The scent of freshly made pancakes wafted up the stairs and into the bedroom. After returning from the restaurant Ryan had held her, had made love to her without breaking eye contact. She felt as if he was trying to memorize her, to hold onto her tighter than ever before and it almost gave her hope.
The problem was they’d been there before, wordless promises or not, and she wasn’t sure Ryan had it in him to hold onto his own plans.
Still, deciding to hope for the best, she got up and reached for his button-down, which had landed unceremoniously on the ground and was now all wrinkled. She buttoned it up, then rolled up the sleeves and found him only in boxers in the kitchen.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he greeted her and she smiled to herself.
“It was a long night, so I figured I deserve a long morning, too.” She grinned and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting her head against his back.
He hummed softly, some song she vaguely remembered hearing the night before, but liked much more when the sound come from him.
“Are you hungry for pancakes?” he asked and she let go of him, leaning next to the stove against the counter.
“Absolutely. I’m starved actually.” Which was a surprise because they’d had a late dinner and she normally wasn’t a big eater, but this smelled mouth-watering.
He kissed her forehead and then plated three pancakes each, carrying them over to the coffee table. She had been so focused on him when coming down the stairs, she hadn’t even seen he’d set it with coffee and juice.
Rolling up a pancake, she drew her legs underneath her after sitting down on the sofa. “I could totally get used to this,” she said around a mouthful and he sat down behind her, drawing her into his lap.
“I could, too.” He took a sip from his coffee before placing the cup down again and Aimie turned on his lap, the pancakes gone, and framed his face, taking him in as if she hadn’t seen him in forever.
He was still easily the most handsome man she’d ever been with, maybe had ever seen. His dark eyes seemed to look into her soul, and when he licked his lips, she couldn’t resist, leaning in to kiss him while pulling his boxers out of the way and guiding him to where she needed him most.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, she moved slowly, softly, their gazes locked, and it made her heart thunder. She knew she loved him, had no doubt, and also knew he loved her just as much, but would that be enough?
“Aimie,” he whispered as if she’d spoken out loud, as if he could read the doubt in her face.
His hand drowned in her hair, holding her almost immobile as he claimed her lips, her mouth captive, as if he was feeding off their connection. With the way her core rubbed against him, and the way his erection teased the sweet spot deep inside of her, she was close to coming too soon.
She wanted to draw this out, wanted to make it last forever.
“Aims, beautiful, I’m going to come soon. I’ve been thinking about you all morning, was hard when I woke up, and now…shit…” He exhaled slowly, as if trying to control himself, and she felt his breath wash over her lips.
“Let go,” she urged and he shook his head, the strain obvious in the way his jaw worked. She cupped his cheek and kissed him again, teasing his lips apart with her tongue, stroking it over his while circling her hips. She swallowed up every moan he made, every groan escaping his throat, then she felt him jerk inside of her, a curse leaving him when they parted.
Ryan’s fingertips were digging into her hips as she helped him ride out the orgasm, teased him a little even when it was obvious he was spent.
“God, Aimie, that was…” He shook his head. “Intense.”
On that she agreed. His hand came between them and he all but smirked as his thumb found her clit and brought her right back to the edge before making her tumble over it. He held her close while she came back from her high, too, and she was glad about that because she could already imagine the mess they’d make the moment they stood.
“Bet you cannot carry me to the bathroom the way we are,” she challenged and he laughed, cupping her ass before carefully getting up with her.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she made, mainly to spur him on, and he chuckled, pausing on the stairs to briefly kiss her, then making it the rest of the way, placing her in the shower before helping her out of his shirt.
He discarded his boxers and turned on the water, causing her to squeal as the water hit her, still cold.
Laughing, he gathered her against him, kissing her until she forgot she was freezing at all. He was tender, gentle with her, as if he was thinking carefully about how to touch her, how to speak to her.
So much more considerate, and intense, as he’d said. She felt it in every movement, heard it in every word.
When she’d worried the day before that they wouldn’t make it, she now couldn’t help but think that after the talk yesterday everything was different. It was up and down with her, but she wasn’t even surprised about that because the truth was, as much as she wanted to go back home, she wouldn’t unless she really saw no hope for Ryan and herself.
She also knew it wouldn’t be easy, and yet she figured that once she was officially allowed to work and found her own routine here in Monterey, things would be different, changed…better.
* * *
I was three here.” Ryan held out the picture of him carrying a handful of hats. “I stole them from my grandfather. He collected them, and wore one every day, and never the same twice in a week. He was obsessed with them—until I hid them all and he could only find one. I swear, my mom was so mad at me for breaking my grandpa’s heart.”
The memory still made him smile.
“You were three. No one could’ve blamed you for what you did. That’s just…” She made a dismissive noise and then flipped through more pictures. He surrendered the whole pile, waiting for her to pick him out in most when one made her pause.
“When was that? You look…young, but not too young. Seventeen?” she inquired and he took the picture from her, studying it.
“That was…” He wasn’t quite sure, but when he turned the picture and spotted the year, realization slammed into him.
“Yes?” she prompted, as if having felt the change within him.
“When I was eighteen, right before leaving for college, my life almost took a different turn.”
She shifted until she could look at him, and he had half a mind to turn her back around, to make sure she wouldn’t be able to see his face.
“Ryan, what’s going on?”
He held up the picture again, pointing at the building. “What do you think that is?”
Her face scrunched up while she studied the building, and Ryan kissed her cheek, finding her adorable.
“I don’t know. A hospital?”
“An abortion clinic.”
He let the words settle in and watched the color drain from her face. “You made a girl have an abortion?” Her voice shook and he couldn’t blame her.
“I didn’t force anyone to do anything. Her mother called me from the clinic and I broke every speed limit to get there. I was in the car for ten minutes. She was my girlfriend, not some one-nightstand. We hadn’t talked about kids, but hell, she made the decision without me, only with her mother, and it was last minute her mother had a change of heart.”
“Too last minute,” Aimie whispered and he rubbed his forehead. He avoided thinking of that day, had almost successfully suppressed it along with most horrors he’d seen during his time as field doctor.
“I stood there and her mother was crying her eyes out, regret lacing every word she muttered. About how she should’ve forced Tina to talk to me. How she shouldn’t have allowed it to happen without me there.”
He tried to remember the woman, tried to remember what she’d worn that day because he’d spent two hours with her, but he couldn’t. He also knew he’d been inside the clinic, talking to Tina, but that he couldn’t recall, either.
“You were in shock,” Aimie whispered as he relayed that realization to her. “You didn’t expect to become a dad and you had just a few minutes to get aquatinted with the thought. Why didn’t you mention it when we talked about children?” There was suspicion in her voice, but he could ease her mind.
“I didn’t think about it because there was no real thinking about being a father. After that day I focused on studying. I mean, you don’t get a medical degree for nothing, and I wanted to get a head start on my studies and reading. It kept me occupied. T and I split, right after, because she actually suffered from depression afterward. Bad. She killed herself, if I remember right, a couple of years after. I wasn’t in the country for her funeral, and really, it hadn’t been anything more than a high school relationship. We hadn’t planned on staying together forever. We had fun. It was nice. But…”
“Nothing serious,” Aimie finished for him.
“With all the horrors I’ve seen afterward, the shock from back then isn’t present in my mind. Wasn’t, even when seeing that picture. I was ten minutes there. Five minutes with Tina inside, five outside with her mother before I took the woman away to buy her tea. She was a mess, crying for the grandchild she knew they could’ve raised well.”
That was one of the few things he remembered from the talk he’d had with her. The way she’d said they could’ve raised it, not even considering him.
“Would you have wanted it?”
He lowered his eyes, not wanting to see her face any longer. “I don’t think I’d be a doctor if that child would’ve been born. I wouldn’t have left home knowing my flesh and blood was running around there. My life wouldn’t have been what it is now.”
“And the Army?”
He thought for a moment. “Probably not, either,” he admitted.
She stayed silent for a few minutes, then he felt her fingertips under his chin. “And now? Would you cut back to raise a child?”
“I wouldn’t be alone, Aimie. We’d be a couple and…” No, he wouldn’t cut back because he knew he’d feel the need to make money, to provide for his family, and maybe that wasn’t what he was supposed to do or feel, but the thought of a child suffering because you couldn’t provide for it?
Horrible.
Laughter drew him from his thoughts. “Not provide for it? Ryan, you’re a doctor! How in the world do you think you couldn’t provide for a kid?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement and unbreakable faith in his dedication, making him realize with her maybe he really could make it.
“I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you did.”
He was, too, because she’d eased his mind considerably. “You know,” he started after a while, “I think one day I’d love to have a child with you, even if only to show it off at work. I hope it’ll have your eyes.”
She smiled a genuine smile, and then framed his face. “Honestly, we have time. However, maybe you should think about it a little more, just…for the sake of it, and one day maybe we’ll get back to that topic.”
“So you want children, Aimie? For real?”
She smirked, all her insecurities from their last talk gone. “Only with you,” she answered and that was something Ryan definitely liked hearing.
* * *
Aimie had fallen asleep half way into their afternoon series binging, and Ryan couldn’t even say he minded. She was curled up against him, her breath even and calm, and he brushed his fingertips down her back, enjoying her closeness, her warmth.
He kissed the top of her head, his eyes on the screen, his whole focus on the woman in his arms while his mind was still raw from things he’d long forgotten and now unearthed. With the memory came so many more, of dead comrades, of bloody faces, torn limbs. It was as if everything was rushing out of him now, his brain having unlocked a door he wished would’ve stayed locked. There was so much he’d never wanted to remember again, it scared him.
Still, with Aimie as close as she was, the horrors seemed to hover around, not coming closer. They were like shadows, waiting until the light was gone before attacking.
“When I was on my first tour there was a private. She was so young, fresh out of basic training, out of everything, just allowed on her first tour, and she was bubbly. So much. She was beautiful, too, but had no eyes for her comrades. In fact, I think she batted for the wrong team for any of us. Anyway, you remind me of her. She used to be full of life, so happy and ready to attack the world. After the tour we lost contact, and I saw her last a couple of years ago. She’d graduated the academy doing something with information techniques or something. Communication things in the Army. She wasn’t the same woman anymore.”
Aimie shifted although he’d kept his voice low. He wasn’t even sure why he was telling her when she wasn’t awake, but all he could think was that he wanted her to know and yet not know.
“I wouldn’t have recognized her. There was a new wisdom in her eyes as well that could’ve been centuries old. You know, as if you’d seen the world crumble and it had never been put back together. She wasn’t shining anymore, but occasionally you saw the cracks in her melancholic exterior and you could see the sun underneath. When I married you, when I planned that, I’d been sure you and I would figure it out, and I’d break away your heavy and sad outer shell to let the sun out. I haven’t so far. I feel like a failure.”
He cuddled her closer, brushing back a wayward strand of hair, then ran his fingertip along her jaw. “What if we cannot make it? What if I wasn’t the one meant for you?”
He’d been thinking about that since the almost-fight the day before. Never before had he considered that there was something like someone made for someone else, but with Aimie he couldn’t help but think that they both wanted to desperately hold on, and yet couldn’t break old habits and wishes.
He wanted to be around her constantly, and he definitely didn’t want to work too many overtime shifts anymore because it was slowly breaking him, yet he hardly ever saw himself saying no whenever people asked if he could stay. Aimie was on his mind constantly; her smile and touch making him wish he was home with her.
So why wasn’t he rushing home when he should?
Because you fear she’ll be gone, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. All the times she’d cooked for him, the times she’d cleaned the entire apartment and had gotten pretty for him, only to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him, and lastly, all the times he’d received her worried calls because he’d forgotten to tell her he’d be working late, they would catch up with him, and he knew it.
Her considering going back home was the best example. He’d been sure everything between them was clear, but it seemed she was less inclined to stay in the U.S. than Tessa had been.
Leaving behind her family hadn’t been hard for Tessa, not when there wasn’t much of a relationship to speak of with them in the first place.
Just like he barely had any contact with his father because their relationship was nothing if not strained.
Funnily enough, suddenly Ryan wanted to talk to him. Six years of no words exchanged, and his father was the only man Ryan longed to talk to.
Shifting Aimie, careful to not wake her just yet, he stood and grabbed his phone, making his way up to the bedroom.
It took forever for the call to connect, as if the world was giving him the chance to hang up, but then Landon Spencer’s gravelly voice answered.
“Spencer.”
“Here, too. Hey Dad,” Ryan said softly, unsure of what his father was going to think.
“Doctor Spencer. It’s good to hear from you. I see you changed your number.”
Ryan thought for a moment, wondering if it could be possible his father had tried to contact him, only to find his number changed, but then realized there hadn’t been in change in number or address for years.
“Well, it’s been a while. Dad, did you ever think you and Mom weren’t meant to be?” His mother had died when he’d been eighteen, and although Ryan remembered her clearly, remembered the way his parents were together, he suddenly couldn’t remember if he ever thought they were a couple you should strive to be like.
“Start with the heavy questions, why don’t you?” His father chuckled, but it sounded strained. “It didn’t matter if she was meant to be mine, because I got her no matter what. I had her with me, I married her, and she married me willingly. She and I belonged together. It didn’t matter how many times I thought she’d walk out, I held onto her, and I loved her with all I had. And what if she wasn’t my destiny? I made sure she still felt like she was my one and only.”
It struck him how different his father used to be, but with all the bitterness he’d built up over the years, Ryan had a hard time believing his memories to be true.
“What happened, son, that brought up this question? I mean, don’t think I’m not grateful for your call, but…it’s weird.”
Ryan snorted. “You haven’t been grateful for my calls in a very long time.” He couldn’t help the bite in his voice, couldn’t help the remark no matter how much he didn’t want to fight.
“I haven’t been the best of fathers, but it’s been a long time since you talked to me, and I wrote ten apology letters. They all returned unopened, so what more was I supposed to do? I was trying to make amends, and you are on top of the list.”
“Letters?” Ryan asked, still hung up on that word. He’d never once received any.
“Letters. Ten,” his father confirmed. “I sent them to your home and they all came back unopened. In fact, there was a note the receiver refused them.”
He ran his hand across the stubble on his face and sighed. “I never once refused a letter. I never once got one. Dad, what are you talking about? When did you start sending the first letters?”
“Three years ago, when…three years ago.”
Ryan wondered what his father wasn’t saying, but he figured if his old man wanted him to know, he’d say it.
“Wow, that’s a long time. Maybe you misspelled the address, or—”
“Oh come on. There aren’t too many towns called Monroe. How could I possibly forget you live there?”
Ryan’s heart dropped. “Dad, I haven’t lived in Monroe for nearly a decade. Monterey, California, that’s where I am,” he explained, wondering what kind of letters those had been, what he’d have found in them.
“God, I’m sorry. I had two addresses, and didn’t know what Monterey was for, if you’d been stationed there, but recalled you went away from bases, so…I picked the wrong one. You weren’t angry with me. I just picked the wrong address. I was a mess when we’d last spoken and I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
The confession came as a surprise and Ryan didn’t have much to say to it. “You did. However, I’m calling because…I got married, dad.”
There was silence, then a quiet sniffle before his father spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you and I weren’t on speaking terms when you did. I would’ve loved to be there. When was it? The wedding?”
“A couple of weeks ago.” In fact, they were married two months by now, and as much as time seemed to standstill a lot of times, it also felt like a lifetime for him. He couldn’t remember not having Aimie at his place. “There weren’t many people. It was a Vegas wedding. I wanted her, and she wanted me, but…I’m coming to think I crossed fate’s plan when marrying her there.”
His father chuckled. “Don’t think she was meant to be yours?”
Ryan smiled to himself. “Meant to be mine, but I can’t help but think I wasn’t meant to be hers. I took her away from someone who could maybe make her happier.”
“I wish I could meet her.”
Ryan thought for a moment, wondering if he could trust the change of heart his father seemed to have had, but knew he wouldn’t know either way until he faced his old man. What was better to reconcile a family than a new member? Plus, he wanted Aimie to know every part of him, and even if it meant seeing a fight between his father and him from a front row seat.
“Are you still living in Bakersfield?” His father had always been so close, and yet so far away. Not that it had made a difference for Ryan up until that moment.
“Yes.”
Ryan stayed silent for a moment, thinking, wondering. Should he push it out longer, or just seize the day?
Deciding there was no time to waste, he sighed. “Well, get something for dinner. I’ll bring my wife, and then we’ll talk about what changed three years ago.”
“We will. Drive safely,” his father promised. They hung up and Ryan stood, packing together some clothes to stay overnight. He grabbed a shirt and a hoodie for Aimie, figuring his clothes would be just perfect on her, then he went into the bathroom, checking his reflection in the mirror. The scruff had to go, and he shaved before pausing.
Was he really thinking his father had changed? That their many meaningless fights were a thing of the past? Could they move on from there, forward, without looking back?
God, Ryan couldn’t say how much he wished it would work out because it gave him the feeling that he’d finally gotten his life back together.
* * *
Aimie woke with a start when Ryan shook her shoulder. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he’d been warm and safe against her, making her relax until her eyes hadn’t wanted to stay open any longer.
“Ryan?” she asked, sleepy, trying to clear her muddy thoughts.
“What do you think about a road trip, Aims?” he asked, cupped her cheek.
“Road trip?” she echoed, not sure what he was saying.
He nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly. She held him in place with her hand on his nape, and then smiled. “Fine, road trip.”
Ryan laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. That kiss was sweet, gentle, serious. It feels as if this is important to you, so road trip it is. Do I need to pack things?”
He winked. “Already did that. My clothes for you and me both.”
Aimie stood, laughing, and then she walked over to the stairs. “I’ll still pack something, if you don’t mind,” she called over her shoulder and his chuckle followed her up the stairs. She grabbed her toothbrush, some underwear, socks, and a top as well as a blouse, wondering if she’d need to make an effort in case they went out. There had been something in his eyes that made her stomach somersault. She’d seen hope as well as worry, and decided no matter what was happening, she’d be holding his hand through it all.
There still was a tiny part of her that hoped he just wanted to do a sweet getaway for only the two of them, but her heart seemed to know better, its beat irregular and uneasy as she made her way back down to her husband.
He was staring at the door without really seeing it, seemingly ready to go.
“Let’s go.”
He drew her in and kissed her, thanking her before opening the door and leading her outside. Frankly, none of that settled her nerves at all.