Heartfelt Lies

Home > Other > Heartfelt Lies > Page 13
Heartfelt Lies Page 13

by Alexandra Christopher


  "You're so beautiful, Ella. Even here," I say, spreading the outer lips of her pussy with my thumbs. Do you always keep yourself bare?"

  She clears her throat before responding. "Yeah, it's a personal thing. I don’t do it for anyone other than myself. I started shaving when I was old enough to realize I could. I just feel cleaner this way." She meets my eyes hesitantly.

  "No complaints from me, sweetheart. You've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen. These smooth lips just show me how wet you are for me."

  I run my nose along her slit, breathing her in. Fuck she smells good. I place my hands under her hips and bring her up to my mouth. I lick her from ass to clit, repeating the process twice more before dipping inside. I fuck her with my tongue until she's moaning loudly and gripping my hair with harsh hands as she grinds her pussy against my face.

  I suck her clit into my mouth and push two fingers inside, rubbing her sweet spot. Her moans get louder, her head thrashing side to side. She squeezes my head between her knees as she shouts my name into the open sky.

  I continue to softly lap her juices and bring her down slowly. When her knees release my head and she relaxes back against the bed, I sit up, wiping my mouth and chin with the back of my hand. Ella meets my eyes with a pleased look on her face. I lie down beside her and pull her on top of me to kiss her softly.

  "That was incredible." A satisfied smile covers her face. Her soft lips place a tender kiss to my neck before her head finds my chest.

  "Can we lay here for a little while before I take you home?"

  Ella nods her head in answer before burrowing further into me. I reach down until my fingers find the forgotten blanket. I pull it up, covering us before turning my face to the sky, and thanking my lucky stars for bringing this girl into my life.

  13

  Ella

  Kohl and I are snuggled together under a blanket in the back of his truck. Our bodies naked as the day we were born. I can't find it within myself to be bothered by that fact though. I'm so relaxed I don't think I could move even if someone did walk up and discover us.

  "It's been a long day," Kohl breathes out into the warm night air.

  "That it has," I agree. "It's been a long but good day, for the most part anyway," I add.

  The arm he has wrapped around my back pulls me closer. "I'm not sure what to even say, Ella. Some of the things said today were so uncalled for."

  "Don't stress about it. I've dealt with much worse things, trust me. Having a few barbs thrown my way by a jealous, ex-girlfriend isn't going to make me lose sleep tonight."

  "The things you say sometimes… they send so many questions running through my mind." Kohl meets my eyes, a frown pinching his brows. "How were things back home, before you moved here with your Gram? Did you have a good life growing up?"

  "Are we really going to do this? You sure you're ready to hear my whole sob story?"

  "I really want to know you. I think that requires some amount of history. Don't you?" Kohl asks.

  "I suppose so. I just don't want you to think of me any differently than you do now."

  He leans over me, cupping my cheek with his large hand. "Sweetheart," he says, looking into my eyes, "there's nothing you could say that would make me view you as anything less than perfect," he reassures me.

  Taking a deep breath, I hold the air in my lungs as long as I can before slowly releasing it. If Kohl wants to know about my past, I guess I'm going to have to trust him when he tells me it will make no difference in the way he feels about me. My paranoia is telling me to keep my mouth shut but my heart is screaming, yes, tell him everything!

  I decide to follow my heart, it seems to be leading me in the right direction these days. Besides, can someone truly fall in love with you if they don't genuinely know who you are? I don't think so.

  I roll over, giving him my back. It would be too hard to face him as I confess my secrets. "Will you hold me like this? I think it'll be easier if I'm not facing you," I whisper the last part, too embarrassed to admit it out loud.

  Without a word, his chest presses against my back as he spoons my body with his large one. Being wrapped in the comfort of his strong arms helps to put my nerves at ease.

  "Just take your time, Ella. No pressure here."

  "You're right to question my childhood," I begin. "My whole life really, up until the point that I moved to Gale. Things weren't always good. More like rarely good, to be honest. Remember that day at the field, when I told you I had just met Gram and moved here to get to know her?"

  "Yeah, I remember."

  "What I didn't tell you is, before I moved here, I had no idea she existed. Not until she showed up a couple days after my mom passed. I lived my whole life thinking it was just my mother and I, believing I was all alone and had no other family to turn to. I lived every day fearing my mother would die, leaving me alone in this world."

  I shake my head, attempting to free myself from that old fog of dread that used to plague my thoughts. Just the idea of being alone has the same old demons clawing their way up my back.

  "I felt like a prisoner to my life from a very young age, held captive by the secrets I was forced to keep. I was stuck in a constant state of fear, worried someone would find out and drag me away from the only family I had. Guilt and worry consumed me constantly, I blamed myself for not being enough to make her happy. Just once I wanted to come home and see a smile on her face. Even if I wasn't the one responsible for putting it there."

  The first tear slips free, slowly winding its way down my cheek before dripping onto Kohl's arm. I know it didn't go unnoticed when he squeezes me just a little tighter and places a lingering kiss to the back of my head. The feel of his warm breath reminds me I'm not alone. Things are different and I have people in my life now. People I care about and people that care about me in return. It gives me the courage and strength I need to continue.

  "I learned from an early age not to speak about what went on behind our closed doors at home. I don't know how I knew to keep it quiet, but I always did. Mom never made threats towards me or warned me to keep my mouth shut if asked. Somehow, I just knew having a mother that I had to care for wasn't normal. I noticed the other kids at school. Their moms showed up for every class party, every play, or music program. I watched as they helped pass out treats or put their costumes on. Deep inside, I knew that's how it was supposed to be. I never had that with my mom, she was never there for me. It was quite the opposite actually, I was always the one taking care of her. I had to be the parent, I never got to just be the child."

  "I'm so sorry, Ella." Kohl squeezes me tightly in his arms. "That breaks my heart. Did she… hurt you?" he questions warily, worry lacing his tone.

  "Not physically, no." I shake my head. "She was… neglectful, distant, and closed off. I can't remember one time that she ever told me she loved me," I whimper. My hurt so deep I barely let the admission pass through my lips. Tears falling in earnest now. "I think she did though. There were times when she would try to get clean and during those times, she would take more of an interest in me. Her eyes would be so clear… I can remember staring into them, searching for answers or some semblance of hope that things were going to change for good. I always found the defeat and heartache she kept hidden there though. Each time I saw it, I knew deep down to my soul there was no saving her."

  "Was she an addict?"

  "She was a lot of things. Alcohol was her poison of choice. Vodka most days, although, she loved pills too and took her share of those. I never knew where she got them, but I would find them hidden under her pillows or buried beneath the towels inside the linen closet in her bathroom. When she would pass out for the night, I would flush what I could find down the toilet. They were always in bottles from the pharmacy, but they never had labels on them. I'm sure she bought them on the street."

  "She probably did," Kohl agrees. "You can buy just about anything you want these days if you're willing to pay the price for it."

  "You're right abo
ut that. She was surrounded by meds at work so I'm sure it wasn't hard to get. She worked day shift at a local nursing home for as long as I can remember, she was a nurse's aide. She liked it there because they didn't do random drug tests. She would leave for work as soon as I got on the bus in the morning and got home right after I got off it in the afternoon. I would usually get a quick dinner of chicken noodle soup or mac-n-cheese before she made her first drink. It was never long before she was slurring her words and stumbling around the house. When I was younger, I wasn't strong enough to get her up and put her to bed when she passed out, so I would go to her bedroom and get a blanket and pillow to cover her up where she laid. As I grew older, she would come home later and later, usually already wasted when she walked through the door. She always passed out soon after. Most nights I could usually rouse her around enough to lean on me until I could get her into bed."

  I pause, taking a moment to remember all the nights I would have to slap her face or place an ice-cold rag on her forehead and neck to wake her up.

  "As the years passed, she became worse and worse, she stopped making any attempts to stay sober. The older I got the more she drank and the more pills she swallowed. When Reed was old enough to drive, if I couldn't get her up on my own, I would call him, and he would come over and help me put her to bed. In the beginning, I was humiliated. The first time I had to call him, she had thrown up all over her pants and shirt. When I couldn't wake her, I called him, and he helped me clean her up and put a gown on her before carrying her to bed. I remember him walking back into the living room and the minute I looked up at him I broke down into sobs."

  I can't stop the small sob that escapes me. Kohl turns me over, pulling my face into his chest as he rocks me from side to side.

  "Shh, sweetheart," he whispers into the top of my head. Offering the only comfort, he can.

  I continue speaking without moving, breathing my heartache into his neck. "I was terrified I would lose him after what he had just witnessed. I didn't though." I shake my head. "He just made his way over, sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms, held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, the mess was gone, and I was tucked into my bed. He never spoke a word of the night before. We never said much about the nights he came to my rescue. He would just come over and help when I called and support me in whatever way he could."

  "Sounds like he's been really good to you."

  "He's the best. He wanted to tell his mom what was happening, he begged me to one night, not long after he started coming over. I refused though and made him promise early on to keep things between us. I was terrified of getting put into foster care like my mom did growing up. I had heard enough of her horror stories to be scarred for life."

  "Your mom didn't have any family?"

  "No, not that I know of. She was an only child, both of her parents died in a crash when she was just a toddler. There was no one else, leaving her all alone. I always felt like if I could just love her enough, she would be happy and realize she wasn't alone anymore. There's no way I could've told anyone about her addiction, they would've taken me away and she would have felt abandoned all over again, just like when she was little."

  "So how did you come to live with your Gram? I just can't believe she would knowingly leave you in that kind of situation."

  "No, she wouldn't have. Mom had left a package with our landlady. She was told to open it upon her passing. Inside was Gram's name and phone number. She never knew I existed. Mom had run away and hidden herself years ago before anyone had ever known she was pregnant. I'll never forget the day I met Gram, when our eyes connected, I knew, I was a part of her. It devastated me all over again to learn that she was actually my dad's mother. And then I learned that he had died before I was ever born. I used to sit and daydream about finding him one day, but I never even stood a chance."

  Kohl stiffens against me. Maybe I've said too much.

  "Should I stop there?" I ask.

  "No, go on. I want to know everything about you that you're willing to share."

  The loss of both parents will forever leave a hole inside me no matter how much time passes. I believe it's a pain I'll never recover from. And although I'm learning to live now and I'm truly happy for the first time in my life, I think the what ifs and what could've beens will always play a role in the back of my mind.

  "Like I said, I was always more parent than child. I started making my own money when I was twelve. Our neighbor next door would let me clean her house once a week. She'd pay me seventy-five dollars each time. I know there's no way what little I did was worth that much, I suspect it was her way of making sure I had food in the house. Every week, I would walk down to the little mom and pop store down the street because Mom would forget to shop for groceries. I always bought things I could open and eat from a package, or simple things I could heat up in the microwave."

  I pause, reflecting back on those memories, the walk to store, the way the owner would always watch me with sympathy filled eyes. The way the walk home felt twice as long with bags weighing down my arms.

  "I used to get so angry, so frustrated with it all. I never understood how a mother could walk around the house like a zombie day after day and never show any love or concern for an innocent child, her own flesh and blood. She stayed sober long enough to work each day. Didn't I mean more to her than a job? Why could she give them that side of her, but she wasn't willing to give it to me? Why? I'll never understand. Why wasn't I enough, Kohl?" I cry.

  "You are enough! Do you hear me, Ella? You. Are. Enough." Kohl grips my chin between his pointer finger and thumb, bringing my face up to his. "Listen to me. Your mom's issues were her own. They had nothing to do with you. She was sick and needed help. Don't you dare take her problems onto your shoulders, that's not your burden to carry."

  "I failed her though. Don't you see? If I would have let Reed tell his parents, she would have gotten the help she needed and would still be alive today. I was so stupid, so selfish. I was too worried about getting taken away when I should've been trying to get her help. She was depressed, Kohl, and I knew that. You couldn't catch sight of her eyes and not know it. I let her down in the worst possible way."

  "You were just a kid, Ella, surviving the only way you could. It was her responsibility to get help and it was her job to raise you and make sure you were taken care of. Even if she would have gotten help, there's no guarantee that she would have remained sober. We have no way of knowing how things would've worked out. And what if you had been taken and placed into a bad home? What then? What would have happened to you? You didn't fail her, Ella. She failed you. Can't you see that, sweetheart?"

  "Not yet," I mumble, "but I'm trying really hard to. I just have all this guilt inside me. Some days there's so much I think I'll explode. I'm trying my hardest to work through it, but it's hard to let go of. I think I'll always carry it with me to some extent."

  "I wish I could take it from you. I would in a heartbeat. I'd do anything for you."

  "This, what you're doing right now, is enough. It's exactly what I need. Someone to just be here, holding onto me when I feel the guilt trying to carry me away. It means more to me than you could possibly know. You, mean more to me."

  "You mean so much to me, too. Just know that no matter what happens, I'll always have your best interest at heart. Promise me, Ella. Promise me that no matter how bad I may screw up, or what mistakes I make, that you'll always give me a chance to make things right."

  His eyes reflect the truth behind his words. He's sincere, I do believe he has good intentions. I just hope he doesn't do something so bad it has me regretting the promise I'm about to make.

  "I promise, Kohl. Just please don't hurt me. I don’t think I'll survive."

  "I'll never intentionally hurt you, Ella. That is something I can promise to you," he says, placing a quick kiss to my lips.

  "That's all I ask."

  "Do you mind if I ask what happened to your mom?" Kohl questions hesit
antly.

  I sigh loudly before pulling away. Turning over onto my back, I stare up at the stars, searching for the courage I need to relive the nightmare that's permanently seared into my memories.

  "It was awful," I confess, allowing my mind to drift. I think back to that fateful night and let each memory pass beyond the barrier of my lips, out into the night sky and into the ears of the amazing man next to me. "I knew something was wrong as soon as I walked through the door, I felt it," I whisper.

  "Mom, are you home?"

  This doesn't feel right, it's too quiet. Something's off.

  A soft glow down the hall draws my attention. It's coming from Mom's room. She's not answering me, but she usually doesn't.

  Why do I feel this pressure? It's right in the middle of my chest. I reach up and press a fist against my heart, trying to rub the ache away. It doesn't work. My heart's racing now instead.

  God, what is that? What's happening to me? What am I feeling? It's… dread. It's consuming me. I can feel it moving through my body, across my arms, up the back of my neck, leaving cold fingers of fear in its path. It circles around to my face, stealing my breath.

  I can hardly breathe in here. The air's so heavy I can't fill my lungs. It's smothering me as I make my way down the hall. My breaths are shallow and rapid as I try to pull in air.

  My head's screaming at me to run, but I can barely move, my legs won't cooperate. I'm weighed down with a heaviness on my shoulders, pushing against me, making it hard to walk. Each foot feels like it’s a hundred pounds, trying to keep me rooted to the floor. It's almost like they're telling me to stay here. Don't go in there, the thought passes through my mind.

 

‹ Prev