Page 248

Bent not Broken Page 248

by Lisa De Jong


Adrian follows me into the sunroom and starts massaging my shoulders before I can make a move to sit down. Reveling in his touch, I lean back into him and moan. God, that feels so good. I utter that exact sentiment without thinking, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“You’re so easy to please,” he says as his expert hands make their way down my back in a soothing, rhythmic pattern.

He relaxes me enough that I’m able to say what I feel is all. I turn and grab his hands in mine. His stare focuses on my hands, so I crouch down a little to get his attention. “What are you thinking right now?”

Kissing the backs of my hands, he releases them and strides over to look out over my back lawn. I allow him to have a minute to himself before sliding over and snaking my arms around his middle. Laying my head between his shoulder blades, I focus on breathing in and out for a few minutes and let his scent saturate my every pore.

Pulling back, I repeat his techniques from earlier as I wait for him to disclose what’s going on in that beautiful head of his.

I hear him draw in a shaky breath after a few minutes, and it startles me. He finally turns to me and pulls me to him almost violently. His hands and mouth are everywhere, and like a leaf clinging to its branch in a storm, I latch on tight and take him.

He shudders under me before pulling back and grasping both sides of my face, his frantic gaze seeking mine out.

“You’re scaring me,” I mutter. I’ve never seen such a wounded look in someone’s eyes before, and I can feel the pain and restraint emanating from him.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I don’t mean to. It’s just what I’m about to say is killing me, but I have to say it. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I have to, though.”

Rubbing my hands up and down his arms, I say, “I’ll be fine. I just need you to talk to me. We’re going to be fine.”

“I...I don’t want you to wait for me.” I try to pull back on those words but he doesn’t let me, his hands pressing in hard. “You don’t deserve that after everything you’ve been through. You watched your husband die a slow, painful death and struggled to make it own your own with your boys. And you did, but that was hell. I don’t want to be the one causing you pain, Celeste. You don’t deserve to sit here and worry about me and wonder when or if I’m coming home. That’s not fair.”

Even though his hands make it difficult for me to speak, I can’t get my next words out fast enough. “Adrian, I love you. Period. End of discussion. I will wait for you to come home so that we can be together because I cannot, will not have it any other way. Neither of us deserves any of this, but you’ll go and serve our country because that’s who you are. And I’ll be here waiting for you to come back to me because that’s who I am.”

His hold relaxes; his forehead falls to mine. I close my eyes and breathe him in before he pulls back and places a series of kisses on my forehead. “What did I do to deserve you? We’ve barely been together three weeks, and you’re willing to wait on me for six months? We haven’t even slept together. Do you even know what you are waiting for?” he asks with a chuckle. Oh, thank goodness, my Adrian is back from that dark place that suggested he leave me.

“It’s like I told my family—I’ve been falling in love with you for a long time. This is not a casual relationship for me. I’m not in this to have a good time.”

His brow furrows before he asks, “You’re not having a good time?”

I laugh in earnest now at my sweet man. “Oh, yes, worrying about our delightful family, fighting off your various groupies, and watching you try to break up with me is all great fun.”

“Geez, so much drama. I hope he’s worth it,” he says as he leans in to suck my bottom lip into his mouth.

“Oh, he’s worth it all right,” I’m able to mumble before he consumes me.

Sixteen

Shades of Blue

SIX MONTHS, I tell myself for the millionth time. Six months. Not even the length of a school year or a pregnancy. I can do this. We can do this. I shouldn’t even be feeling sorry for myself. Adrian is the one who has to go to the front lines and fight in a war that he doesn’t believe in and all without me. I get to stay here and live my posh life. Yeah, I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal.

Four days. Four days is a remarkably short time period. When it’s the bulk of a workweek, we’re talking about, it seems like forever. When it’s all you have with the love of your life, it’s nothing. Time has that uncanny ability to speed its ass up when you’re begging it to slow down, and to slow its ass to a crawl when you’re begging for it to speed up.

I’m trying so hard not to dwell on the elusive bitch that is time. Yes, I’d taken to using more profanity than ever but only in my head. Adrian’s plan is to prepare to leave and spend as much time with us as possible before he has to ship out. The first two days he dedicated to running the legal and logistical errands that he had to get squared away while doting on the boys as much as possible.

When he leans over me while I am doing the dishes and whispers in my ear that he is taking me away for those last two days, I almost weep with relief. I can’t wait to get him to myself. Sorry, boys.

While he ran his errands, I ran mine. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going only that I wouldn’t need much in the way of clothing, which caused my stomach to do acrobatics of astounding feats. So I bought lots of silk—red silk, emerald silk, and my favorite, aquamarine silk that reminded me of Adrian’s eyes. He did ask that I pack one dress that I wouldn’t mind wearing for photos. I was too excited to ask questions.

After dinner the night before we are to leave, I turn in surprise when I realize he’s followed me into my room as I go to change. I gasp. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see what dress you’ve chosen to bring. Will you show me?”

“Do you want me to put it on?” My curiosity is piqued, but I’d do anything for this man so I don’t question it.

“No, not yet. I’ll just have a peek if you don’t mind,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

Blushing, my voice turns soft when I tell him, “No, I don’t mind.” I go into my closet and remove the black v-neck dress hanging on one of the hooks by the door. It’s my go-to dress and, since he won’t tell me what it’s for, I figure it will do in any situation. I bring it out with a flourish, twirling it in front of me. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re...I mean...it’s gorgeous. But it’s not what I have in mind. Do you have anything lighter? Like more ‘summery’?”

“OK, you definitely need to work on your ability to describe clothing,” I joke before I disappear into my closet. I sort through and find a “summery” dress even though it’s going on Halloween. I pop back out, brandishing a flowery ensemble.

He squishes his face up and shakes his head. OK, this could go on all night.

I go back in and come out with three dresses—a light pink billowy, a yellow sleek, and a gray seersucker apron. All to which he screws his face up and shakes his head.

He jumps up from the bed, snatches the dresses from me, and sits me on my bed. “Let me see what I can do, madame,” he tells me. I laugh and shake my head at his antics. What is he playing at?

I study my nails for a moment, thinking I really need to get them done, but there’s no time. Then I pick up my phone and play with it for a minute. Finally, I pick up my book and read a scene before calling out, “You all right in there?”

“Yep, be out in a minute,” he calls back. I read another scene.

I see some movement out of the corner of my eye and turn my head toward him to see what he’s found. “You have a lot of damn clothes,” he complains.

“I know. I collect,” I say without a qualm.

Finally, I look over to what he’s holding. “Really?” I ask without a little shock.

He just grins at me. I shrug. It’s one of my favorite pieces, but I’d never had the occasion to wear it. I’d never have expected him to choose it, but I’d wear
a brown paper sack for him if I had the right shoes to go with it.

****

GETTING BONNIE SETTLED in with the boys is no easy task. They’re thrilled beyond belief to have her come and stay with them, and she is running around my house like a madwoman. They’ll have a great time together so no worries there.

As we are leaving, Bonnie calls out, “How am I supposed to get in touch, just in case, you know?”

“You can call our cells, and we won’t be too far,” Adrian assures her.

She leans in to hug me goodbye and whispers, “I’m loving all this mystery. Keeps you on your toes.”

“No doubt. And Garner’s not staying over, right?”

“No, Mom, I didn’t forget how uptight, uh, I mean traditional you are.”

I just smirk before kissing my boys goodbye with promises of prayers and toothbrushes and sleeping tight.

Pulling out on to the road, I wave goodbye to my little family with tears in my eyes. I hadn’t left them in a long, long time. As we pull onto Carrollton, Adrian says, “Hand.” I giggle and slide my hand into his waiting one. He pulls it up and places a sweet little kiss on my knuckles before resting our intertwined hands on his thigh.

We ride in companionable silence for a couple of miles before he passes Highway 90 and then the best way to get to Interstate 10. I don’t say anything because this trip is his baby, and I know men hate to be told how to drive. When we’re headed into the French Quarter, I get really confused. When he pulls into the valet area of Hotel Monteleone, I have to turn to him and ask, “What are we doing here?”

“You love this hotel,” he states with a shrug.

“Yes, but I thought we were going away.”

“This is away. I’ve thought of much better ways we could spend our time other than riding along beside each other in a vehicle. What do you think?”

“I think that’s brilliant,” I say with a laugh as the valet opens my door.

After getting checked in to this magnificent hotel, we head upstairs to our room. It’s soft blues and yellows and has an amazing view. I can’t even imagine how much he’s paid for us to be able to check in early and at the last minute. I’d offer to help out, but I don’t want to offend him. I know he makes decent money being a musician, but I also know his family has cut him off completely moneywise.

Standing in front of the picture window and overlooking the Mississippi, I imagine what our life will be like when he returns. I see nothing but happiness and blue skies ahead for us. Is he frustrating? Yes. Does he drive me insane? Yes. Is he slightly domineering? Triple yes. Have I ever felt more challenged, more loved, more cherished? No. No. No.

I hear Ray LaMontagne’s “Hold You in My Arms” start up, and then I feel Adrian’s lips on my neck and his hands on my waist. He’s swaying side to side, taking my hands in his as he simultaneously spins me around and under his arm. I really try to stop the sigh that exudes from my entire body but it’s no use. He’s so sigh-worthy.

“Do you remember the first time we heard this song?” he asks his voice turning raspy.

“I do,” I whisper and lay my head on his shoulder as he moves me around the room. I’d had my satellite radio on my favorite station that was renowned for being the first for playing the next big thing. I was in the process of turning this gorgeous song up when Adrian stopped what he was doing with the boys and joined me in the kitchen, telling me to turn it up. We shared a laugh when he saw what I was doing. Staring at the information on the screen, we both downloaded it within minutes and then plugged in my iPod to the speakers and put it on repeat. I grabbed Finn up and spun him around the room. Adrian just sat and watched us dance around. Kissing the top of Finn’s head, I tossed him on the couch and grabbed Paris, making him dance with me. Then, I couldn’t leave Archer out, so I grabbed him up to.

“That’s one of my earliest and fondest memories of you,” he tells me. I lean back from my comfy position to take him in. “I remember thinking that you were the best person I’d ever met in my whole life. The way you are with your children. Your love for them is always shining through even when you’re irritated with them or they’re being little shits. They’ll never question whether or not they’re loved and accepted. I remember wanting to be a part of that, wanting you to love me like that.” I swallow hard, trying not to get weepy. He laughs a little. “I even prayed about it. I asked God to show me a way that we could be together where no one would get hurt. I got nothing, though.”

“Do you really think you got nothing? Because that’s not the way I see it. Yes, we didn’t jump right into each other’s arms, but we have almost two years of memories of our falling in love with one another. That’s what this time has meant to me and what has made me so sure that we’ll work. I love you on so many levels—person, friend, confidant, almost-lover,” I say with a blush and light giggle, “father—”

“I’m not a father,” he protests.

“Are you kidding me? You may not be biologically. But, Adrian, you put our boys before everything else, you love them unconditionally, you look out for their best interests, you spend time with them, you listen to them, you respect them. That’s what a father is, baby. It’s not a piece of paper or even blood that declares it so. It’s doing those little things every single day that add up to being everything.”

“You said ‘our boys,’” he says as he kisses me lightly on my nose. “And, I guess, when you put it like that, I sound pretty amazing. What a lucky girl you are,” he half-jokes as he spins me out and back in.

“Still so humble,” I joke back.

His face turns somber again. “You and the boys...our boys are everything to me, Celeste. You have been for a long time, and I’m so proud that I can let everyone in on that life-altering fact because that’s what it is—y’all have changed my life. Up until now, I’d felt like an imposter or a drifter. Like I just didn’t fit in with my family, and I was coasting along. I found music and the Corps, and that helped a lot, but it still wasn’t enough. Then I met y’all and all of a sudden I had a purpose and was loved and accepted.” I feel him tremble beneath my hands a little. “When I’d think about you meeting someone and not needing me anymore, I would get cold chills. When I saw that you weren’t in a hurry to meet anyone, I thanked God. I didn’t even feel bad that you might have felt lonely. Not one of my finer moments.”

“I can’t fault you for that. I had similar thoughts about you finding someone. It scared the hell out of me. I kept waiting for someone to see how beautiful you are—not just your looks,” I say when he smirks at me. I tap his heart with my fingertips. “Here, sweetheart. You have the most beautiful heart, the most beautiful soul.”

He clears his throat a little. “I don’t think you were in danger of anyone seeing that because I’d never felt confident to just be myself before I met you.”

“I am one lucky girl,” I breathe.

“We’re well-matched in luck then,” he agrees with a kiss.

We’re still swaying back and forth when it dawns on me the music has ended and long ago too. “The music’s ended,” I tell him.

He stops moving and pulls our hands in front of us before dropping down in front of me on his knees. “Our music will never end, Celeste.” My heart comes to a sliding stop right in my throat. He runs his hand through his hair for a second. “Ah, I had this all planned out. A romantic lunch, a rehearsed proposal, but I can’t wait. I have to do this now.”

My hands are suddenly clammy and my pulse is racing. He’s already told me he’s marrying me, and not just once, but still. I watch mesmerized as he pulls a little box from his pocket and cracks it open. I gasp because the ring is the exact color of his eyes. “Celeste Marie Dubois Hebert, will you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife?”

I’m nodding the entire time, tears streaming down my face. “Yes, Adrian, I would be honored to be your wife.”

“Perfect,” he says, sliding the aquamarine engagement ring on my finger, “because we have a date
to get married in just a few hours.” The grin he gives me is brilliant. I’ve never seen him smile so big, and I’ve never felt my heart plummet so hard.

Sputtering, I say, “Adrian, I...don’t you think that’s kind of soon? I mean three weeks. We haven’t even slept together. Are we going to tell anyone? Would it be a Catholic ceremony?” I realize I’m babbling and spitting some of the same issues he’d given me a few nights ago. The same issues I’d brushed aside in favor of our staying together while he is deployed, but I’m blown away.

Adrian pulls me down to the floor with him before he pulls me close, breaks my heart, and mends it all at once with his next words. “I have to go there knowing that I'm yours to protect,” he says, pausing for a second and bringing his lips a hair’s breadth from mine. “Because I'd never do anything to hurt you, Celeste, including getting myself killed.”

I close the small distance to his mouth and urge his lips open with mine, thrusting my tongue against his before I slow down and lightly run it alongside his until he joins me. Pulling my mouth from his, I open my eyes and meet his blues and give him another little kiss.

I let my eyes drift over to my ring that’s resting on his shoulder. “The stone is the same color as your eyes, and the ring of diamonds that surrounds it is exactly like the halo of silver that surrounds your pupil.”

He laughs nervously. “I didn’t consider that. But it is your birthstone. And I just know you wear a lot of that color and have a lot of that color decorating your house.”