Love After Marriage (Forever After #2) (10 page)

Damn it!
She was the one who had left me. The least she could’ve done was called me to tell me she was fine or to say goodnight.

My eyes narrowed at the only light illuminating our massive master bedroom. It was coming from the skyscrapers outside. I gritted my teeth, but my pride lost out as I dialed Beth's number.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey." Her tone was soft, angelic. The muscles in my chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe.

My eyes fell shut as I pictured her in pajamas, bare-faced yet beautiful.

"I couldn't sleep." Her sweet tone echoed through the receiver, and the pang in the center of my chest intensified.

My voice was barely audible. "Yeah, me either."

Silence ensued as I listened to her soft breathing.

"I miss you," she said gently.

I clenched my jaw and pinched the bridge of my nose. I wanted to yell, "Why did you leave then?" Stubbornly, I wanted to command her to come back…but that would have gotten us nowhere. My damn mouth was always getting me into trouble. Still, I could only do honesty.

"I miss you, too." I pushed my restless legs to the edge of the bed. As I sat in the corner and stared into the darkness, I let out a long, jagged breath. "What I said...about you leaving and all that nonsense about breaking up." I shook my head. "I didn't mean it."

"Okay." Her voice quivered with emotion.

"I say things sometimes that I don't mean when I'm worked up."

"Yeah... I know."

More silence spanned the distance between us, and I couldn't handle it anymore. "When you're done thinking...I want you to come home." I spoke in a broken whisper. "I mean, come home to me...okay?"

"Kent, this time was meant for you, too. You need to process how our lives are about to change without all the fighting between us."

I nodded though she couldn't see. "Yeah, I know." More silence. "Soon, okay, baby? Come home to me soon."

I heard a strangled sob through the phone. "Okay."

"I...I love you." I held my breath, waiting for her to say the words I needed to hear to shorten this distance between us.

"I love you, too."

Everything in me sagged with relief, and then I hung up the phone and stared into her beautiful picture on my cell for far too long. When almost an hour ticked by, I pulled the covers from the bed and headed to the living room.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep in our bed without her in it, so I plopped on the couch and blasted the television on high, drowning out the noise in my head.

* * *

T
wo days
. Exactly forty-eight hours, thirty-two minutes, and fifty-three seconds ago, she had left me. To sort things out. Part of me wondered what things she had to sort out. All of me was scared to find out.

Brown Eyed Girl filled my ears as I sat back at the bar. The tall brunette could really belt it out as her fingers played the keys on the piano. You’d think the sweet melodies would calm the Armageddon inside of me, but it only reminded me of how much I missed my wife. I sat on the stool, staring blankly at the black marble bar in front of me. Night two was proving to be worse than night one. Because it was the weekend and we didn't have work, I hadn't seen or spoken to Beth the whole day.

I gripped the cold glass of whisky in my hand. I didn't know how many I'd had. I didn't even know what number drink this was. All I knew was maybe, just maybe, if I was butt ass drunk out of my mind, it would numb the pain.

Hell, couldn't have been worse than this. There was no way.

I rubbed my chest, feeling this endless pang that wouldn't go away. All because she’d left me.

Fuck!

I downed the drink and hit the counter with my glass ready for another round. The female bartender eyed me. Her judgmental eyes watched me, but she kept pouring. If I kept paying and tipping, she’d keep pouring.

Every passing minute, it got harder to not call her. I was coming up on the twenty-four hour mark since I'd last heard her voice. We'd never gone this long without speaking. Even when I was on a business trip, we’d talk or text or email every couple of hours.

From the corner of my eye, I saw another woman strolling my way. I groaned. I just wanted to be left alone to sulk in my misery, or to drink myself to oblivion, or until the liquor numbed the pain—whichever came first.

You'd think the glint of my platinum ring would keep them away, but it didn't. It was as if the ring was a flame and they were the moths. Three women had approached me this evening, and this would be the fourth. I thought maybe if I ignored them, they'd go away, but no. They just kept talking and talking and flirting, and all I wanted them to do was shut up. They thought their sexy tones turned me on? All I wanted to hear was one voice, one sweet voice, but that wasn't going to happen.

”Hey," the brunette said, plopping down next to me.

I examined the caramel-colored liquor in my glass, not lifting my eyes from my drink.

"Do you need a refill?" She angled closer.

I didn't answer. Maybe she'd get the hint. Or maybe, better yet, if I started talking to myself, they'd think I was mental and leave me alone.

Shit. I felt like I'd been heading there anyway since Beth had left me.

I lifted the glass, downed my drink in one gulp, and slammed the glass on the bar, indicating I wanted another.

"That bad, huh?" the brunette said.

I motioned to the bartender, not making eye contact with the brunette.

She leaned in closer and, when I got a whiff of her expensive perfume—Channel No. 5—I gagged.

In my former life, this woman's perfume alone would’ve gotten me hard. I'd take her to the bathroom and screw her brains out. Shit, I'd take her and some of her friends back to my place to have a little party of our own. That was my former life.

Now, the brunette's expensive perfume only made me nauseous. All I craved was the smell of apples and scent of fresh sunshine. I wanted Beth.

My back hurt from sleeping on the couch last night, but her scent permeated our bedroom and I couldn't take it. Maybe if I'd never met Beth, I'd be doing the same thing every night with a different girl. Now, I doubted I could even get it up for anyone else.

Beth had gone from being my world to screwing me for eternity by leaving me.

In the next second, I pushed the empty glass away from me and stood. Enough of this shit. I didn't care that I was piss ass drunk. I'd done enough thinking, and I'd given her the time she needed.

I threw cash on the table and wobbled out of the bar. I was ready to claim my wife and take her home.

B
eth
:

The doorbell buzzed, waking me from my deep slumber. I reached to the ceiling in the most satisfying stretch and released a noise that sounded like an animal dying. I hadn't gotten much sleep last night with everything running through my mind, but tonight, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I knocked out as though someone had taken a baseball club and hit me on the head. I knew it had been the baby catching up on some shut-eye and draining all my energy. I rubbed my eyes with both palms and stood when the buzzing would not relent. I was curious at what all the commotion was about.

His deep voice caused me to push my feet through my slippers and rush to the living room, waking me like a cold pail of water.

"Are you crazy, Kent? It's almost one in the morning!" Caroline's scolding voice boomed from the entry, her face screaming annoyance.

Jeff was standing behind her as she pointed a finger at Kent. A picture of her same stance fifteen years from now flashed in my head, only her object of aggression would be directed toward Chase, not Kent. "She'll call you when she's ready. Have you been drinking?" She rolled her eyes. "Really?”

I moved into his line of sight and staggered to a stop. A rush of emotions bombarded me, the kind of emotion that ushered my feet forward like a line being pulled in by a fisherman. Just seeing him, when I hadn't seen him in over two days, had my hormones on high alert. I wanted to cry and jump his bones, all at the same time. It took all my energy to keep it together in front of him and pretend that I wasn't dying without him, even though my insides were crumbling.

He swayed toward me, but Caroline blocked his view.

Their two-bedroom apartment in the middle of downtown Chicago was small. I could see the living room, bathroom and kitchen from where I stood. Just a few steps forward and I’d be in his arms.

"We need to talk." Kent's tone begged to be heard.

"She doesn't want to talk to you!" Caroline crossed her arms over her chest, unmoving. My own personal body guard was not playing around.

"Caroline," Jeff pleaded with his wife and pulled at her arms. "Come on."

"Beth..." The way Kent uttered my name said it all. It was the longing in his voice and the pleading in his eyes that cracked my facade. He staggered to the left, his fingers stretched toward me, but Caroline matched his step, her jaw set.

"I don't think so, buddy."

He peered over her, his eyes were glossed over in his drunken state. "Please..." Kent's voice cracked with emotion, cutting through my tough girl skin.

Though I wanted to meet him halfway, my hands wrapped around my middle to keep myself together and protect the baby inside of me. But I knew we needed to talk.

Our issues were between the two of us, and even though I knew Caroline just wanted to protect me, I didn't want our problems to affect Kent’s and her relationship. "It's okay, Caroline."

She studied my face before Jeff tugged at her arms, forcing her to budge. My lips pursed together as I nodded and mouthed, "I'll be okay."

Her eyes darted between us before she rested on Kent's face. "Fine, but you know where to find us." She gave Kent the evil eye before letting her husband lead her into their bedroom.

When their bedroom door shut, Kent didn't waste any time, rushing toward me. "You're coming home," he breathed. It wasn't a question; it was a pleading command.

I reeled back from the stank of liquor heavy on his lips. He'd been drinking. Again. The way his eyes glossed over told me how much.

"You're drunk. Is this going to be a consistent habit every time we fight? Where have you been?"

"Out." He tugged on my hand. "I'm not taking any more of this nonsense. We'll settle all of this at home." His stance turned authoritative and that armor that I'd built was back up again.

"Did you drive here?" I retracted my hand. I hoped his stupidity level hadn’t jumped a notch higher and he hadn’t driven here drunk.

"Of course not. So I can have you more pissed than you are already at me? Pack your stuff." He swayed as he stepped toward me. "We'll discuss this at home." He pulled at my waist as he stumbled against me, and my arms flew out to keep him steady.

"I don't think you're in any position to talk about anything." My eyes protruded, my body tensing. "You’re not even going to remember what we talked about in the morning.”

"I'll help you pack your stuff," he mumbled.

I dug my fingertips into his arm. "No, Kent. Don't start things up right now. If you wake up Chase, it's over."

He straightened and his jaw locked. He stood a whole head taller than me. "You're coming home." There it was, the direct command that had my body tensing.

I guess in his drunken state, he'd become a broken record.

I answered him with defiance, throwing it right back. "No, Kent. I'm not."

We stared at each other in silence.

Forever silence.

Unblinking.

I didn't know who would give in first.

My noisy breaths were the only sounds. I knew he was stubborn, but I hadn’t realized I had pride enough for the both of us.

After a beat, his face crumbled as he dropped to his knees and wrapped his hands around my waist, surprising me. His forehead pressed against my stomach, and I held my breath.

"Baby, please don't fight me." His voice was barely above a whisper, and it weakened my resolve, melting my insides. "I-I can't do this anymore. I'm fucking dying." He sounded like a man defeated, a boxer laying down his gloves.

I couldn't take it anymore. I choked back tears as my fingers ran through his hair. "What's happening to us?" I asked him the question I’d been too afraid to ask because I was afraid to face the truth. I wished I could blink us back to a couple of months ago, when we’d been happily in love and our mere problems were a messy house or what to eat for dinner.

He squeezed me against him and answered with pure honesty. "I don't know."

His hands fisted the back of my shirt as he tapped his forehead lightly against my stomach. Tremors took over his body. "Don't leave me, baby. Don't...leave me. I won't survive it." Slow breaths escaped him. Liquor made people more vulnerable, and that was evident tonight. There were only a few times that he had let me see this unshielded part of him, and it was taking a toll on my emotions.

I unlatched his hands and lifted him up. His shoulders sagged as his eyes met mine, and I read such torment in the span of his chestnut brown peering down at me.

He cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing the side of my cheek. "For better or worse," he choked out. "You promised me. For better or worse."

I nodded and fisted the back of his shirt, bringing him closer. I wished the worse would end, because it seemed forever since we'd had the better.

His eyes glazed over as he croaked out, "Please come home with me."

I nodded, swallowing back tears. "Let’s wait until the morning. Sleep this off, and I'll come home."

His arms encased my lower back, flushing me against him as his head dipped to the crook of my neck and we held each other in silence. He breathed me in, all of me, and rested his weight against me as though he'd fall if I let him go.

It was the first time I felt steady in what seemed liked forever. And it was then I realized it was only in his arms where I felt complete.

* * *

T
he next morning
Kent shuffled my suitcase into our condo. His sunglasses were sitting on his face, blocking any light from his eyes. He'd mostly been quiet as we drove home, and I sensed it was because he had a major hangover. Or maybe he was avoiding the big elephant in the room—the baby.

He staggered into our bedroom with my belongings, opened my suitcase, and pulled out my toiletry bag. "Where do you want me to put this?" This was his way of trying to make things better between us. From his breakdown yesterday, I knew he wanted to work on our relationship, but how did I bridge the gap between our past and our future with the baby.

"I'll take care of it."

When he bent down to unpack my belongings, I stepped toward him. "I can do that, Kent."

With both hands on his hips, he glanced down at my open suitcase. His eyebrows knitted together as though he was in deep thought. After an audible exhale, he replied, "Okay."

"I know you had a long night, and if you want to rest or nap, I can get dinner ready later." I was offering the white flag in surrender because, before we could have a serious conversation about our future, he needed things to be good between the two of us.

He pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head. Deep dark circles clung to his eyes. "I just need to shower and I'll be fine. I'll cook dinner."

"No, Kent, you don't look well."

He shook his head. "If I don't look well, it's my fault. You're the one who needs rest. I'm not the one..." His sight dropped to my belly. "That's pregnant."

I stiffened and swallowed. He must’ve noticed, because his features softened a moment later. "I just want you to rest, alright? We both have work tomorrow and have a lot of things to talk about before then."

He reached for my hand and pulled me into a warm embrace. I reveled in the comfort of his hold, realizing how much I'd missed him. Married people were truly one unit because the last couple of days, I hadn’t felt whole without him. It was like I was functioning on life with a half tank of gas—I was incomplete.

I nestled into his liquor-filled shirt. He reeked, but I didn't care. The tranquility of his hold dimmed the chaos in my head.

"I want whatever you want." His warm breath brushed against my forehead. "I want you with me." He brushed his lips against my skin. "And whatever you want, that makes you happy. I want you to be happy."

I rested my chin on his chest to meet his eyes. "Babe, that's the thing. I want you to want this, too. For yourself, not just for me." I reached for his hand and placed it on my stomach, feeling wholly content as he held our baby. "And to want the baby for the both of us."

He nodded. "It's crazy. I can't grasp the idea. Maybe ‘cause she isn't here yet, so I can't picture it."

"She?" I smiled. "Have you already decided it's a girl? I don't think that can be determined for another couple of months.” Though inside I secretly wished for a little princess for Kent to fawn over.

He shook his head, his eyes filling with wonder. "She's like this inanimate object I can't touch, but when I close my eyes and picture her, she's a little version of you." His eyebrows pulled together as his stare became distant. "I mess up a lot, Beth."

I blinked. "What do you mean?" Had he done something else that I wasn’t aware of?

He tore his gaze from mine and stared above me, his eyes unfocused. "When I said, I don't think I can do this...what I really meant was that I have no clue what I'm doing here." He paused and blew out a breath.

I intertwined our fingers to give him courage to get it all out.

"Baby, I mess up a lot, and I can't afford to mess up something this big." He let out a long, jagged sigh. "To be responsible for another human being..." His voice trailed off. "I just don't know...I don't know the first thing about raising a child. I don't know if I'm capable."

I pulled back and searched his face. I had thought all along that Kent didn't want to give up his selfish ways, and one of his main motivators about being anti-children was because he didn't want to share me. But all along, he’d been insecure about being a father.

My heart swelled as I tiptoed, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him to silence his nonsense. "No more talk about being incapable. Kent Plack, you're capable of a lot of things you don't give yourself credit for. And don’t you think I’m equally afraid?”

“You?” He scoffed. “You’re perfection personified. I don’t think there is anything you can’t do.”

I stepped back and shook my head as my own fears threatened to choke me. “You had the best childhood with parents that adored you. I don’t even know my father, and my mother...” My vision blurred while memories of my childhood and all the disappointment my mother had caused pushed to the surface. “I’m just thankful I turned out semi-normal, and that I’m nothing like her. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that I’m going to try my damn best.”

He reached for my hand and squeezed. “You’re going to be the best mother, I already know.”

His words gave me courage and hope and redemption. I smiled up at him. "And you'll be a wonderful father. At the end of the day, all this child needs is love and we have tons of that."

“That we do.” He smiled with relief. "And that's also what my mom said."

"Of course she did." I angled closer. "I don't know the first thing about parenthood, and yes," I admitted, "I'm scared to death, but we'll do this together. That'll be the joy of it all."

He nodded and the tenseness in his eyes relaxed. He brushed his nose against mine in the most intimate gesture. "I'm going to take your lead on this one."

My smile was so wide, it hurt my cheeks. "Yes, you will."

I lifted my chin and, when he met my lips, fireworks boomed in my belly and my whole body tingled. It’d been so long. I tiptoed and brought him closer, kissing him hard until our breathing was labored. Then his hands dropped to my ass, and he pushed me against his hardness, making my nipples pebble against my shirt.