He groans and presses me up against the side of the warm vehicle. “I won’t see you for another ten days.”
“It’ll fly by.”
“You’re right, it will fly by, time is flying by and that jar is getting fuller and fuller every day. I’m scared I was wrong, that when you reach the end, you’ll decide to leave me anyway.”
“Have hope. I’m sure everything will fall into place.”
He releases me and we head home silently.
We shower.
We fuck.
We shower again and then we fuck again and, finally, he takes me to the airport.
We stand by the gate with tears in our eyes and heavy hearts in our chests.
After we hug and kiss, I board my flight, clicking my fingers as I go, and cry some more because what if he’s right? What if these are our last few weeks together?
Because he’s right, we can’t keep doing the long-distance thing, not if we want to be serious. That’s not the kind of relationship I want.
I enter my apartment, ripping the notes from the notepad and folding them, there are so many this time but then there always are.
I drop each one into the vase, giving it a gentle shake so every available space is full, and when I’m done, tears fill my eyes because there’s only space for one more. Two at most, but the jar is pretty full up.
The tears fall as I grip the table and look at it, still undecided. I know I forgive him. I know our past doesn’t hurt me anymore, well, not as much. But can I leave everything I’ve built these past six months to return to him?
I don’t like change, I never have.
I rock the chair back and forth, listening to the wooden legs hit the floor. Twelve times. Twenty-four times. I don’t stop until my phone snaps me out of it when it vibrates, I’ve already sent Ezra a text to let him know I’m safe home.
Ezra: Just ten more days. I’ll be counting.
Rose: The jar is full, Ezra. It has room for one more note on the top.
Ezra: Whatever you decide I will always love you and I will never stop hoping that you’ll return to me one day. You have ruined me for all other women. I love you, Rose Sinclair.
I don’t reply. I need time to think. But then… I think of this pain in my chest that I feel every time he leaves and every time I leave him.
I hate this. I wish I never left LA to begin with. Then I notice that my fingers aren’t clicking and I’m not pacing and I’m not thinking in sixes because I’m so entirely consumed by him. Because loving him rids me of my usually crippling anxieties.
Figuring that, the answer becomes so clear to me as I write my final note:
Loving him makes me feel safe.
And I’ve never felt safe before him.
It sits on the top of the pile, slightly higher than the rim of the vase. I smile at it.
He was right. Filling it would tell me exactly what to do.
There’s only one thing to do.
I write out my sad resignation to Mr. Watanabe and we have a teary goodbye.
My home isn’t in Seattle or Los Angeles. My home is Ezra Conti.
* * *
Ten days later, when he knocks on my apartment door, I greet him with a smile and an empty suitcase in hand.
He eyes it curiously. “You’re showing me this because?”
“You’re going to help me pack.”
Gray eyes flare with hope, like light peeking through stormy clouds. “Pack?”
I nod, smiling tearfully. “I’m coming home.”
A choked noise escapes him as he scoops me up, burying his face in my neck. I drop the suitcase and return his embrace. He really does give the best hugs.
Then he kisses me, my lips, my cheeks, my nose, my brows, making me giggle, and I walk him back towards my bedroom where I make love to his body in Seattle for the last time.
Epilogue
He never gave up on me. I hope he never will.
It’s Christmas Day at the Contis’, and this year, though we unfortunately don’t have Maria because she’s with her mom, it is still a wonderful day with Erika, Steve, Izabella, and Mario. All of whom accepted me back into their fold with little to no effort. It’s as it was before, if not better now because it’s my hair Ezra is playing with as he sits beside me around a Monopoly board.
The room is perfectly decorated, festive, modern, creams and golds. So pretty.
We are currently in the process of opening gifts. Maria and I took the liberty of chopping up all her father’s ugly ties and placing them into a box for his first gift but she’s not here so he won’t be getting that until tomorrow. I purchased him some nicer ties, one has my name on it in huge bold letters. Another has a huge golden rose in the middle with the stem leading to the point.
With Ezra it’s hard buying him anything new because, anything he wants, he already has. So, I go for funny gifts, sexy gifts, trinket gifts. Nothing expensive but things I’ve seen that have reminded me of him.
He opens mine with laughter and love in his eyes and then hands me a huge box.
I tear through the wrapping paper and fall back laughing.
I reveal the MacBook to him and the group with an excited grin on my face. “You got me a MacBook?”
“You once told me that you might forgive me for a MacBook, so I got you a MacBook to set things in stone.”
I laugh harder, I can’t help it, it’s not funny to them because they weren’t there, but it’s hilarious to me. And sweet because that was a long time ago and he never forgot. “You have way more money than sense.”
“I’ll have it if you don’t want it,” Erika jests, reaching for the box.
I grab it back and hug it. “Mine.”
We finish unwrapping and eat a delicious dinner cooked by Mario and me. I hadn’t learned until recently that he’s an excellent chef and I have learned so much.
Then comes the after-dinner ornament hanging, a yearly tradition where every family member present hangs an ornament on the tree with their name on it, and they make a wish for the coming year. It’s so sweet. Last year I watched them, and it made me feel such loss because of the upbringing I never had.
This year I watch them and smile because one day maybe my kids will be hanging an ornament with theirs. It makes me feel all kinds of emotional.
They each go up, one by one, until there’s nobody left but me and that’s when Izabella hands me a white box. My breath catches. I open it and gently pinch the golden ring at the top of the dark red ornament. My name is scrawled across the side in beautiful flowing font.
I’m going to cry.
“You guys,” I mutter, my tone disbelieving. “Is this really mine?”
“No, it’s my new dog’s, we named her Rose,” Erika answers, grinning.
I laugh quietly and shakily take it to the tree, placing the empty box on the floor by my feet as I feel around the ring for the thread, I’ll need to hang it from the branches.
“Damn, I need some twine or something,” I say, looking at Izabella who then looks at Ezra.
Nobody says anything as he takes my precious ornament and fiddles with the top.
Giddy, and feeling part of a family for the first time in my life, I snatch it back from him, holding the string between my fingers and the ornament on my palm. I find a space and I’m about to hook it on when something round, gold, and shiny, with a gold rose in the center of a band full of tiny diamonds, catches my eyes. And my breath.
I can’t breathe.
I freeze. Unable to move.
That wasn’t there before.
I remove it from the thread, hook my ornament on the tree, wish that I’ll have another year of happiness and good health for the family I’ve acquired, then I turn.
I look for him and my eyes drop down to where he’s waiting on one knee. Charming smile on his face. Vulnerable gaze in his gray eyes. Love oozing from him in waves.
“Absolutely,” I say, nodding my head like a crazy person.
“I haven’t as
ked you yet,” he jokes, taking my hand and the ring.
He slides it onto my finger as I try not to cry. It fits perfectly and it is so beautiful and unique to me. I love it.
“Ask her then,” Erika urges, and when I look at her, she’s blotting tissue under her eyes. Izabella smacks her arm, she too is blotting tears away.
“So… I have a theory,” he tells me, looking confident. “I’ve been married already—”
There’s a collective groan from everyone but me. I press my lips together, so I don’t laugh as he shoots them a look.
“But I figured, we’ve got that on our side. Because it’s my second wedding, and two is a multiple of six—”
“So is three,” I point out and he blanches adorably.
“Whatever… my point is, I love you, Rose Sinclair, soon to be Rose Conti, and I have never been so sure about anybody in my entire life. There’s not a single moment that I wonder if this is the right thing because—”
“It’s always felt right.”
“Exactly,” he whispers. “Marry me. Stay mine forever. I can’t promise that I’ll never upset you. But I can promise that I’ll always try to never disappoint you.”
Grinning, I admire the ring for a moment longer and throw my arms around his neck. He falls back a step. “Yes, six million percent yes.” I lean back, tears in my eyes, then I kiss him, firmly but briefly because his family are watching. “Best Christmas ever.”
“Agreed.”
“I wish Maria had been here to see this.”
“Over here!” comes her crackly voice from Steven’s phone screen. He’s holding it up so Maria could see.
I laugh and take it from him. “Merry Christmas, Maria.”
“I’m so glad it’s you, my best friend Janie’s stepmom is a massive douche, but I still think you can be worked around about the horse thing.”
Erika takes the phone before Ezra can admonish her for the use of the word douche. I’m just happy that everyone was here. Everyone but Laurie, but she has her own family now.
But then… Mario shows me his phone and I see Laurie’s face, she’s crying but the phone has been muted.
“She kept having her outbursts,” he explains with a sheepish smile, “I had to mute her.”
Laughing, I unmute it and they cover their ears as we scream together.
“LET ME SEE IT!” she demands and I hold it up to the camera. “Oh my God, that’s divine. I think I prefer it to mine.”
“Hey,” Kyle whines, but he’s used to her humor by now I just know it has rolled right off him.
“ROSE RINGS IN YOUR BUTTHOLE, MR. CUNTYFLAPS!”
“I sure hope not,” both Ezra and Mario chorus making the rest of us howl with laughter.
I say my goodbyes to my best friend and hold the arm that Ezra has banded around my middle. He rests his chin on my shoulder and kisses my temple.
“I adore you,” I whisper, closing my eyes as we share a private moment in this busy room.
“I adore you too.”
Then I’m ripped away, only to be hugged by Izabella who whispers, “Welcome to the family, Rose."
Then she swiftly pulls away, likely so we both don’t sob.
I have a family. For the first time in my entire life, I have a family.
“Who wants dessert?” Izabella asks, and the crowd roars.
My stomach grumbles as it always does at the mention of treats and I follow them into the kitchen where a selection of cakes and other snacks wait on platters on the counter.
I grab a bowl but really there’s only one thing I want right now.
Feeling comfortable in a home that isn’t mine and a little buzzed from the two glasses of wine I had with my dinner, I search through cupboards until I find what I’m looking for. A small tub of crunchy peanut butter.
I stuff a spoonful into a profiterole and layer it with chocolate and a piece of banana. Then I bite into it and moan. “God, that is so good. I just love peanut butter and bananas at the moment.”
Izabella drops the empty dish in her hands, it bounces on the floor but doesn’t crack. Mario stares at me. Erika lets out a happy squeal and Ezra chokes on the food in his mouth.
Steven pats him on the back but I’m too weirded out to be concerned about him dying right now.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?” Nobody answers. “Is there something on my face?”
“No,” Ezra, who is fine now, kisses my cheek and wipes away a droplet of chocolate from the corner of my lips. Then he shoots the others a look and they busy themselves with what they were doing before their weird halt. “Nothing.”
Izabella and Erika start whispering amongst themselves, occasionally glancing my way.
Meanwhile I scoop more peanut butter into a bowl and mush it with banana before eating it from a spoon. So good.
I’ve been doing this a lot lately. It’s not something I have typically enjoyed before but now it’s the best thing in the world.
When I reach for my remaining wine in the other room, Izabella swoops in and takes it from me. “That wine is probably stale now. You don’t want stale wine.”
“I only poured it like twenty minutes ago.”
“I agree,” Erika puts in, smiling like a crazy woman. “It’s probably stale.”
“What are you, the wine police?” I eat more banana and peanut butter and then point at them with my spoon. “Why do you keep looking at each other like that?”
“Like what?” Izabella asks but ducks out of the room without waiting for my answer.
“Why are they acting so weird?” I whisper at Ezra who is looking at his sister with a similar excited expression.
“I’m going to the store,” Erika announces, standing suddenly.
“It’s Christmas, good luck finding a place.” Steven says this but jumps to his feet when she widens her eyes at him. “Guess I’m coming with you.”
“Maybe they’ve had stale wine,” I mutter, watching them go, whispering to themselves along the way.
Meanwhile Mario just beams at me, smiling broader than is normal.
I decide to just roll with it, looking at my new ring while eating my peanut butter and sipping a lemon tea that Izabella just made for me. It goes down nicer than the wine.
We chat, getting back to normal for a while when Erika finally returns after being gone nearly an hour.
She’s empty-handed so now I’m super confused as to why she needed to find a store. Maybe she didn’t find one.
“We should talk,” Ezra whispers, removing my peanut butter treat from my hands.
I follow him into the hall and accept his soothing kiss. “Changed your mind already?”
“Not a chance.”
“What’s wrong? You look on edge.”
He chuckles nervously and rubs my arms with his hands. “When was your last period?”
What? Now I’m really confused. “I don’t get periods, you know this. The depo shot stops them.”
“Okay,” he mutters and nods for a while, just bobbing his head like a doggy on a dashboard. “When was your last depo shot?”
“Well… it would have been three mo—” I slap a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God… I FORGOT! I never forget.” He peels my hand away from my lips. “It would have been before I left for Seattle. I didn’t even think about it.” My hand goes to my stomach. “Could I be pregnant? But I was told it can take years to conceive after getting the shot.”
He steers me towards the bathroom. “Want to find out?”
“How?”
“Erika got a pregnancy test.”
I blink rapidly, still walking towards the bathroom. “How did she…? What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of cruel prank?”
He turns me back to face him. “Okay, definitely not a prank. Definitely the best day of my life about to become even better if you’re carrying my baby. The reason everybody has been acting so weird is because in my family, every woman who has conceived a child and either been a Conti or married t
o a Conti, always craves peanut butter. Always.”
“Seriously?”
He nods, eyes twinkling with humor. “Elizabeth did. Erika did with her two unfortunate pregnancies.” Both ended in miscarriage before Ezra and I got together. So sad. We don’t talk about it. “My mom did. My nonna did. My bisnonna did. It didn’t exist before her but every single aunt I’ve ever had all claimed to crave peanut butter.”
“Dude, that’s like really weird. I’m creeped out.”
He chuckles knowingly. “Yep.”
“So… there’s a test in there waiting for me?”
“There is.”
“And if I am?”
“Then you are.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then one day we try.”
“This is too much for one day,” I whimper, opening the bathroom door and staring at the three boxes on the vanity.
He unwraps them and takes out the sticks. Then, without shame, one by one I pee on them under a staggered stream, making him turn around first.
I wipe them down, clip the lids back on and wash my hands.
He guides me out of the bathroom, telling me to let them cook a little first.
I’m anxious, I start clicking, something I rarely do these days. He kisses my temple and we all just sit in silence as though waiting for somebody to die, not for somebody to be actualized.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Izabella cries, looking at her watch for the thousandth time.
“You go,” I say, still clicking. Ezra holds my hands in his and kisses me on the lips. “I daren’t look.”
Erika and Izabella shove each other out of the way in a race to find out my results. I laugh, loving how excited they are, and then inhale sharply when they fall silent suddenly.
Ezra and I share a look. He kisses me again, as tense as I am.
Izabella starts sobbing. Erika starts screaming.
“That can only mean one thing,” Steven mumbles, smiling at us, not a hint of envy in his eyes. He stands and so do we. “Congratulations, guys.” He hugs us both and Mario follows. Then the women. Then finally, my fiancé who picks me up, spins me around, and kisses my face over and over again, in sixes.
Becoming His Mistress Page 38