CHAPTER THIRTY
Amelia
Later, we talked. I only had an hour before I left, but we had so much we had to discuss. We went to my bedroom and shut the door and lay down together. This time, though he was close, I wanted to spend the time discussing, not necessarily making love.
We had so many plans to make, and so little time in which to do it. I knew now that I had always wanted him. The reason I had not settled down was because my heart was not mine to give—it had always been his and always would.
“And so, dear?” I asked, looking into those lovely dark eyes.
“So?” he smiled, cupping my face with his hand. I was nestled into his shoulder, he was lying on his side and I on my back and my one hand held his, while his other stroked my skin. I smiled.
“So, what happens with us?” I stretched and he gasped as my breast brushed his arm.
“Well,” he said breathlessly, “a lot.”
I giggled. “Yes, a lot. But what?”
“Well,” he said, his lips making a mission down the side of my head and to my lips, then moving off again, “we make love, lots of it. But during that time I look for a job in Berkeley, and we maybe think of finding you a place big enough for actual people.”
I laughed. “My apartment is big enough for actual people,” I said crossly.
He smiled, that delightful grin that won my heart. “Yes. But I’d like to find something to share with you.”
I felt a strange sensation, like my heart melted. I blinked rapidly. “Carson…”
“Yes?”
“I do love you.”
He kissed my hair. “Me too.”
Later, we talked about other things. About how he was not as he was before the army. I knew that, and told him that it didn’t matter. He could trust me. He blinked back tears.
“I always thought…I wanted to be good enough for you, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “And when I got back, I thought…I thought I didn’t want to inflict myself on a girl like you.”
“Inflict! Carson! What?” she laughed. “If you had any idea how painful it was for me when you sent all those mixed messages…all I wanted was you.”
“Really?” he smiled, unsure.
“Carson!” I giggled. “I always wanted you.”
His eyes shut. I hadn’t noticed what long lashes he had before, funnily enough. When he looked back at me, his eyes were damp.
“I’m an asshole,” he said softly.
I giggled. “No, you aren’t. At least, not a big one.”
He roared with laughter. “Thank you, sweet. I’ll remember that.”
I smiled. “Seriously, Carson. I can’t believe your reason for staying away was to avoid hurting me. When I think of how you hurt me doing it!”
I closed my eyes again. I regretted that. Profoundly.
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “Carson, you know what?”
“What?”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
We said it together. We laughed. As he buried his face in my hair I felt my heart rise fit to bursting. I knew, then, how much I had always loved him. How this would be the start of so many wonderful memories. How much my life had changed this year.
“I love you,” I said, looking into his eyes. It was the truest thing I had ever said.
“I love you too,” he whispered.
We lay together, arms around each other and looked out of the window at the darkening sky.
After a moment, he moved so he could look into my eyes.
“I’m not going to lie, sweetheart. I will need help with…with all of it,” he said, waving a hand in a way that indicated the past: his memories, his pain, his suffering.
“I know,” I said, stroking his hair gently. “I understand. All I can do is say I’m there for you.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Amelia.”
“You have nothing to thank me for,” I said softly. “I am honored to be part of all that.”
He smiled. “Thank you, dear.”
“Thank you.”
We lay there awhile, and the clock on the wall ticked softly. “You know,” I said after a long moment.
“I would love to meet your daughter.”
“Really?” he smiled. “I’d love for you to meet her.”
“How old is she?”
“Eight,” he said.
“She was born while you were away?”
“Mm,” he replied. “I met her a year later.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was,” he agreed. “I think Macey couldn’t handle my being away. It’s no wonder she wanted rid of me.” He sighed.
“She did?” I asked. I guessed that was Leona’s mom.
“Well, she needed someone to be there. I couldn’t be.”
“Well, you’re still a good dad.” I said.
He smiled at me. “You think so?”
“I’m sure of it.” I had seen him with kids. I knew what an amazing father he could be.
“You…” he paused. “If she came to visit us, you wouldn’t mind?”
“No,” I said. I meant it. “She’s your child, dearest.”
“Amelia,” he smiled, kissing my hair. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We lay there awhile. I tried to imagine what his daughter might look like and then gave up. I would certainly meet her. I was curious. As much as I might have expected it to hurt—that he had married someone else—it didn’t. I understood the way these things happen. I also knew the past was the past. The present and the future were ours.
I smiled.
“What?” he asked.
“If you move to Berkeley, maybe you could work for the company.”
“Doing what, sweetheart?”
“Security?” I suggested. “It’s something we need a lot of.”
He frowned. I could tell he liked the idea. “It’s a thought,” he agreed.
“Well, you know all about it,” I offered.
He chuckled. “I don’t think I know much about anything, dearest.”
“Well, you do,” I smiled, swiveling so my body pressed against his. “You know a lot about me, for one thing. And how to please me.”
He laughed. I could feel him getting aroused, though I doubted he was as aroused as I was just then. I sighed. It was almost time for me to drive home. I could delay it a bit. I wanted to.
As he stroked my hair and my body melted against his, I thought about the future. While I could still think of things besides my pleasure, I realized how exciting it was.
There was not a cloud on the horizon. I could see it all so clearly. Our apartment together, his job—I was sure our company could get him on board—and his healing. I would heal too. I would learn to trust, to be gentler with myself and others. To love again.
As he kissed me and my body melted in his arms, I was more grateful than I could ever have been for the Christmas that had brought us finally together.