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Authors: Lisa de Jong

Bent not Broken (77 page)

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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“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 my 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.

I kissed her gently, struggling to keep the rage at bay. I wouldn’t let Nicholas take this moment, too.

All the hate and fear and dread I felt were channeled into my love, my desire, my need to make her whole. I allowed myself to hear every contented sound that dropped from her lips, every whimper, every tiny moan. I allowed myself to feel every tremble, every twitch, every roll of pleasure traveling through her body.

With each one, I silently promised to keep her safe, to protect her, and to never allow that bastard to hurt her again.

****

I rolled to the side and snuggled behind her, reaching down to drape the sheet over us. I kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder and back. Shivers rolled down her spine as she relaxed into me.

“I love you.” I hugged her tighter, stressing how much I meant it. She let out a satisfied sigh, and she drew my arm more firmly around her. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was sure to be a battle. “I can’t let you go back there, Melanie.”

I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her muscles tense. Running my hand down her arm to her wrist, I brought it to my lips, placing gentle kisses along the bruised skin. “He hurt you,” I said against the black and blue.

Her pulse quickened under my palm, and I knew she was going to resist. “Daniel,” she said as she released a heavy breath, “you have to.”

I shook my head into her hair. “You’re not safe there.”

“You have to trust me on this. I know what I’m doing.” Her voice was strong, completely unexpected. She rolled over to face me, her body flush against mine. “This is the best way.”

My mouth opened and closed as I struggled to find the right words to argue her logic.

“You don’t know him like I do.” Her expression was intense, pleading. “Please...just...
don’t
.”

What was I supposed to say to that?

In frustration, I raked a hand through my hair. Why did she have to be so stubborn? She was placing herself at risk. And for what? She was afraid he was going to hurt her, so she put herself in the very position where he
could
hurt her. It didn’t make any sense.

“I know what you’re thinking, Daniel. It’s not stupid. I have a plan.”

I opened my mouth to tell her just how stupid it actually was, when the doorbell rang. Melanie’s eyes widened with fear, and she jerked up in bed, pulling the sheet higher and tighter around herself as if it were a shield.

I took her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Baby, it’s okay. Just stay here and be quiet.”

On the inside, I was terrified. If he found her here, I could only imagine what would happen.

Sifting through the clothes on the floor, I found my underwear and pulled them on as fast as I could. I tossed Melanie my button up, figuring it would provide more coverage than her dress. I pressed my index finger to my lips before I walked from the room and shut the door behind me.

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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