by Lisa De Jong
I swallowed hard, trying to rid myself of the insecurity I felt. That little voice had piped up again, telling me he should be with her. “How...how do you feel about her?”
His immediate, malignant response took me by surprise. “I despise her.”
I blinked, failing to understand. “Why?” Maybe he didn’t want to have a child with her, but it didn’t make him any less responsible for their situation than she was.
Lines set deep in his forehead as he took a deep breath, and I felt the undercurrent of hatred as he spoke of her.
“She got pregnant on purpose, Melanie. I made it clear I have no interest in her, but she won’t leave me alone. She wants money, and she’s using this baby as a pawn.” He grimaced, his eyes pained as they searched mine for understanding.
I was horror-struck. Did people really do stuff like that?
Suddenly, any trace of envy I had for her was gone.
The only way I knew to give him comfort was to draw him closer, to murmur that I was sorry. In our separation, we had both made such destructive choices.
He held me, his voice urgent as he whispered against my ear, “She’s going to try to tear us apart. Don’t let her.”
I shook my head buried in the crook of his neck, reminding him of the promise I’d made to him two days ago when I’d pledged him my life. “Forever.”
His breath washed across my face as he placed a small kiss below my ear. “Forever.”
With our confidence restored, the stress dissipated, and we settled back into our easy conversation as we shared a bowl of vanilla ice cream and a pile of fortune cookies.
Daniel smiled at the weathered Asian woman who dropped off our check, wishing her a good night, before he slid from his chair, watching me intently as I followed suit. The moment I stood, he stepped to me and placed a hand on each of my hips, drawing me to him. His kiss was no longer sweet and playful, but filled with a hunger that set me off kilter. I suddenly wished we were somewhere a little less public. His hands traveled farther down my sides until they found the heated, bare skin of my legs, and he hooked his thumbs under the hem of my skirt. His voice came low and pleading as he asked, “My place?”
Chapter Twenty
That dress.
I sped down the street, failing to keep my eyes on the road. Instead, they continually traveled back to the place where Melanie’s creamy, white flesh flowed from that dress and met my black leather seats. She was trying to kill me. I’d nearly had a heart attack when I’d seen what she was wearing.
Thankfully I’d parked two houses down from the Preston’s when I’d arrived to pick her up for our date. When I’d stepped from my car, I’d almost not seen the car speeding down the street. But as soon as I had, I’d recognized Nicholas immediately and retreated to my car, ducking down in the seat. I’d felt so helpless. I’d wanted to confront him, to protect Melanie from him, to jump from my car and tell him she was mine, but I could do nothing. So I’d hidden like a coward.
He probably wouldn’t have noticed me anyway. His only concern was Melanie’s car parked in the Preston’s driveway. I couldn’t see his face, but even from a distance, I could see the anger rolling from him. I had no idea what he intended, what Melanie had told him, or what he knew. All I could do was wait, helpless, while someone else protected my girl. It sucked.
I’d watched while he stood on the porch and talked to someone for a few minutes before leaving, angrier than when he had arrived.
When I’d finally made it inside their house, I was shaken. The only thing on my mind was Melanie’s safety, and it wasn’t until she’d stepped away from me to get her coat and purse that I’d noticed what she wore. It was single-handedly the most arousing thing I’d ever seen.
Melanie had always been breathtakingly beautiful, but she’d grown into the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. I’d spent the evening dueling with my self-control. My body was hyperaware of her every move, the way she’d cross and uncross her legs under the table, her leg brushing up against mine as she did. My blood slowly simmered, building to a rolling boil. I’d managed to keep myself restrained until Melanie slid from the booth, and then it was all over. I had to touch, to feel where light met dark. Her skin was like fire against my fingertips. I’d never left a restaurant so fast in my life.
Now I found myself trying to focus on the road in front of me. It was nearly impossible as Melanie tried to inconspicuously rub her thighs together. Her fingers kneaded the leather, her breath still heavy as she unabashedly stared at me from her seat. I glared at the hem of her dress, silently cursing it for taunting me all night.
She pulled the hem down. “Don’t look at me like that. I had to borrow something from Katie.”
I couldn’t help but grin at her, a small laugh escaping as I shook my head. She couldn’t be more off base.
“No, baby, I like the dress.” I was just going to like it much, much more in a pile on my bedroom floor. “You look...really good.” Too good. She relaxed when I reached out and gently tugged a fistful of the material to show her just how much I liked it.
Pulling into the parking garage, I swung the car into my spot. I jumped out and rushed around, nearly dragging Melanie from the car in my excitement to get her upstairs. A shiver ran up my spine with the sound of her pealing laughter as she raced to keep up with me. Her face was radiant. She giggled and her brown curls bounced against her shoulders as she struggled to keep up. Absolutely exquisite.
In one fluid movement, I spun her into a little half twirl, guiding our arms over her head before I drew her back to my chest. I nuzzled my nose in her hair as we slowly swayed to the rhythm of our pounding hearts in an impromptu dance.
The elevator chimed and we stepped forward. The resounding energy bounding between us was nearly insufferable in the tight quarters. My hands were firm on her stomach as I drew her to me. Reaching up behind her, she wrapped her arm around neck. Soft fingers played, pulling, tugging, massaging. My sudden lightheadedness had nothing to do with the elevator ride to the twenty-first floor. The door opened, and I took her hand to lead her out. “Ready?”
My nerves flared as I prepared to show her where I lived. Would this be our home? I unlocked the door, and she stepped in. Her face was thoughtful as she assessed the large, open space. Her words from long ago rang out, “It would never be home unless you’re here in it with me,” and I knew it didn’t matter. Wherever we lived, it would be home simply because we were together.
I watched as she explored my apartment, running her fingertips along the throw pillows on the couch, inspecting the art on the walls. Whenever she recognized the few things from our house, a faint smile would grace her lips. She pulled one of the photo albums from the bookshelf, gasping when she saw most of the pictures were of her.
In a blink, a tear rushed down her cheek. I cautiously came up behind her. “I told you I never let you go.”
“I know. This was just unexpected.” She flipped through the pages, smiling through her tears, every few seconds glancing at me when she’d come across one that seemed to provoke a particularly fond memory. “This is amazing, Daniel. I can’t believe you have these...”
Her hand froze when she came to the last. “You have this, too?” She looked up at me with shocked wonder as she asked about the one picture I had of Eva, the one Mom had snapped the first time I’d held her. I nodded before realizing what Melanie had said.
“Wait, you have this picture? How?”
“There was this box from the hospital; it was filled with a bunch of get well cards and stuff. I found it under my bed in Dallas. I have no idea how it even got there.” She shook her head. “Anyway, this was in there. I found it the day...” She closed her eyes, her voice tapering off.
“What day?” I reached out to stroke her cheek, encouraging her to open up to me.
“The day I went back for you...I saw it and knew I had to go.”
“Melanie,” I breathed out as a whisper. I took the album from her and set it aside,
wrapped her up in my arms. She buried her head in my chest.
“It’s okay, Daniel. I’m just thankful to have had it...to have a face to put with Eva’s memory.”
God, I couldn’t even imagine what she must have felt when she found it. I could remember Eva’s face, the way she felt in my arms, the way she smelled, even the little sounds she made. But Melanie only had the small picture. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish you would have seen her.”
“Me too.”
“Can you believe we would have had a nine-year-old by now?” I barely choked out the sentence, and Melanie’s arms tightened around my waist.
“She would have been amazing. Smart and sweet. She would have had your eyes,” she said as she pulled back to look at me with glistening eyes and a wistful smile.
“And your hair.” I ran my hands through her hair, twisting my fingers through the curls as I imagined it on a little girl with my eyes.
It felt so good to comfort her, to talk to her, to finally feel like the man I was supposed to be—one that was there for his family. This was what Melanie needed—what I needed—to mourn together over our lost daughter. Yeah, it was nine years late, but it was necessary and surprisingly welcome.
Melanie stepped back, released a heavy breath, and shook herself off. Squeezing my hand, she whispered, “Thank you.”
I tucked her hair behind her ear, touched her face. “I needed that as much as you, Melanie.”
Her face lit in understanding, and she graced me with a small, peaceful smile. Somehow that heavy moment had left us feeling light and free.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked.
“Please.” She nodded.
I kissed her on the corner of her mouth before making my way to the kitchen where I selected a bottle of red wine and dug through the drawer to find an opener.
Melanie sank into the couch. She relaxed against the plush pillows, her legs drawn up under her.
“So, what do you think of the place?” I gestured around the room, watching closely for her reaction. I knew it was nice by most people’s standards. The kitchen was sleek and modern, sharp lines and high ceilings making a perfect flow into the attached living room. Brown leather couches sat almost intrusively on the beige carpet, situated around the flat screen TV that rested on the entertainment console in the corner. She hadn’t seen the rest of it, only missing the bedroom and a small office. Her gaze went almost immediately to the view of the Chicago lights glinting through floor to ceiling windows that opened to the balcony. To me it was the most inviting part of the whole place.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
I didn’t know if she was simply referring to the view or the apartment. Even after all the work Erin and Mom had put into it, I had found it cold and hollow. But with Melanie on my couch, it suddenly felt warm. A place I would look forward to coming home to at the end of the day only because she would be here, waiting for me. Her eyes still focused outside, and her brow creased as she continued to think. She turned back to face me expectantly, as if I should know what she was thinking.
I had no clue.
“I’m thinking you’re going to need to move.”
I should have expected that. This place was nothing like the little house I’d bought for us. It had been perfect for her, for us, but that was when we were going to have a family. I just didn’t know if she still wanted something like that.
“That’s fine. We’ll move wherever you want.” I grabbed two glasses on my way back and settled in beside her. Pouring each of us a glass, I handed Melanie hers before taking my own. I mirrored her pose, my elbow perched against the back of the couch and one leg tucked up under me, our knees overlapping.
“Maybe a little house out by my parents?” If I knew Melanie, she’d want to be near them. I couldn’t contain the excitement I felt at that thought—Melanie and my family. I could hardly wait for them to be together again, but I would need to give that some time. Sneaking around was proving hard enough, let alone adding my family to the mix.
“Not for me, Daniel. I would be perfectly happy here just because I’m with you.” She shifted and reached out to brush her fingertips along the top of my knuckles. “I meant you’re going to need a different place for your son.”
My son. Who could imagine two words could sting so much? My son. Not our son. But Daniel’s son. Vanessa’s son. Would I ever be able to think of him and not feel sick?
The worst part was that Melanie was the one making me aware of my responsibility to him. Moving had never even crossed my mind, but as I looked around my apartment, I couldn’t imagine a child being here.
Really, though, could I see that child anywhere? In any aspect of my life? Not at all. And that terrified me.
“Will you help me?” It was clear I was asking a lot more of her than help finding an acceptable place for us to live. I hated putting so much pressure on her, the responsibility I was asking her to take on, passing my mistake on to her. She’d promised that whatever came our way, we’d deal with together, but this was different; I wasn’t just asking her to tolerate it, I was asking her to be a part of it.
Her muscles tensed slightly. If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I would have missed it. The sorrow that invaded her passed just as quickly as it had come. When it was gone, an expression of determination took its place. “You know I’ll be here for you.”
“You are the most remarkable person. Do you know that?” I didn’t wait for an answer, knowing she was likely to disagree. I lightly brushed my lips against hers and silently thanked her for being an amazing woman.
She rewarded me by unfolding her gorgeous legs and leaning against me. I turned to recline against the arm of the couch and stretched out my legs so she could settle between them.
It was perfect, her hair bunched up over my shoulder, her fingertips playing along my pant leg, her body draped over mine as we shared the bottle of wine. I mindlessly twisted a lock of her hair around my finger, the curl eternal as I wound it round and round.
She glanced back at me, her eyes alight with joy. “I’m so proud of you, Daniel. I always knew you were going to be an amazing doctor.”
I squeezed her hip, kissing the top of her head. “It’s Dad who made it all happen. I’m just glad he asked me to be a part of it.”
“What’s it like having all of these sick people come to you? I mean, is it what you thought it would be?”
“Hmm...I don’t know. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it. There’s so much pressure. It can be very sad and very rewarding all in the same day.”
She nodded. “I can only imagine.”
We continued to drink and laugh as she asked me questions about my job, what school had been like, and the things I’d done with my family over the years. She giggled as I told her of all the mistakes I’d made along the way and the crazy things I’d witnessed on my ER rotation in New York City. So much had seemed insignificant through the haze of nothing I’d lived. Now, with my girl in my arms, her body shaking as she laughed, I could almost see what life would have been like had she been there. As she experienced my life through the stories I told, it felt as if I was experiencing it for the first time myself.
By the time she’d told me about the important events in her life over the last nine years, the bottle was polished off, and we were both totally at ease. We grinned from ear to ear, neither attempting to hide our bliss.
Melanie suddenly rolled, bringing us chest to chest, her lips on mine. The movement rekindled the fire that had been smoldering the entire night. Her mouth was hot and a little bit sloppy. Her hands pressed firmly into my shoulders as she held herself over me. She straddled my legs, the energy consuming, forceful, pushing us together. I dove my fingers into her hair, kissed her hard. She fumbled through the buttons of my shirt, unwilling to break our frantic kiss.
I pushed her back, and Melanie groaned in protest. I stood and pulled her with me, my mouth immediately taking hers again as we stumbled blindly to m
y room.
The light from the bathroom shed a faint glow across the room. I spun her, edging her back, anxious to see her lying across my bed.
I watched as she scooted back, her creamy skin in perfect contrast to the thick, black comforter. Her hair spilled all around her face as she lay back against my pillow, the gold chain around her neck a reminder of our forever.
There was no hesitation as I climbed onto the bed, losing the shirt hanging from my shoulders in the process. I devoured her mouth, neck, arms, anything I could find, my hands as greedy as my mouth.
Snaking my hand under her dress, I pushed it higher, revealing her inch by inch. With her arms outstretched above her, I pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor where it belonged.
“Make love to me, Daniel.”
Those words shot straight through me. Quickly, I shed the rest of my clothes. Her fingers sank into my back as I sank into her. Our bodies moved unhurried, slow and hard and absolutely perfect.
I was in complete ecstasy until I saw her wrist, the skin contused and so carefully concealed behind the large silver cuff.
He hurt her.
My beautiful girl continued to move beneath me, her eyes closed, lost in a sea of pleasure while I looked down at her in horror, the reality hitting me hard.
She had stayed because of him. Not because of her mom. Not because of Katie and Shane. Not because of some stupid building. But because she was scared of him.
I couldn’t make sense of the emotions running through me, emotions that I poured out on Melanie as I abruptly wrapped her up in my arms. I fought to erase any space between us, my arms urgent as I mashed her chest against mine, unable to get her close enough.
I was consumed with jealousy and hatred, the need to destroy. It all mixed with my love, my need to protect, to keep her secure. Both of those desires melted into one. All I knew was that he hurt my girl, and he was going to pay.
“Hey.” A delicate hand brushed back my hair, stroking, easing, calming. “Come back to me.” Melanie’s eyes burned into mine, searching the storm, caressing the creases that had gathered on my forehead. Her expression washed in relief when my eyes came back into focus.