Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series) (22 page)

I tilted my
head and looked into his eyes. I could see he meant no pressure,
but at the same time, I could see that he desperately hoped I would
want to try again.
Do I want to try again? Oh, God. I don’t
know. I don’t know if I can.

“We don’t have
to discuss this now. I just wanted you to know that, okay?”

I couldn’t
give him an answer, not yet anyway. I nodded and cuddled into him
again.

He positioned
me against the wall, where I held onto the arm supports. “Okay, my
love, let’s get you clean.”

I think I fell
in love with him all over again as I watched him wash me slowly,
kissing me and telling me how much he loved me and could not live
without me. I knew then that I would eventually try again. For him,
I would do anything.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

On the fifth
and final day in hospital, Bryce wheeled me down to the Garden of
Angels in a wheelchair so that we could scatter our baby’s ashes.
The garden was beautiful, with an array of different coloured
flowers and little handmade wooden signs with words of prayers and
love. It really was a magical place that was both sombre and
heart-warming at the same time.

The weather
was mild with a very calm breeze, perfect for what Bryce and I were
about to do. We knew we had to do it, but allowing our baby to
become an angel in this little garden kind of made the whole
miscarriage final, and that was incredibly difficult to accept. I
knew I had to accept it though, so I took in a deep breath while
trying to still my hands which were shaking uncontrollably as they
gripped and tipped the small urn. As I tipped, the breeze picked up
slightly, carrying the ashes across the garden. I matched the
whisper of the breeze with a whisper of my own. “You will be
forever in our hearts, little angel. You will always be remembered,
cherished, treasured and missed. We love you.”

Tears fell
down my cheeks as Bryce and I watched our precious baby’s ashes
magically flow through the air, once again becoming a part of
life—a part of nature. It was terribly hard to do, but at the same
time it gave me a sense of calm, knowing that so many other little
spirits were surrounding us, helping us, and welcoming our precious
one into their midst.

***

After saying
goodbye to Baby Clark, I was handed a small envelope by a nurse.
She explained that when I was ready—and only if I wanted to open
it—that it contained a picture of my baby and the details of his or
her gender. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I handed it to
Bryce then was discharged and allowed to go home.

We pulled into
the basement carpark in the Cadillac ATS Coupe. I knew straight
away why he chose the Caddy, because it was probably the most
comfortable of all his cars, and it definitely had the most leg
room.

Quickly
climbing out of his side of the car, he made his way to my door,
opened it and helped me twist around. Then, without any hesitation,
he placed one arm behind me and the other under my legs, lifting me
up.

“Bryce, I have
crutches,” I said, half rolling my eyes and half smiling.

“I know, but I
have arms and I enjoy it when you’re in them.”

“I need to get
used to the crutches, you know.”

“Hunny, I’m
carrying you. You’ve got six weeks to get used to those
crutches.”

I groaned.
“Don’t remind me.”

I decided
arguing with him at that particular moment was not going to benefit
me. Clearly I was not going to win, so I rested my head on his
shoulder and watched him close the car door with his foot and head
for the elevator.

***

When the doors
to the apartment opened and we entered, I felt a strange
disconcerting feeling upon looking at the stairs. I couldn’t
explain it. It just made me feel ill, to the point where I felt
they were evil, which was incredibly stupid. First of all, stairs
are not evil; Freddie Kruger is evil, and so is that hunter that
killed Bambi’s mum. Secondly, I fell down them; they didn’t
secretly trip me up.

After staring
at the stairs for several seconds, another flashback entered my
head. Again, in my recall, I hopped along the walkway that led to
the top of stairs, bending down and putting my heels on as I
stepped. I recalled stopping, bracing the railing, and wiggling my
foot into my shoe, making sure it was perfectly secure. I recalled
smiling and looking out over the lounge area in search of Bryce. I
recalled taking my first step without a problem. I recalled taking
my second step, again without any difficulties. The third step
however, I was falling forward—fast—but not tripping. I definitely
did not trip.

Bryce’s voice
broke through my recall. “Alexis, are you with me? What is it?”

“Um...sorry,
did you say something?” I stuttered, coming back to the present
time.

“Yes, I asked
where you wanted me to take you. Are you okay? You look a little
pale.”

“I just
remembered something. I didn’t trip, Bryce. I know I didn’t trip.
My shoes were on just fine. I must’ve had some kind of imbalance or
something, but I know I didn’t trip.” I was speaking fast,
desperate to voice what I had just visualised.

“It’s okay,
Hunny. Like you said, maybe you had a moment of imbalance. Either
way, it still wasn’t your fault. Stop torturing yourself, you can’t
change it.”

I nodded at
him then looked back at the stairs, not wanting to go near them.
“Please don’t carry me up them.”

“I wasn’t
going to,” he said softly as he kissed my head. “Where do you want
go, though?”

“I don’t know.
I might just stay where I am,” I raised my eyebrow at him.

“Suits me just
fine.”
Of course it does. I wouldn’t put it past you actually
carrying me all day.

“No, I’m
kidding. Anyway, what are your plans for today? Do you have to
work?”

“No, I’m all
yours. Arthur has taken on more responsibility, so don’t worry
about my work. Whatever you want or need, I’m here for you. I’m at
your beck and call.”

He remained
standing there, holding me in his arms waiting for my
instructions.

“Oh...” I
said, bemused.
I really shouldn’t be bemused. This is Mr.
Perfect-Loving-Caring Clark we are talking about.
“Well then,
in that case take me wherever you want to take me. I’m basically as
useless as tits on a bull at the moment.”

He raised his
eyebrow. I didn’t think he meant to do it seductively. He was kind
of being a perfect gentleman. The thing was, this man could not
raise an eyebrow without it being seductive.

“I doubt that
is true, Alexis. I can think of many things we can do without the
use of your leg.”
Okay, he definitely meant it
seductively.

“I’m sure you
can, but don’t forget, I can’t have sex—”

He laughed. “I
haven’t forgotten, and no...I wasn’t insinuating that.”

“Oh. Well what
did you have in mind?”

His
mischievous, almost child-like grin appeared, and he carried me
into the man-cave, placing me gently onto the sofa.

I grabbed his
face. “You are not going to carry me around everywhere.”

“You do not
have a choice if I choose to leave your crutches in the car.” He
stood back up and winked at me before heading for the door.

“Bryce, what
if I need to pee...or even worse?”

He didn’t look
back, just laughed. “I’ll carry you,” he asserted.

“Bryce, you
can’t—”

He exited the
room.
Grrr, talk about taking advantage of my inability to
walk.

I shuffled
uncomfortably on the couch, feeling the effects of my pain killers
wearing off. I quickly calculated when I could take some more.
Two, four, six hours...now. Good!

I pulled out
my phone and sent Bryce a text:

Seeing as u wish 2 b
my immobility-bitch,

Can u please bring me
some water & painkillers ♥ - Alexis

I received a
reply straight away:

Did u just call me a
bitch? - Bryce

I giggled.
Shit!

Yes...yes I did. I
kinda like the sound of it, don’t u? - Alexis

No. U do realise u r
going 2 have 2 pay 4 that. - Bryce

Pfft, what’s
he gonna do?

Oooh, what r u going 2
do about it? Break my leg?

Ok, bad joke.
Really bad joke, Alexis.
Never mind. I take it back. -
Alexis

I quickly sent
another text:

P.S. I take back the
break leg bit, not the bitch bit.

You’re still my bitch.
- Alexis

I typed
another, I was now in apology-mode.

P.P.S. I love u by the
way. - Alexis.

I waited for a
response. I didn’t get one, so I typed again:

Bryce? I’m only
kidding. You’re not a bitch, I am. - Alexis

I still hadn’t
received a reply minutes later, and after agonisingly waiting yet
another minute, I got concerned. I was just about to roll off the
sofa and perform some kind of caterpillar manoeuvre in order to go
find him—becoming some form of wiggly looper—when a single rose was
placed over my head in front of my face. I clasped it as his warm
breath caressed my ear.

“One, you’re
not a bitch. Two, I love you, too. And three, yes...you will pay
for that.”

He gently
nipped at my ear lobe then kissed my neck.

I shivered
with delight. “I look forward to ‘paying’, Bryce, but that is going
to have to wait for a few weeks.”

He walked
around to the front of the sofa and put down a tray which contained
a hot white chocolate, an espresso, two muffins, some Tim-Tams and
a bowl of popcorn. He turned to me and got down on his knees so
that his face was level with my own.

“Let me tell
you something. When you are ready to make love to me again, you
will not be ‘paying’ for anything. I will be the one ‘paying’,
paying a considerable amount of attention to making you come in
every possible way.”

I swallowed
dryly as I processed his words. In the hospital, I’d had a moment
of concern of whether or not I’d be able to have sex again so soon
after miscarrying, for fear of... well... just in fear. But sitting
on the sofa at that very moment, looking at Bryce with eyes full of
nothing but want, need, love, and worship, I knew that when the
time came, I would not hesitate in making love to him again. How
could I? Fuck, I wanted to now.

“How do you
plan on making me pay then?” I whispered, as I leaned forward and
kissed his lips.

He chuckled
and broke free, walking over to the stone fireplace to switch it
on.

“Well?” I
asked again.

He didn’t
answer, just made his way to the Blu-ray player and popped in a
disc. I watched him smile as he sat down on the sofa next to me,
then he gently took hold of my perfectly good foot and began to
massage it.

“Nooo,” I
giggled and cringed.

“Yes! We are
sitting here and watching
The Lord of the Rings
, and you, my
love, are going to have a foot rub.”

“I hate you,”
I said, like I always did.

He looked over
at me, and I sensed a slight bit of doubt on his face. I motioned
my finger, telling him to come closer to me. He obliged and leaned
in further so that our lips could touch.

“No, I don’t,”
I whispered against his mouth before I kissed him.

***

Bryce and I
watched
LOTR:
The Fellowship of the Rings
before he
carried me to the kitchen to watch him cook a kick-arse Beef
Stroganoff. It amazed me. He didn’t even put paprika in it and yet
it still teased my taste buds with its tasty awesomeness. What also
amazed me was that I watched him cook the damn dish and it was so
easy, yet it tasted heavenly.

I swore he
added a secret ingredient.

He swore he
didn’t.

I swore he was
lying.

He swore that
I was going to ‘pay’ again.

I swore I’d
kick him with my cast.

He swore I
wouldn’t.

I just
swore.

***

After dinner,
we watched
LOTR: The Two Towers
. I must’ve fallen asleep
across Bryce’s lap, because the last thing my brain processed was
the people of Rohan fleeing to Helm’s Deep.

The next thing
my brain processed was being laid down in our bed.

“Shit, I fell
asleep, sorry,” I said, feeling a bit groggy as I woke up.

“We are now
even,” he assured me.

‘Yes, we are.”
I smiled, remembering when he fell asleep while we were watching
Lady and the Tramp
during our trip to Uluru.

I felt his
hands settle on the top of my waistband then, gently, he pulled
down the loose yoga pants I was wearing, being extra careful when
sliding them over my cast.

His eyes
travelled up my legs to my underwear, which were still feminine and
pretty. Broken leg, head concussion, heartbreaking miscarriage and
subsequent bleeding—I still insisted on having nice underwear. This
habit of mine could never be broken. I’d rather wear nothing than
wear ‘Nanna-Knickers’.

I could tell
Bryce, too, appreciated this habit of mine, because his sight
lingered on the navy satin lace brief I was wearing.

Propping
myself up on my arms, I watched him crawl up the bed to me, helping
me sit up so that he could remove my t-shirt and expose my matching
bra. I leaned back on my hands and smiled as he took me in.

“You might
want to look away, Mr. Clark. Because that look on your face
normally means one thing. And that one thing is not going to happen
tonight.”

“Hunny, there
are other things that can happen, starting with this.” He grabbed
my face and kissed me softly, yet passionately, causing my arms
which were supporting the upper part of my body to go weak; shake;
and slowly collapse, lowering me to the bed.

His lips
stayed attached to mine as I lay flat on my back, Bryce now laying
by my side. I held him to me as his tongue gently brushed against
mine, caressing it delicately over and over as he dragged his
knuckle down the side of my cheek to under my chin.