Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) (27 page)

BOOK: Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series)
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“Yes, you do,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re my husband.”

“I abandoned you, Aspen. When you needed me most, where was I?”

She shook her head. “That’s in the past.”

“No, it’s not.” I raised my voice. “You shouldn’t brush it away so easily. No! Aspen, you should demand an apology. You
deserve
an apology of the highest order.”

“Fine, then.” She tipped her chin forward. “Consider it demanded.”

I cracked a smile—one of those tension-breaking smiles that you do despite yourself.

“Aspen.”

She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. “Look, I was furious with you for such a long time. And you know what? It was exhausting and isolating. I’m done being angry. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Aspen, I could apologize every day for the rest of our lives and I still don’t think I’ll be worthy of your forgiveness. I deserted you in your darkest hour. I took my love away when you needed me the most. I forced you to seek help from someone else.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “You did. I won’t deny that.”

“And that someone else knows you in a way that I don’t . . . and that kills me.”

Aspen was quiet. She glanced down at the floor before meeting my eyes. “I had nowhere else to go.”

“I know. And I know it’s my fault. If I had helped you, you would never have gone to him. And he wouldn’t have a place in our lives. He wouldn’t have a place,” I hesitated, but then realized it needed be said. This was the time. “In our marriage.”

Aspen recoiled and shook her head passionately. “He doesn’t.”

“Aspen, be truthful. Please, now is the time.”

She paced the room for a moment before speaking. “All right, fine.”

“Tell me.”

“He made me feel safe.” She shrugged. “He did.”

“I understand.”

“And that feeling of safety, it—it was pervasive. It morphed into a friendship, at first. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t develop feelings.”

A knife twisted in my gut, but I knew I’d handed her that knife. And not only that, I’d forced her hand to stab my flesh. It was me . . . all of it.

Aspen’s eyebrows were furrowed as she studied my face.

“Go on.”

“But those feelings, they could never and would never compare to how I feel for you, Paul. When we first married, I didn’t understand them. Frankly, I don’t think I understood them until the day you told me I was no longer your wife, that I was simply the mother of your child. That was the day I lost you. And the day I realized why that hurt so deeply.”

“I’ll hate myself forever for that day.”

“No, please don’t. It took losing you for me to realize how I truly felt. Jonathan has been a gift from Heavenly Father, he has. He’s a wonderful man who cares for me deeply.”

“I saw that for myself.” I shook my head. “And it killed me.”

“But he knows I don’t feel the same, and it hasn’t stopped his desire to help us. He’s a good man, Paul. What he didn’t understand, though, is that no matter what Clarence Black may do, no matter what living hell he may put us through, I believe in Heavenly Father and I believe in
you
. I know you were the man I was meant to spend my life with. I don’t want you all to myself, and frankly, I never will. My faith and my belief in plural marriage are permanently locked together. Are you okay with that? Can you handle having me as only one of your wives?”

I paused and thought of my other wives, my other children. There was a time in our relationship when I could have walked away from Flora, Sarah, and all my other wives, my other children. But not anymore. The thought of never seeing Sarah again was especially painful. I answered honestly.

“Yes, I can. I believe in plural marriage too. I believe in our faith and no one, not even Clarence Black can change that.”

She sighed with a satisfied nod. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’ve put you through so much, Aspen. How on earth can you stand there and absolve me so easily? I expected you to be furious with me, to punish me for all the ways I’ve wronged you over the past few months.”

She shook her head and placed a hand on each of my cheeks, her blue eyes flaring as her pupils widened. “I was furious, but my
need
for you outweighed my anger. It always has.”

My eyes grew misty with that statement. I closed them tight and nodded. “I’m so grateful for that.”

“You have
no
idea how long I’ve waited for you to offer your support, your love, your solidarity. You have
no
idea just how long I’ve prayed to Heavenly Father to have you back.”

I shook my head as the shame crept back into my brain. “I can only imagine.”

“And that, my dear husband, is why I can excuse every sin you’ve committed against our marriage vows. Because I’m so desperate to have you with me again, so thirsty for your support, that I just don’t care. I don’t care about what happened last week, last month, or last year. I just don’t care because my husband has
returned
. He’s not seeing through me; he’s not ignoring the sound of my voice. He’s
present
. And he
believes
me. And he’s going to
help
me. We’re going to face this together. That’s an unbelievable feeling, and you have no idea how long I’ve waited for it.”

A laugh escaped my lips and I pulled her close. “I’ll be grateful for your forgiveness until my dying day.” I kissed each of her cheeks and then her forehead, her neck, her chin. Her muscles didn’t tense at my touch and I knew, right then and there, that her words were true. She loved me as much as I loved her. She missed me as badly as I missed her.

“Until my dying day,” I whispered after placing gentle kisses along the neckline of her dress.

“Paul?” she asked, her chest heaving beneath the heavy fabric. I raised my eyes to meet hers.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breathing labored. She was turned on by my touch; she wanted more. There was nothing sexier than when Aspen wanted more. “Kiss me the way you used to . . . kiss me like you did when we first . . . when we first—”

I didn’t need another invitation, in that second I claimed her mouth with my own and wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and pulled her close. With each hungry kiss, I could feel her passion match my own. I savored the feel of her, the softness of her lips and the greedy nature of her tongue. I sighed at her fingertips dancing through my hair as she pulled me toward her bed.

Her hands slid down to unbutton the top button of my shirt and, stunned, I pulled away slightly. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, licking her lips. “Absolutely certain. I want to give myself to you, Paul. I want to be your wife again . . . in every sense of the word.”

“I want that, too. More than you could ever know.”

I watched as Aspen stripped herself of her restrictive clothes, never breaking eye contact with me. It was the most seductive thing I’d ever had the honor of watching. Her full breasts and hips enticed as her braid hung over her shoulder. I motioned toward the bottom of her braid.

“May I?” I was eager to see her hair outside of its mandated braid. This wasn’t something I generally asked of my wives, but I wanted to see her, all of her, as naked as she came into this world. I wanted to see Aspen in her most beautiful, natural state.

“Of course.” She nodded and turned away from me. I released the braid from the rubber band that held it in place at the bottom. Gently and deliberately, I pulled the braided hair apart until it hung in waves down her back.

“You’re so beautiful,” I said, running my fingers through her thick tresses for the very first time. It was softer than I’d imagined, and I loved the feel of it against my fingertips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, nuzzling my neck as she unbuttoned my shirt.

Our lovemaking was urgent as we tugged at one another, gasped for air, and cried out in sheer ecstasy. When I found my release, I looked down at my wife as tears spilled from her eyes. “Did I hurt you?” I asked, nervous our urgency had been too urgent. That perhaps I’d been too rough, too unaware, too lost in myself to notice her pain.

“No,” she said, wiping her tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying, to be honest. “Relief? Happiness? Guilt?”

I kissed the tip of her nose. “Guilt?”

She nodded. “With everything happening, with our children’s futures on the line, it feels wrong to feel as happy as I do.”

“I get it. But we’re stronger for them now. We’re stronger together.”

She wrapped both arms around my neck and pulled me down to meet her lips again. This kiss was gentle, less urgent. I laid next to her and she snuggled into my chest, running her hands up and down my skin, tickling me without meaning to.

“You’re right,” she said. “No more guilt.”

“Only happiness. Happiness and healing.”

“And justice.”

“Yes, we can’t forget justice.”

“Do you think we can do this, Paul? Really do this? Beat the proph—beat
Clarence
at his own game?”

“Absolutely, I do.” I kissed the top of her head. “And you want to know why?”

She pushed up to rest her weight on her elbow. “Tell me.”

“Because I believe in you. Any other woman on this compound would have run from his threats, but not you. You stood tall, you
fought back
. And now I’m going to fight with you. Together we’ll take him down. If I know anything at all, I know this, Aspen . . . we
will
win.”

A confident smile crossed her swollen lips and she kissed me deeply before nuzzling back into my chest and drifting off to sleep. The soft rise and fall of her chest lulled me to sleep. Despite everything surrounding us, the challenges that laid before all of us in our family and our community at large, I was able to rest easy. Aspen and I had slayed our demons, and we’d come out stronger than ever. For the first time in our marriage, we were a team. A team I believed in with every fiber of my being.

I could only hope that was enough.

 

Chapter 24

 

 

A knot formed in Jonathan’s stomach and his mouth went dry as he listened to Isaac Black’s statement. He knew about the abuse, he’d seen the ledger and heard Aspen’s account of the proof at the temple. That all paled in comparison to watching a young man tremble as he told his story. Jonathan was impressed with Isaac’s recollection of the details and knew that if he was able to testify in court, their case against Clarence Black was strong. Isaac was a likable and sympathetic witness. Jurors’ hearts would break as they listened to his painfully honest account of what he was subjected to in that temple.

Between Porter’s friend Jared and Isaac’s statements, he’d have a warrant in his hands within the next few days and the so-called “prophet” would be in custody.

He’d hoped Aspen would have joined her husband and Isaac for the statement, but knew he had to stop hoping for contact with the woman who would never, and could never, be his. He knew it was time to move on, to meet someone else or finally dial the number on the Post-it note in his desk drawer. Instead, he did what was comfortable. After saying his goodbyes to Paul and his son, he grabbed his cell and dialed his ex-wife.

“What’s up?” she asked. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Usually you don’t call so late.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Did I, uh . . . interrupt something? Is Frankincense pissed?”

“He’ll get over it. You sound off. Are you all right?”

“Big development in that case. Just got a statement . . . from a kid.”

“Oh shit, you mean . . . ?”

“Yeah, a victim.”

Elizabeth sighed into the phone. “I’m sorry. But that’s a good thing, right? For the case, I mean.”

Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, it is. Just tough to witness, ya know? You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

“You’re a good person. Evil never makes sense to you.”

“Good point.” He didn’t want to say goodbye but didn’t have more to say. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to hear her voice. It soothed him when nothing else could.

“Get some rest, Jon. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He ended the call and placed the phone in his pocket, pondering that Post-it note once again. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was hesitant to call Linda Jean. She was attractive, bright, and clearly into him. His infatuation with Aspen had been the main factor in his hesitancy a weeks ago, but he was slowly letting her go. So what was his hesitation now?

The mess that was his love life was no longer a concern the second he saw the text come in. It was Holly.

-Haven’t heard from you in a while and Aspen isn’t returning my texts. Is there anything I can do to help the case? Is there still a case?

Jonathan pondered the text for a moment, wondering why Aspen was out of touch with Holly. Knowing she was apprehensive to team up with one of Clarence Black’s wives to begin with, he decided he wanted to speak with her before giving Holly any more information than needed.

-Yes, there is still a case. Will touch base with you ASAP. Thanks for being there.

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