If Forever Comes (14 page)

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Authors: A. L. Jackson

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: If Forever Comes
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Any discomfort this brought me was worth
it.

I will try
.

I would try for her.

“So what time do you want us over?” I
asked.

“Three sound good?”

“Sure.” Unsure would have been a better
description of what I was feeling, but I said it anyway. I took
Lizzie’s hand to start for the car. “We’ll see you Sunday,
then.”

“Oh, and Liz?”

I paused and looked over my
shoulder.

Logan’s gaze traveled my body before it landed
back on my face. “You look really nice today.”

Self-consciously, I glanced down at the jeans
and tee-shirt I wore, the first real clothes I’d worn to pick
Lizzie up in months. I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt as I felt
redness bloom on my face. “Uh…yeah…I guess I’ve looked a mess
lately.”

His laughter was full of tease, though it
rumbled with something more. “Believe me, Liz, no one can rock a
pair of scroungy sweats the way you can.”

Then he lifted his chin with a smile and
turned and led his daughter away.

Ruffled, I stood there watching them go. My
mind reeled as I tried to make sense of what had just transpired. I
placed an affectionate hand on Lizzie’s back. My voice was barely
audible over the blaring headache that struck up in my
head.

“We better get going.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Logan waved back over at me as he climbed into
his car.

I will try
.
For my daughter, I will
try.

 

 

Late May, Four Months
Earlier

 

A roar of catcalls and whistles filled Sarah’s
small living room. Black lace lay piled in the box I held on my
lap, one that had come from Natalie.

“Do they even make lingerie for pregnant
girls?” I asked through my grin as my attention sought her
out.

She leaned against the wall across the room.
Not for a second was I embarrassed. I was enjoying myself too
much.

“Um, you weren’t supposed to be six-months
pregnant on your wedding day, but yes, they most definitely do. I
just had to dig a little deeper,” Natalie hollered over the din of
the raucous room. Playfulness filled up the entirety of her smirk.
“And believe me, Christian is going to appreciate my
efforts.”

I pulled the nightie from the box and held it
up in front of me. It had to be the sexiest piece of lingerie, all
lace and garters and ribbon…and, well…not much else.

No, I didn’t think there’d be any issue with
calling Christian’s appreciation into question. The only problem
would be hiding it from him long enough to save it for our
honeymoon. If he found it before, he’d be begging me to wear
it.

Discretely I shook my head and bit at my lip.
Nothing sounded better than two weeks of just Christian and me,
long days and nights spent lost to each other, our hearts, minds,
and bodies wrapped up and consumed. Where, he wouldn’t tell me, but
his eyes had glimmered, a furor of excitement swimming through the
depths as he promised me it was somewhere I’d never been before,
but he couldn’t wait to take me there. It didn’t matter where he
took me. It’d be paradise simply because we were
together.

I folded it up and placed it back in the box.
“Well, I’ll tell him this is compliments of you.” I smirked right
back. Then I smiled. “Thank you, Nat. Honestly.”

I was thanking her for so much more than
simply her gift. She’d put in countless hours planning for this
wedding, taking her role as Matron of Honor seriously, almost to
the extreme. I was grateful for every second of it. It would never
have turned out so perfectly without the work she and my sisters
had put into it.

“You’re welcome.” Sincerity transformed her
face.

“Okay, next one,” Sarah said. She was perched
on the floor at my side, feeding me gifts just as quickly as I
could open them.

She set on my lap a small silver gift bag with
a beautiful mess of black and silver tissue paper sticking out the
top. I fumbled for the card.

Selina.

I slanted her a smile as I pulled out what was
nestled inside.

A plain white coffee mug. I rotated it a
little, unable to contain my grin as I found the personalization on
the front.

Mrs. Davison.

I turned it toward my guests. A round of
oohs
and
aahs
and
that is so sweet
rose up
over the room.

I couldn’t help but agree.

“I love this. Thank you, Selina.”

“You’re welcome.”

Really I couldn’t wait for that to become my
name. I was more than ready. The date had become like this beacon,
a signal for our future. Even though Christian and I had already
begun our lives together, it didn’t make the day any less
important.

“Here, open mine next.” Carrie came forward
and grabbed a white gift bag that overflowed with black tissue
paper. “Here.”

“Well, aren’t you in a hurry,” I teased as I
situated the bag on my lap. “You better not have gotten me
something that’s going to embarrass me,” I warned.

She scoffed. “Don’t act like such a prude.”
She inclined her head toward my stomach that poked out above my
fitted jeans. “Because not one of us in this room is going to
believe it.”

I swatted at her and laughed. “You’re
terrible.”

She just grinned. “Open it,” she prodded,
anxious.

I closed my eyes and reached into the bag,
expecting the worst. If anyone in this room would leave me
blushing, it was Carrie.

My fingers grazed across something firm and
covered in smooth fabric.

Frowning in question, I opened my eyes and
pulled out her gift.

I blinked up at my little sister. She’d always
been prone to selfishness, the youngest child, the center of
attention. That didn’t mean I didn’t love her with every ounce of
my being. But this…this was kind and thoughtful.

I ran my fingers over the handmade album
before I flipped it open to the first page. Pictures were glued to
the decorative paper, faded and worn, the colors bleeding away from
the youngest days of our youth. My sisters and I were in our
mother’s backyard. The three of us were in nothing but our
underwear, covered in mud, wearing the biggest smiles you’d ever
seen three children boast. In another, Christmas had come, and my
sisters and I were dressed in footed pajamas, our excitement
palpable as we hung our stockings on the mantel. A third was from
Easter, frilly pink dresses, a mess of fake, green grass, eggs
brimming over the top of our baskets.

The last was our beach.

Tears welled.

I couldn’t stop them.

Through glistening eyes, I looked up at my
little sister. “This is…perfect.”

I turned the pages through the years of our
lives, school pictures, plays, soccer games, and sleepovers. We
grew and haircuts and styles changed, a progression of time shared,
but through all of them was a projection of our joy.

Toward the back, I stood in the football field
after receiving my high school diploma, flanked by my mother and my
sisters. Our arms were wrapped around each other as we all leaned
toward the camera, the four of us grinning like we were preparing
to have the greatest tomorrow.

And on the last page of the album, I’d grown.
The lines of my face hinted at the woman I would become, though I
still wore the innocence of a girl. The picture had been snapped
just before I boarded a plane for the first time in my life. I
could almost see the wonder that had filled my eyes, the fear and
the anxiety all mixed up with the greatest kind of anticipation as
I’d set off for New York City.

I could almost feel it now, exactly the way
I’d felt then. I knew my life was about to change. I just never
imagined how much.

Just days after this picture was taken, I met
Christian.

On instinct, my hand sought out my stomach
where Lillie kicked me, her little foot jutting out at my
side.

Today I felt the same.

My life was about to change.

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this
means to me.”

Carrie leaned down and hugged me in a way she
never had before. “I just wanted you to see yourself through my
eyes…the way I see you. These are my memories of my big sister who
I looked up to my entire life. I’ll never stop,” she
promised.

The tears I’d been trying to hold in fell.
Sniffling, I wiped them with the back of my hand. “Love
you.”

Quietly, she spoke. “Love you,
too.”

“Okay, next one,” Sarah piped in, breaking up
the heaviness, all smiles as she searched the pile of
gifts.

She set a beautifully wrapped package on my
lap, silver paper with black and white ribbon. I opened the card. I
read the words written in delicate script inside.

 

My Dearest Elizabeth,

I find myself at a loss to express
my joy, my gratitude, and my love for you. They are bountiful.
Profuse. Unending.

The only thing a mother ever wants
is for her children to be happy. There are so many ways I believe I
failed my son, mistakes I made that I can never take back. But I
look at him now and see the way he loves you and Lizzie, the way he
loves this new baby, and I know I had to have done something
right.

And it’s you, Elizabeth, you who
brings this light out in him, you who makes him shine.

For this, I will be forever
grateful.

Never have I told anyone this, but
for all of my life, I longed for a little girl to call my own.
Christian may have been the only child I bore, but you are my
daughter.

I love you, and I wish you and
Christian a lifetime of happiness. Be good to each other and never
forget what is important in this world.

Yours,

Claire

 

My heart clenched. Shakily, my eyes found her
across the small room, where she just sat there, watching me as if
she’d been projecting each word of that letter to me.

Soundlessly we spoke, a thousand words voiced
in silence. Claire was one of my lessons in life, a testament that
people may not always be who they seem, and sometimes the purest
hearts are buried beneath their own mistakes.

I loved her more for seeing her way through
it. Loved her most for seeing through all of mine.

Dragging my attention away, I unwrapped her
gift and slowly lifted the lid. Inside, the gift was wrapped in
white, shimmery tissue paper, and a tiny note scrawled in script
was laid on top.

For your wedding night
.

The tissue paper rustled as I pulled it
free.

Maybe I was a little surprised. Maybe I really
wasn’t at all. And it wasn’t awkward or weird. I knew she was
giving it as her blessing.

Gently I lifted it by the delicate ribbon
straps. The nightie was entirely white. Baby-doll style, the soft
material looked as if it would brush just along the top of my
thighs. The bra and trim were edged in satin, and the rest flowed
free in a silky-sheer mesh. It was elegant and altogether
sexy.

In awe, I looked up at her. “This is
beautiful, Claire.”

I was just about as excited to stand in front
of Christian wearing this as I was my wedding my dress. No, being
with Christian was nothing new. How many times had I made love to
him when we were young, when we were all hands and need and desire?
As he’d taught me and I’d willingly learned, as I’d begged and he’d
pleased. And God, these last months since we’d reunited… I tingled
with the thought.

We knew each other’s bodies well.

But on our wedding night would be a first, a
start and a finish. A culmination. A completion.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered.

Prodding, she gestured with her chin. “There’s
one more there from me.”

Sarah was quick to place the second gift on my
lap. Smiling, I tugged at the paper and opened it.

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