Resurrection

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Resurrection Page 6

by Evelyn Montgomery


  Repent? God, no! I’d go to hell ten times over for the sinfully, pleasurable, fucking satisfying thoughts that night has left me with in their wake.

  His right hand raises just as my eyes lower and my whole body quivers when his fingertips trace down my side. My side, which just so happens to be perfectly hidden from the rest of the office. He grips my hip tightly and pulls me gently a step closer. My heart hammers out of my chest and all I can manage to do is to shake my head no.

  No, what? No I don’t regret it? No, I didn’t repent? Even though every single part of me thought I should. No, I don’t like sushi? We were talking about sushi right? But all words leave me as I give into the pull between us once again. The relentless luring way our souls want to know each other more.

  “I’m taking you to an early dinner,” he whispers as his voice falls on me like a seductive mist making my whole body quiver. “And then, after we pick up Olivia and Liam, I am taking you home and we are going to talk, something we should have done 10 damn days ago. And I’m not letting you out of my sight before I agree that we’re done. Any objections?”

  My body shakes again, but this time from the amount of desire his control, his dominance, his unrelenting demands have made me feel. Like it isn’t my choice, he knows what is best, and damnit if I am not 100% OK with that.

  I nod once before his hand raises and he cups my chin, forcing my eyes up to lock with his own. His thumb brushes across my lower lip and a slight whimper escapes me.

  “Rose,” he whispers, as he leans in and my heart stops and I begin thinking, worrying, anxiously wanting him to kiss me in the office for everyone to see. I close my eyes anticipating it, needing it, hell praying for it more than I have ever prayed for a man to kiss me before in my entire life. But I feel his lips at my ear moments later and subconsciously lean in further as he whispers, “I shouldn’t let myself get close to you,” my eyes open hazily as he pulls me in closer, my body now flush against his own, and continues. “I shouldn’t let myself close to Liam, to Olivia.” My heart aches, because I know he is right, I shouldn’t allow it. We shouldn’t allow it. But something tells me his reasons are different than my own and should absolutely send up red flags, which they don’t. God how I wish they sent up warnings, but everything I should tell myself, should feel, stops as the chemistry between us pulls me under with it and I know I would agree to anything, anything at all, as long as I get to feel the way he effortlessly makes me feel. Alive.

  “Grab your purse,” he whispers. “Meet me at the door.” I nod as I turn to leave, but he grabs my hand and yanks me back around. Pulling me a step closer once again, he brings my hand to his face urgently and rests it against his cheek. Closing his eyes, I worry for a moment that he is about to change his mind. But then his eyes open once more and lock with mine and I see a determination there that was only skimming the surface earlier. “I ruin everything I touch, Rose.” He whispers. “But your hands,” he says, as he takes my other palm in his and turns both my hands over in his own. “They give me the strength I need to trust again. And I don’t think I can ever go back to living without it.”

  He looks up at me sadly as the weight of his words hang in the air around us. I want to ask, I want to know what he meant by what he just said. But the moment leaves as someone in the newsroom shouts his name and makes him look away. After they relay a message I didn’t even hear because of the loud rhythm of my heart pounding in my chest, I watch as he nods in understanding, before he looks down at me as my hands slowly slip from his grasp. “Just give me five minutes.”

  I nod and take my leave. But as I walk to the front to gather my things, butterflies dance inside me that take on a whole new kind of flight than the ones that were there before. These ones bring sickness, an urging to take warning and listen to what he is trying to tell me without him even saying a word. I look up at him through his office door and worry I should cancel for all of two seconds before he smiles at me and I feel myself smile back.

  My touch helps him to trust? Who exactly? Himself?

  What he doesn’t know is he helps me too. His touch brings me light when the world is trying to drag me down into its darkness. And that is something I am not ready to give up either. Not yet, at least.

  Chapter 9

  Rose

  I glance at the time while I wait for Justin to finish up a phone call out front of the little sushi restaurant he took me to in downtown. 4:30. I have to pick up the kids by 5:15. 5:30 at the absolute latest. I look to the back of the restaurant and worry we won’t be able to make it in time. Sure, sushi comes relatively quick. And it is only 4:30 in the afternoon. Not like we hit this place during rush. But the uneasiness I felt before leaving the office is starting to build again in the pit of my stomach and I am not sure how much longer I can take it.

  You lied, you know. When you told your husband’s best friend that it meant nothing. That nothing was going on between you and Justin. Why are you hiding it, Rose? Is it because you’re ashamed? You should be! You’re proving you are no better than the average whore.

  I lean my head in my hand and close my eyes, trying to focus on anything that could bring me peace when all I really feel is my own personal hell beginning to surface once again.

  Peace. You want to know what brings you peace? Justin Gatz, even though it will never last. Any relationship you have to hide, especially in the damn beginning, is doomed to failure. Don’t sell yourself on a dream you’ll never be able to hold. Your smart enough to know how this all ends before you even get started.

  I fidget in my seat as I open my eyes and catch his through the glass, they are etched with concern. He no doubt saw the break in my character and it shows in his eyes as they frown at me just like his gorgeous mouth does before he lifts his hand, gestures to give him just one more moment, and then starts to walk back toward the front of the tiny restaurant.

  “I can do this. You do not control me,” I whisper to myself, attempting to gain any kind of ground I can against the voices that torment me, torture me and kill any chance of reaching the light once again from deep inside me.

  The door to the place opens as Justin steps back through and begins to make his way back to our table.

  Control you? Yes I fucking do! You think he’s your savior? He told you already he isn’t. He warned you to stay away, and like a crazy slut who’s only after her next fix, the slightest touch of his skin on your own, you run to him every chance you get! You’re gambling, with your life, your kid’s lives, hoping, praying he’ll take me away. But he won’t. No one has that kind of power.

  I’m about to stand up when Justin reaches our table and places his hand over my own, keeping me still and planted in my seat. “Don’t you dare,” he whispers, as the waitress comes up behind him and he moves to the side and takes his seat so she can place our food in front of us. He waits for her to leave, thanks her kindly for her service, all while I am stuck, frozen, dead to the world around me as fear the voice will start again consumes me.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, frightening me some and making me snap my attention up to meet his stare. He gazes at me over the rim of his water glass as he takes a sip and I swallow hard over the lump in my throat.

  “Talk about what?” I deflect, as I reach into the center of the table, grab one slice of a roll with my chop sticks and place it on my plate.

  “Alright,” he laughs. “Fair enough.” He follows me in doing the same with his own slice of roll and we sit there in silence for a moment. “What was he like? Your husband?”

  My chopsticks drop on the table as I stare up at him like he totally just said the craziest thing in the world. Because hell, he did. “Excuse me?” I ask, a little dumbfounded at why he would want to talk about Michael when he is on a date with me. Or is this a date? Maybe I am totally reading this whole thing wrong.

  “Your husband. Michael right? What was he like?” He opens his mouth and eats his slice of roll whole before looking up at me, completely cal
m and collected, and waiting for a response.

  I wait for a moment, because as shocked as I am, I need a little more time to process the fact that he is totally serious right now and wants to know about my late husband. “Umm, well,” I begin to say, as I sit up straighter in my chair and take a deep breath. “He was my best friend. I knew him since junior high. We started dating in high school, and I guess the rest is kind of history. He joined the Air Force right after senior year. I got pregnant with Liam when I was 22 and we had just started trying for Olivia before he deployed and never…” I trail off as my emotions get the better of me and I look to the table.

  “It doesn’t hurt forever you know?” Justin whispers, catching me completely off guard and making me look up. “The pain. The hurt. The way I see you torture yourself grasping on to any last memory like you’re afraid one day you’ll let it slip away.” My eyes grow wide in shock, disbelief, horror even at how easily he just read me. “Believe me when I say, you won’t. Trust me.”

  I shake my head as a tear falls down my cheek and I quickly glance away. “Why should I trust you? I barely even know you.” I hear myself say, but a stabbing feeling in my gut tells me the truth. He knows me better than I know myself. One of the most unmistakable truths I have ever been forced to face. And the one thing that scares me so damn much.

  “Because,” he says as he leans back in his chair and eyes me sternly as I look back his way. “I lost my wife and daughter six years ago, right before I enlisted. I know a thing or two about loss, Rose. And I’ve had to bury more than just the two of them.”

  Quickly he picks up his chopstick and plops another roll in his mouth. But I can’t move. I sit there stunned. Losing Michael ruined me, I couldn’t imagine if I had lost Liam or Olivia. In fact, I live in fear every damn day that if I am not careful one day Liam could be taken from me. He was only one when he was diagnosed with Child Interstitial Lung Disease. Something that still rears its ugly head when we least expect it and always gets worse this time of year when the weather gets colder, the rain falls harder and I can’t seem to keep the tiny shit hole we live in draft free, mold free, a place my children deserve to call home.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper after too much time has passed. He doesn’t look up, just continues eating before I see him pick up his glass of water and down the rest to keep from responding. “I didn’t…”

  “You’ll want to hurry up and eat,” he says gently, changing the subject and giving me a small smile before gesturing for me to take a bite. “We’re not going to be late picking up Liam and Olivia. Seems to me that I promised Liam I’d play army men with him a few weeks back. I always make good on a promise, Rose.” I go to pick up my chopsticks but my heart skips a beat with the next sentence he says and I freeze once again. “Like when I promised you I’d never let go.”

  Justin

  I bounce Olivia on my knee later that night just as Liam comes barreling out of his mother’s room, fresh from a bath in his pajamas and with a smile on his face that is 100% contagious. I look up and catch his mother’s eyes and for the third time tonight I see a look cross her features that I have never seen before. The first time was when I told her about Charlette and our daughter Emma. The second time, was when I cooked the kid’s dinner before sitting on the floor and playing with Liam for two hours. She looked at me like she just might be finally willing to open up, let me in, if I am game and willing to go for it too. But as much as I want to be, as much as many parts of my body and soul are telling me I am, I am not sure I am there yet. Although, just being here, being with her and the two kids, it makes me feel like I might get there, someway, sometime, as long as I keep trying.

  “Mr. Gatz, will you read me a bedtime story,” Liam asks as he bounces into my lap and barely misses hitting his little sister in my arms.

  I look up to his mother and see if she is OK with that. Rose gives me a slight nod followed by a small smile and my heart warms knowing as much as she is just as cautious of this thing between us as I am, she wants me to stay. She wants me to be a part of this, her, the kids. And right now there isn’t a damn thing I want more.

  “Sure, buddy. Why don’t you go pick one out and I will be right there?” He jumps off my lap quickly and races to his room just as Olivia starts to fuss in my arms.

  “I’ll take her,” Rose says as I rise from the floor. Shaking my head, I hold the little girl in my arms and cradle her before grabbing her bottle I heated up moments before on a nearby table. A small sliver of anxiety rolls through me. A hesitance, given my past and the truth this woman before me doesn’t know. But I force myself to continue even as the memories surface.

  “I got it, Sunshine,” I catch myself saying effortlessly. If I can’t call her Rosie, I have to find something else to say when she takes my breath away. Just like she is doing now, when I can feel her opening up to me like I never expected she would. Like I dreamed she might. And like I needed her to when I about lost my mind earlier at the sight of her and Levi. “If you don’t mind,” I ask, as I place the bottle in Olivia’s mouth and start to walk towards the master bedroom where her crib and rocking chair are. My hands shake as I look down at Olivia and she smiles up at me. But just that small gesture, that trust, that innocence, makes me listen to somewhere deep inside me where my demons don’t lie and I smile back at her and clutch her just a little tighter.

  “No,” Rose whispers as I close the distance between us. “That is fine, I mean, if you really want to?”

  I nod, before doing something I totally didn’t plan on doing. But just this, her, us, takes me to a place I fit into perfectly once before. Back before everything in my life was robbed and quickly fell apart faster than I ever thought imaginable. I lean forward and gently place a kiss against her forehead.

  I keep my lips there, as the gesture stuns us both. She takes in a deep breath and all I feel is her warmth. Her light. Her trust. Before I back away and look her deep in the eyes realizing I just might be in way over my head here. A thought that quickly startles me back to reality.

  “I’m sorry, I uh…” I hear myself softly say. But she shakes her head and smiles.

  “Thank you,” she whispers back catching me off guard. I look at her confused as I try and imagine just what she could be thanking me for. “You’ve given me more than you’ll ever know.” She says again quietly. “More than I can manage to give myself, my kids,” I hear her whisper as her voice breaks and a shiver runs down her spine, she looks to the floor quickly as something insides strangles me and makes it hard to breathe. “I’ve had no one.” Her eyes rise and meet my own. “But you’ve given me someone, and I feel safe with you Justin. When I don’t even feel safe with myself. So, thank you.”

  She walks away and I watch her as Olivia begins to sleep in my arms and continues to drink the bottle. Stunned, it takes me a moment to come back from what she just said, and when I do, I take the couple steps to her room, step into the darkness and quietly close the door.

  Looking down at Olivia in my arms, I think back six years to my own family and know if Charlette could see me right now, I hope she’d be smiling. Because after all I’ve been through, after the hell I felt when her and my daughter were taken from me, stolen, robbed from me before I continued to hit rock bottom and my own hellish prison was all I knew, I finally feel like I can do what I promised myself one day I would. I finally feel like maybe I can move on. And that is the most freeing feeling I have felt in years.

  Chapter 10

  Justin

  Her laughter floats across the back deck making me smile bigger than I already was. Both the kids went to bed nearly an hour ago now, and when I went to leave, not knowing if she wanted me to stay or if I even should, I was more than happy when she offered me a beer and gestured toward two rocking chairs out back. While she poured herself a glass of wine, I started a fire to keep us warm in the pit I found on the deck before she made her way out back, bundled in her coat and smiling, blushing even, as something about the way we were
sneaking off made us feel like two teenagers afraid to get caught and pulled back inside. Her glass of wine now half gone, I roll the empty bottle of what used to be a strong dark liquid in between my hands and grow silent as I stare into the now slightly dying down flames in front of me.

  “Do you want another?” I hear her ask shyly.

  Do I? Yes I do. But fuck, should I? Should we? Those are answers I still don’t have and if I am being honest, I am not sure it’s best we tempt it right now.

  “Maybe I should…” but my response is broken as Olivia’s cry comes over the monitor through the kitchen window. Rose jumps to her feet like any mother would and starts to make her way back inside, handing me the blanket that was wrapped around her knees to keep warm in the process.

  “Hold that thought, I will be right back.” She insists, making me grow slightly nervous because I am not sure if I should stay. Sitting back in the chair, I turn back towards the fire as a slight nervous panic rises inside. Here is my chance. I can walk to the front door and wait for her to return. Say a polite goodbye and call it a night. But shit, that would throw off all the wrong signals. That I don’t want this. That I don’t want her. And hell, I am not sure that I want to do that either.

  I sit and look out across the wooded area in her backyard and debate whether I am staying or going. Something I keep fucking going back and forth on, and it is starting to kill me wrestling with what I want versus what we need. And although I know I sound wishy-washy as hell, when you have been through what I have you learn that patience, time, fuckin self-control is the only path to making a right decision in the end.

  Rose deserves that. She deserves someone to handle her with the kind of care she is not capable of giving herself in her dark time. I know, because it is the kind of person I only dreamed of when I walked through my own hell. The kind of person I should have been when I saw Charlette walk through hers. But unlike me, pushing everyone and everything away when I needed them most, Rose is open to possibilities, and that one sliver of acceptance is what keeps me sticking around, tonight at least.

 

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