft kiss.
CHAPTER 20
CHARLOTTE
Perfect was too small of a word to describe this day.
“What do you want for dinner?” I say to Tucker as we walk back to our condo.
We’re still giddy and hyped up from fooling around in the bridge. I swear Tucker would have bent me over right there if it wasn’t for the family who came through as he had his hand up my shirt.
“Can’t we just have more donuts?”
It’s not a bad idea. I can still taste the apple fritter from both of our mouths on my tongue.
“Aren’t you going to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day?”
That perfect day I just mentioned? Well now there is a stain, a big black one, that we’ll never be able to wipe off.
My mother leans against her silver BMW that is parked on the street in front of our stoop. I feel Tucker’s entire body stiffen at her presence, and just like that, I can feel all his hackles going back up.
We’re rooted to the street a couple of feet away from her. Maybe if we can just scoot around her, get inside —
“What, you’re not going to give me a kiss?”
The thought turns my stomach, and I think I see Tucker physically blanch. I have to get him away from this poisonous woman.
“I’m not sure what you’re doing here, but get back in your car and leave. We don’t want you anywhere near here.” I try to keep my voice steady and firm. I hope none of the anxiety or fear comes through.
The devil laughs in my face. “Oh, Charlotte. You’re such a disappointment. Shacking up with this piece of trash; he’s a convict! This is not how I raised you.”
Tucker bristles and I think he might actually punch her. “Get the fuck out of here, you bitch.”
His voice is deadly.
“Hmm, I think I feel threatened. Maybe I should call the police, tell them a convicted felon is threatening a helpless woman.”
She sneers and I think I see the pits of hell open up inside of her pupils.
I turn to Tucker and touch his arm, trying to get us in our own little bubble. “Please, babe, go in the house. I’ll deal with this. Please.”
He tears his eyes from my mother, and I plead with him in my expression.
“Tucker, please …”
He finally moves, walking to our front door, jamming the key in, and then slamming it behind him. I let out the breath I’ve been holding, relieved he didn’t actually punch my mother in the face. But the tension returns only seconds later, when I realize evil is still standing in front of me.
“Why are you here? You haven’t bothered to care for me in years, so what is the point now? You need to poke at him, threaten him? You’re pathetic.”
She’s still wearing that heinous smirk and I’ve never wanted to a plunge a knife into someone so badly. My thoughts are violent and bloody.
“Oh, Charlotte Ann, stop being so dramatic. I merely wanted to see what it looks like to live with a convict. Knowing your life will never be the same again. That society will never fully accept you. That any horrible spawn you have with that man will be mocked and tormented by those who find out their father is the scum of this country. You can still leave, you know. Have a normal life, make a good, honest
go of things.”
I can feel my blood boiling. “A good, honest go of things? Is that what you did, mother? All I ever saw you do was complain and bitch about how horrible your life was. How average your husband and child were. All I saw was you living through me, trying to complete dreams that you never could by forcing me to go after them. Either that or poison every person around you by being the town gossip. You couldn’t shut your mouth, not when it came to your opinions and not when it came to damaging other people’s friendships and relationships.”
I’m too angry to cry, the only thing I can feel is the heated rage swarming my cheeks and my tear ducts. My mother takes a step back, bumping into the shiny silver side of her BMW. It’s like I slapped her. I realize now that I’ve never fully articulated my feelings to her about how much I really despise her. So I let loose.
“You’re the one person on this earth who is supposed to love me unconditionally. And yet, whenever I needed you for just a kind word or a hug, you were never there. Instead of telling me how special and talented I was, like any parent should, you beat me down. You let me know that I was never good enough. Worthless. And it won’t even matter that I’m telling you all of this now, because you’ll never learn. You’ll never see. You think that you were the best mother on earth. No kind of heartfelt sentiment or confession will drive you from that idea you’ve planted in your mind.”
She throws her hands up. “Because I was a good mother! A great mother! I provided for you, I clothed and fed you. I put you in all of the best activities, took you to all the best plays and shows. I got you into the best college and got a ring on your finger.”
I sigh. She will never, ever see that not only did she not do any of those things herself. But that it doesn’t matter. Being a mother doesn’t mean giving your child the best things money can buy. It means loving them unconditionally, and supporting them even when you think they might fail.
The Complete Captive Heart Duet Page 23