Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (44 page)

“I’m yours?” she whispers, silent tears falling from her eyes.

“Like you mean it, sweetheart.”

“I’m—I’m yours.”

“You’re mine,” I repeat before softly pressing my lips to hers.

She frees a soft whimper, cupping her hands around my face as she returns my affection. She doesn’t linger long, her tears returning. Only this time, as she succumbs to her cry, she buries her face in my neck and holds on tight.

J
udah stayed with me, holding me as I fell in and out of sleep through the night. It’s not at all the reaction that I expected, and thankful is only a fraction of how I feel toward him. Having him with me felt like a gift; like God was offering me comfort in the arms of a man—like He knew exactly what I needed, exactly
who
I needed, and He brought him to my doorstep when I was too afraid to ask him to come.

Jude left earlier this morning, informing me that he needed to take care of a few things, and that he would be back. He was only gone for five minutes before I started to miss him, but I needed this day alone. I called Harper and we talked for a while. She cried with me and insisted that she needed to come up, but I told her not to come. I know there’s nothing she can do, not really, and I just need time to process this new information.

I called my mom after I had a chance to gather myself again. That was definitely a hard conversation. My sex life has never really been something I’ve discussed with my mom—not since puberty, when she was doing her due-diligence as a parent. She knew that Justin and I broke up over the issue of sex, but I never told her that he’d managed to get inside of me.

A part of me thought about telling her that I was raped, that our sex was in no way consensual, but I just couldn’t. Even after all this time. Besides, the news I called to tell her was hard enough to admit. She, too, insisted that she needed to see me, but I told her that I wasn’t alone, that I would be okay, and that I’d make my way up for a visit in a couple weeks. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Estes Park to see my parents. It’s really not that far, and I should go more often, but my Civic, Agatha, doesn’t love the climb. In any case, I promised to visit soon.

Geoff calls in to check on me, giving me the opportunity to thank him for filling my prescription last night. He assures me that if I need anything, he’s just a phone call away. Then my phone goes silent. I spend the rest of the afternoon on the internet, researching and digging up everything I can find on chlamydia and pelvic inflammatory disease. I know that Monday morning, I’ll have to call Dr. Murphy’s office and make another appointment. From what I’ve read, I’ll be making a few trips back over the next three months or so.

I hate that this is my reality, but I know all I can do is seek treatment and move on with my life. It’s the
moving on
that’s the hardest part. I felt like I was getting to a point where I was really putting my past behind me as I let myself indulge in all I wanted with Judah. Now I feel like my past is in the spotlight. So much of my thoughts are filled with Justin, now. Any progress I’ve made over the years in forgiving him, it’s all gone. I
loathe
him, and acknowledging just how much makes my chest ache and my eyes tear up.

I cry off and on all day. I can’t help it. Then I make the decision to only allow myself to remain in this emotional state for a little while longer. In the morning, I need to go to church—I need to find my center—I need to find my
true
comfort and my
true
healing. God says, seek and you shall find, and I definitely need to find Him in a whole new way.

When a knock sounds at my door, I wipe my cheeks dry as I go to answer. I know my face is probably all splotchy, but at least I can say I showered earlier. I put on a new pair of sweatpants and a lightweight hoodie, piling my hair up on the top of my head in a messy bun.

My heart skips a beat when I open the door and find Judah on the other side. In spite of the cool evening this first bit of September has brought with it, he’s wearing a pair of black gym shorts and a snug-fitting, grey t-shirt. It almost makes me smile, finally seeing how his t-shirts are
supposed
to be worn. I also notice that he’s got a leather duffle slung over one of his shoulders and a grocery bag in his hand.

“I figured we’d be laying low tonight,” he informs me, gently taking hold of my chin with his freehand. “I came prepared.” Before I can ask what that means, he’s kissing me.

As soon as his lips are pressed against mine, nothing else matters. His affection chases away any and all doubt that my condition will ruin what we’ve been building over the last couple of months, and his presence reminds me just how much he cares for me. I need everything he’s giving me right now, and I don’t pull away from him until he severs our kiss.

“Dinner should be here any moment. I ordered pizza.”

I tilt my head as I stare up at him curiously. “You eat pizza?”

“Who
doesn’t?
”

“Um—who doesn’t own
jeans?
”

“Smart ass,” he says with a smirk. “Keep it up and I won’t share my ice cream with you.”

“You brought ice cream?”

He hands me the grocery bag in his hand just as we hear someone ascending the stairs. When Jude sets his duffle down, digging for his wallet in his pocket, I guess that our pizza has arrived. I leave him to pay, heading for the kitchen to stow away the ice cream. I see that he’s brought cookies and cream and coffee flavors. In the bag, I also find a brand new, unopened DVD of
Fight Club
. My heart melts and my eyes well up with tears as I hug it to my chest.

I know that it’s silly of me to cry, but it means so much to me that he’s here. I feel like such a mess right now, my head and my heart going through so much; and instead of running away from me, he’s bringing me junk food and movies.

“I hope you like a little bit of everything because that’s what I got,” he announces, making his way into the kitchen. I’m quick to wipe my cheeks dry, but not quick enough. “What’s wrong?” he asks, setting down the pizza.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head.

Before I know what he’s doing, he grips his hands around my hips and lifts me up, sitting me down on the counter top, making us closer to eye level. He takes up the space between my legs before he repeats his question.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, willing myself not to cry, and then I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He returns my embrace, his big, warm hands resting at my sides making me feel safe and looked after. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.” I pull away from him so that I can look into his grey eyes. “I know that I’m not exactly
fun
to be around right now. I know that your plans for this weekend probably looked a lot different.” I sigh, feeling defeated and embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Teddy. Shit happens. I know. You don’t need to apologize about it. Are you hungry?” he asks, lifting the lid of the pizza box. The delicious smell fills my tiny kitchen and I offer him a nod before setting aside the movie and reaching behind me for a couple plates. “Let’s skip the plates,” he says, reaching around me to close the cabinet. I arch my brow at him, surprised by his desire to be so informal tonight. “I don’t want to do dishes, do you want to do dishes?” he asks, mirroring my expression by arching a brow of his own.

A small smile graces my lips as I shake my head
no.

“Ah, see? There she is,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb across my lips before leaning in to kiss me.

We spend the next twenty minutes eating pizza right out of the box and catching each other up on what happened during the day. When I’m stuffed, we move to the next room, stick in the movie, and settle on the couch. Knowing that Jude isn’t really the snuggle type, I try my best to be content sitting beside him—but then I explain to him that Harper doesn’t call me
Teddy Bear
for nothing, and he’s kind enough to let me enjoy the movie nestled in his arms.

My mind drifts in and out, my thoughts continuously wandering toward the possibility of my infertility. It’s the one thing about this whole situation that I’m most afraid of. I know my chances aren’t good—not after all this time. I feel like I talked about it a lot today, and I’m not sure if it upsets me because I wanted children or simply because being able to create them is something that might have been stolen from me.

My parents raised Harper and me to be women who chased after happiness, not some
ideal
that America tells us equals success. The husband, two kids and dog, with a house and white picket fence—that was never my dream. And after Justin—all I wanted was to be
me
again, and to be happy with the
me
that I was to become. It’s true that after some time, the idea of a man in my life
eventually
was something I wanted, but I never drew a very detailed picture of what that looked like. Now I feel as though my options are fewer, and by no choice of my own.

“You’re thinking hard about something.”

“What?” My eyes focus on the screen and I notice the movie is over before I turn to look up at Jude. “Oh, sorry. I zoned out.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Kids,” I admit. He only nods, and I spin my body around so that my legs are resting over the top of his as I lean into his side. “Why don’t you want kids?”

He shrugs, reaching up to run his fingers up and down the length of my neck. “I’m just not that guy.”

“What do you mean? How do you know?”

“It’s never something that appealed to me. I don’t particularly like children.”

“People say that all the time, but then they like their own kids.”

“You can’t test drive a child and take it back if you don’t like it. If I can’t know for sure whether or not I would like my own children until I have them, I’d rather not have them. It’s the child who suffers when you change your mind, or decide that you can’t do it. I would never do that to someone.”

I nod slowly, reaching up to pinch my lip between my fingers as I contemplate his reply. “Are you thinking about Ben?”

“Ben…myself, it happens to people all the time. I don’t know my father because he decided that I didn’t fit into his life. I’m self-aware enough to admit that I don’t think I want to be a father, and I’m not going to test that theory to see if I’m wrong.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, my mind busy absorbing all that he’s said. I’m surprised by his answer. Not because it doesn’t make sense, but because it’s actually more selfless than I anticipated. At every turn, this man reveals himself to be more and more amazing. He knows who he is and why, and I love that about him.

“You’re staying tonight, right?” I ask, hugging my arm around his chest.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, brushing his lips across my forehead. “But don’t get used to it. I don’t fit in that damn bed.”

I chuckle, thinking of the way his feet hang off the end. Geoff sleeps curled up on his side, so he doesn’t have the same problem.

“And don’t even get me started on that closet of a bathroom.”

“It’s Teddy-size,” I tease, my smile still lingering.

“Yeah, well, Teddy now has a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-ten pound plus one to consider.”

“Yes, I do,” I murmur, giving him a squeeze. “Speaking of plus ones…I’m going to go to church tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?”

“Mmm,” he rumbles. “That’s not really my thing.”

His answer comes as no surprise to me, so I don’t press. I mumble my understanding and try to get lost in the feel of his fingers on my neck.

“Why are you going?” he asks a moment later. “What’s the point?”

“What do you mean?” I shift so that I can see him, and he returns my gaze with his own.

“After what’s happened to you—why go?”

“God has been good to me.
Really
good to me. He loves me, and when I go to church—I don’t know—it’s just a reminder. Being in service, it’s like being in His presence, and I find great comfort in that.”

He furrows his brow, and I can tell he’s thinking over what I’ve just said. I’m about to ask him what’s going through his mind when he speaks. “How can you believe that this
God
is good when you’re sitting here trying to wrap your head around the reality that some dumb-fuck
raped
you, infected you, and probably robbed you of your chance to have children—regardless of whether or not you knew if that’s what you wanted? I mean, how can you believe that is
good?
”