For Life (Reclaimed Hearts Book 1) (31 page)
Cassie
Being in Delaware with their family is good for my kids, even though Chloe’s asked several times when Grady will be here. I don’t know what to say. I have no idea how to even begin to address what I saw at Grady’s house. Chloe and Caden don’t know much about the reasons we split up when they were younger. Once when they asked us, Grady said he was too young and stupid to realize what he had. I never said anything to them about the drinking at all, although I know Grady’s told them that he had a problem with it when he was younger and quit. How on earth will I explain what he’s done? It will break their hearts. I don’t even have the nerve to be honest with Donna about it just yet. This news will kill her.
And of course he hasn’t called me.
Late in the afternoon, Donna pulls me aside and says, “I just want you to know he’s okay.”
“Who’s okay?”
“Grady. He can’t find his phone and he’s been sick. He went to the urgent care today, and he’s not contagious, he just has a bad cold. He had Craig and Dave over on Friday night, started feeling sick when they were there, and woke up really sick on Saturday morning. Then he went back to sleep and didn’t wake up until a couple of hours ago.”
“How do you know all this if he can’t find his phone?”
“I called him on the land line.” She smiles and wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me against her. “Remember those?” she teases. “I actually know how to use one.”
I try to return her smile, still reeling from the revelation. The explanation makes sense, but I can still smell and see those bottles. I can’t get that shocking moment out of my head. And how do I know he’s not just saying all that to his mother? Of course he’s not about to admit to going on a bender.
“Are you two okay?” she asks softly. The worry lines that disappeared just a couple months ago as she came to terms with Carl’s death are back around her eyes and mouth.
“We had an argument,” I admit.
“He’ll cool off eventually,” she says, and then I feel horrible, because he shouldn’t have to cool off. He should have a woman who doesn’t second-guess him, not one who holds onto anger for things he did a decade ago. He should have a woman who believes in him, heart and soul, not one who doubts his every move, waiting for the other shoe to drop so she can scurry into her righteous little corner and fling blame at him. I’m so ashamed I can barely swallow. I want to confess to her what I’ve done, but I can’t stand to see disappointment in her eyes, too. Not after everything.
I grasp for something to say, anything to take the shadows from her face. “Renée said she’s bringing the kids by later.”
That brightens her. “Are they staying for dinner?”
I nod. “I asked her to. I figured you wouldn’t mind. I’ll order pizzas so we don’t have to cook or clean up.”
“Sounds good,” she says, slipping away because even though her company is family and won’t be there for another two hours, she’s house proud to a fault and has to go scrub something. As she passes me standing numbly in the door frame, staring at my phone as if willing it to ring, she pats my arm. “Don’t give up on my boy, Cass. He loves you to the moon and back.”
The more I think about it, the more Donna’s explanation makes sense. It wouldn’t have been humanly possible for him to drink all that alcohol alone, and I know he didn’t drink any during the week, because he was with me. Craig and his wife are having marriage problems, and Dave just goes with the flow. The bottles don’t prove anything.
I’m an idiot.
Or am I being rightfully cautious? I can’t tell anymore.
Renée bring the kids over. J.J. and Noah are the evening entertainment, making up a ridiculous song about pizza and giggling so infectiously everyone else laughs, too. My kids adore their little cousins and dote on them throughout dinner. Caden even wipes Noah’s sauce-stained face and rolls up his sleeves for him so they don’t drag in his food. The echoes of our children’s combined laughter peal throughout the house. Even when I excuse myself to use the bathroom and check my phone, their joyful giggling follows me down the hall.
When I return, I stop in the doorway and watch them. I marvel at my son’s self-assuredness, even in the aftermath of an unspeakable breach of trust. I’m warmed by my daughter’s uncharacteristic lightheartedness, her pleasure in the simple silliness of her cousins’ antics. I admire the boisterous resiliency of the three little ones who no longer have their father. And Renée is finally smiling, surrounded by family, her searing loss tucked away so she can enjoy the here and now. Even Sophie kicks her little legs and babbles excitedly. The energy of the room is infectious. They’re all doing what I should be doing. Living in the here and now.
Watching Renée smile makes me feel so ashamed. My sister-in-law has experienced real tragedy, but she’s managed to pull her shit together and enjoy her family, while I - like a spoiled, sulky teenager- manage to screw things up with Grady as if his steadfast love isn’t a blessing. One I don’t deserve at that. I sneak back down the hallway and send a text message.
I’m a horrible jerk. Please forgive me. I love you.
But just like my other ones, the message goes unanswered.
* * * *
Later that night a text message comes from Grady, only it’s not from Grady.
Craig here
, it reads.
I have his phone.
— He couldn’t find it,
I text back.
I’ll let him know.
— Figured you’d see him first. Are you really a jerk? I don’t see it.
— You have no idea.
— LOL. Tell him I’m sorry for Friday night when he gets there.
I decide to call Grady’s house, just to let him know that Craig has his cell phone. I have no intention of getting into a full discussion, but I’m worried about him and he needs to know about his phone.
When I hear his steady voice on the outgoing message, I crack. “Grady.” I can barely force his name off my tongue, as if I’m no longer good enough to even utter it. “My love. I’m sorry. I—”
Doing this over the phone is cowardly. I need to get my ass back to Ohio and do this face-to-face, but that would mean explaining myself even further to the kids and Donna. I’m already mortified at how quickly I jumped to conclusions. I’ve already cut him deep enough.
An invisible fist squeezes inside my throat. For a few seconds all I can do is mentally struggle with the apology I can’t seem to choke out, even though it’s been sitting like a lead weight on my chest since he left my house.
“I screwed up,” I finally blurt. “I keep screwing up. I don’t even know why you want me. I can’t think straight. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I was wrong, and—”
A sob wrenches from my throat. “Baby. Please. I’m sorry. Call me back. Call me back and tell me you don’t hate me. Just… Can you do that? Please? No matter what?” I end the call before my tears blind me.
I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t forgive me. I don’t know how I’ll manage to lose him again, because if I walk away from him a second time, I know I’ll never get him back.
Cassie
At 11:30 p.m. I’m brushing my teeth when I hear the front door creak open. For a second I think maybe Renée forgot something and came back for it, until I hear the familiar tread of Grady’s footsteps - first in the foyer, then around the entire downstairs as he checks to be sure all the doors are locked, and finally on the stairs.
I fly out of the bathroom and meet him at the top of the stairs, suffused with shock that he came but willing to do and say anything to make him stay. When I ask the question with my eyes, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and hauls me against him, kissing me deeply in a way that answers,
Cassie, I forgive you
.
“I flew,” he says before I can ask.
“You could have called.”
“No, I couldn’t have. His mouth is hot on mine, and I respond just as eagerly. He steps me backwards into the guest bedroom, devouring me the whole way, kicking the door closed behind us.
“I’m sorry,” I weep against his cold neck.
“I know you are.”
“I’m going to get better at this.”
“Baby.” He pulls back to look at me, cradling my face in his icy hands. “We had a fight. We both said things we didn’t mean. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m here.” His words are soothing, but his body is as tight as a drum, as if he wasn’t sure he’d be received this way.
“You’re here,” I marvel. “I can’t believe it.”
“You sounded so sad. I couldn’t let you think it was really over. I was an asshole to say it was.”
“I was an asshole to say everything I said.”
“Shh…” His lips are tender on mine before they sweep over my eyelids. When he cradles me against his chest, I breathe in the familiar scent of him and sigh.
“I hope I didn’t just give you my cold,” he murmurs against my hair.
“I don’t care.” I burrow deeper into his arms. “I don’t care. I deserve your cold. I’m sorry, baby.”
He wraps my hair around his fist and tugs it back. “Hey, none of that,” he says gently, nuzzling my face. It feels so good to touch him again that I press my body fully against his, loving the way he responds to my proximity. His lips cover mine again and he kisses me slowly until my legs are weak and my stomach is aflutter.
He pulls back and gazes at me for a moment before letting go of my hair and smoothing it down my back. Clearing his throat, he says, “Hold that thought. I’m going to go peek in on the kids. I’ll be right back.”
I’m still reeling when he slips out the door. I can’t believe he’s come all this way to make things better between us. But I realize something that never occurred to me before.
Grady is atoning.
Every time he he’s patient when I’m flying off the handle, every time he works to make things right when I’m still spinning in what should be, he’s trying to make up for the past he knows I still hold against him.
And, God help me, I
do
hold it against him. I’ve tried a million times to just let it all go, and I’ve released some of it, but there is still a festering wound inside me with his name on it. Grady knows that, and he believes he can heal it.
When he eases himself back through the door, the tension in his shoulders is gone. Having his family under one roof relaxes him so visibly that my eyes fill with tears. How did I never notice this? Have I had my head so far up my own ass that I failed to see that all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, is us together again?
He strides to where I’m standing at the foot of the bed and wordlessly strips me of my t-shirt. I’m naked underneath, and his mouth hovers over my breast as his hands hook inside the waistband of my pajama pants. When my pants are around my ankles he sheds his own clothes hastily and I slide my hands over each newly exposed expanse of flesh, greedy for the feel of him under my fingers.
We crawl into bed, and he nestles right between my thighs, pulling the duvet over our heads so we’re in our own private cave.
“Don’t say you’re done ever again,” I plead, and he kisses my fingertips.
“I won’t,” he vows. “I shouldn’t have said it at all.”
“You scared me this weekend.”
“You scare me all the time,” he admits, and there’s no blame in his voice, only honesty. “Just when I think—”
But I grip him hard, already tired of talking, needing something more tangible than words. He gasps happily as I position him at my slick entrance, eager for connection, and he pushes inside me with a groan of stark relief. Everything melts away, as it always does, when we’re together like this. I cradle his shoulders with my arms, wrap my calves around his hips, and moan contentedly as he rocks into me slowly, one hand in my hair and the other bracing against the mattress. He kisses away my soft cries of pleasure, whispering against my mouth, “Don’t keep running away from me, baby. Let me back inside you.”
In the dim light of our cave I look into his eyes and see that they’re glistening.
“You are inside me.”
“No.” He shakes his head and presses his lips to my chest. “Here,” he breathes against the skin over my heart. “Let me in here. Please, Cass.”
He rolls his hips so fluidly with mine that it feels like we can’t possibly be two separate people. And when I feel the wetness against my skin, it takes me a minute to realize that Grady’s crying. His tears are washing me clean, absolving me of my sins, baptizing me in his love. When his mouth connects with mine again I kiss the salt from his lips and whisper that I love him, that I need him, that I can’t live without him ever again. He makes love to me for what seems like hours, sometimes tender, sometimes rough. I come and come again and he rocks me through it every time but never stops. Finally he lets go, and this time his release is my rebirth.
Grady
“Grady…”
Her whisper stirs me in the darkness.
“Grady, my love…”
I reach for her and she slides against me, all silky hair and satin limbs. Lush, warm curves fill my hands as she whispers my name against my lips. Sweet, so sweet, twining around me, moving with me.
I can’t be dreaming. I can feel her weight as she drapes herself over me. A curtain of her hair falls around my face, enveloping me with her scent. I don’t want to open my eyes and find an empty room. I can’t bear to feel her slip from my hands, so I squeeze, hard, but all I feel is her sweet, yielding flesh. She fits me inside her slick heat and her soft sighs echo in my ears as I bury myself deeper, losing myself in her.
Before long she’s whimpering, shuddering, her body tensing with impending pleasure, and I can’t hold back. I don’t want this moment to ever stop. She cries out, and her moans of pleasure are music to my ears. I dare to open my eyes, and there’s my Cassie, exactly where I’ve always wanted her. In my arms, lost in ecstasy. I draw her face down to mine and kiss her through the last bit of her climax. She whimpers and sucks my tongue and it sends me over the edge. My release is instant and violent.
“That was kind of noisy,” she frets a few minutes later, when we’re cuddled together under the duvet.
“The best kind of noisy,” I tease her. “Baby, I hate to break it to you, but everyone in this house already knows we have sex. If anything they just know now not to bother us in the morning.”
The soft melody of her giggle stirs me in some unreachable place. Something sweeter than pain makes my chest ache. And as if my body is telegraphing hers, she rests her chin on my shoulder and murmurs, “I love you far too much to ever be without you again. I know I’m saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot, but I know what just happened was about me being angry with myself. And I’m going to work on that, really hard, because I never—” her voice breaks and her lips quivers, just slightly. “I never want to see that look in your eyes ever again. I never want to hurt you like that again.”
“I shouldn’t have walked out like that,” I insist, and then she lays it on me. How she came over and got worried when she saw the house all closed up. How she discovered the bottles in the recycle bin, panicked, and just grabbed the kids and left.
“I hate that my mind went there so easily,” she says sadly. “I didn’t even give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“But how could you think anything other than what you thought?”
She’s taken aback by my answer. “What?”
“Cass, I can’t change the past. And what actually happened sounds crazy. If anyone told me that they passed out for two days from a cold while their recycle bin was overflowing with empties, I’m not sure I’d believe them, either. Especially not if they had a history of heavy drinking.”
She’s quiet for a long, long, time, and then she says, “I think you’re wrong. I think I should have gone into to the house and faced it for myself. Even if you were passed out drunk on the floor in your own vomit, I should’ve faced it, not run away without even knowing. I run too much, Grady. I know I do.” She sighs. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“Hey.” I tilt her face up to mine. “This is us, together. Not just you. We’re getting there. I think we can stop beating ourselves and each other up about shit we did when we were twenty-three years old. Yeah?”
Cassie's eyes are trusting and happy when she whispers, “Yes, baby.” Her fingers glide up my body, threading through the hair on my chest. “Hungry yet?”
“Not just yet.” I pin her to the mattress and spend a bit more time waking her up.