Chapter Fourteen
Clove
The doctor wanted me to rest before I talked to anyone. I feel slightly groggy from the mild sedative I was given to calm me down. They had practically had to pry Journey from my arms. Even though they guaranteed me she would be all right, I still kicked and screamed, lashed out and clawed all of them.
I only relented when I heard Krista’s soothing voice in my ear telling me everything was going to be fine and that she would not let Journey out of her sight. I handed her over to Krista and I haven’t seen her since. I don’t know what the hell is going on with my daughter. I want her. She needs me.
“Clove?”
A familiar voice pierces the fog I am in. I bring my head around to test my own sight to see if it’s really him. His handsome face steps into view.
“Dad!”
“Oh, my baby.”
He sits on the bed and his arms come around me, and oh, God! He smells like my dad. I burst into tears, and he cries right along with me. I miss my daughter, but right now, I need to be a little girl; I need my dad.
“My sweet girl. Stop crying. Please.”
He shushes me, comforting me just like he did when I when I would fall off my bike as a kid, or the first time I had to get a filling in my tooth. I cling to him just as tightly now as I did then.
“Let me take a look at you.”
I shake my head back and forth but otherwise, I keep myself still. I’m not ready to let go of him. An overpowering sensation of guilt, embarrassment, and shame devours me. I don’t know what I will see when he looks at me. Will he hate me for the things that I have done as much as I hate myself? Will he blame me or blame himself?
“Sweetheart, please let me look at you. I’m right here, honey. Dad is right here, but I need to see you, really see you.”
The strength in the way he speaks has me gradually lifting my head off of his shoulder, my head cast down, wringing my hands in my lap.
“Hey, let your old man see that pretty face,” he says, using the silly voice he always used when he thought he was saying something funny.
I reach for a tissue to wipe my sodden cheeks. Tears still sting my eyes. I’ve cried so much in the past few hours, I’m surprised I have any left.
“There she is,” he says with fondness.
I avoid looking straight at my dad. Instead, I roll over on my side and look out the window. The sun is up now shining brightly in the sky, though the dregs of the past twenty-four hours are fresh.
“I’m so sorry, Dad.”
I cringe lower in the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.
“Oh, honey. I’m not sure what you think you’re sorry for. None of this is your fault. And besides, we’re not going to talk about anything right now except for the fact that I have missed you so much. And I am so glad you’re home.”
I don’t want to talk about it, either. None of it. Ever. I know I will have to soon, though. I will have to relive every damn thing, from the very beginning.
I feel my dad get up and look over my shoulder to watch him. He grabs the back of the chair in the corner, turning it to face me. Not saying a word, he flips the covers off of me and reaches for my hand.
A sad smile sweeps across his face.
“Now there she really is.”
He brushes some hair back from my face. I smile back. He looks the same, but different. He’s aged. More wrinkles adorn the corners of his eyes. He looks shaken, which you rarely see.
“You okay, Dad?” I ask worriedly.
His troubled expression disappears in an instant.
“I am now that you’re here.”
“I have a strange question to ask,” I blurt out, humiliated to say the least that I even have to ask.
“You can ask me anything, you know that.”
“What day is it?” I whisper.
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down and I can tell he is trying to hold back from losing it, to be strong for me.
“It- it’s Wednesday, July fifteenth.”
“Oh, wow. So I’ve been gone for a little over a year, then. I missed your birthday, and Nolan’s, and-”
“Clove, stop! This isn’t something we need to discuss right now, not when I want to hear all about my new granddaughter.”
His entire face lights up when he brings up Journey, which makes mine, too.
“Have you seen her? Is she all right? She’s probably so hungry and so scared. I should probably call the nurse and feed her.”
I sit up in bed and search for the call button. My dad places his hand over the top of mine to stop me.
“She’s fine. Melody and I just saw her and Krista has been with her the whole time.”
A sense of peace rushes through me knowing my sister-in-law hasn’t left Journey’s side, just like she promised. Swallowing hard, I shut my eyes and try to consider what I want to ask next. I know the doctor told me he’s concerned about my mental state. I’m worried, too, but more about Journey than myself.
“She looks so much like you when you were a baby,” says my dad. “When I first saw her, it took me back to the first time I held you in my arms. My perfect little angel. It seems like yesterday I was holding you in my arms and now look at you. My little girl is a mom. And I’m a grandpa again. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, and I am going to spoil our little princess rotten.”
This is just what I needed to hear, the man I needed to see. My dad looks at me, sees past all my flaws, and loves me unconditionally no matter what I do or what I have done. He loves me.
“She’s such a good baby. I’m so lucky to have her. You taught me the true meaning of loving unconditionally. I want everything for her.”
“I know you do, and no one will love her more than you. You’re a good woman, and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Right now, though, I’m going to step out and let you get some sleep. We have all the time in the world to catch up.”
“No, not yet. Please. I… I’ve missed you so much and tomorrow it’s-”
I pause, not sure if I can get the words to come out of my mouth.
“Your anniversary.”
“Yeah, my anniversary.”
“We can talk about all that after you rest, okay?”
“Dad, no. You don’t understand! You see...”
I look away from him for a minute to try and regain my composure. I have to know. Before anything else happens, before I can take another step forward, I need to know this.
“What are you trying to say, Clove?”
I look up at him. His eyes seem to be filled with hope, beseeching me with a promise of some sort. My heart leaps. I become more alert, and for the first time in over a year, I feel it. His presence. He’s here, I know he is!
I start to cry again. My dad’s demeanor changes right away, but I welcome these tears; they’re tears of happiness, relief. He pushes the IV out of his way and comes over to me. His arms go around my waist, my head resting on his shoulder.
“He’s alive, isn’t he?” I choke out through my sniffles. “Oh, my God. He’s alive!”
My happiness quickly deflates though, and I pull away harshly from his embrace.
“He’s going to hate me! I’ve betrayed him. Broken us. He’s never going to forgive me for the things I’ve done,” I say, distraught.
Dad stands up abruptly, towering over the top of me.
“Clove Calloway. Stop it now. I mean it. You’re not thinking straight right now. You have been through something none of us can even begin to imagine.”
His tone changes as he continues.
“Now, listen to me. That man out there, your husband, loves you. Do the two of you have a lot to talk about? Yes, you do. But know this. No one, especially Turner, blames you for a thing. The only person blaming you, is you.”
He grabs hold of both my hands.
“If I could take away any of your pain, I would. I would give my life not to have to be in this room and watch my daughter go through hell. Sweetheart, you need to slow down. You need time to heal, to process all of this, but mostly, honey, you need to let him see you.”
I’ve been living in this black hole of nothingness for so long now, thinking my husband was dead and blaming myself for all of it. I want to give in to this feeling of hopelessness and worthlessness, the sense that I will never be able to feel again, to function like a normal person.
“I’m scared. What if...”
He presses a couple of his fingers to my mouth.
“No what if’s. This is about the three of you, now. I’m going to go out, and when you’re ready to see him, you let the nurse know. I love you, Clove. More than anything.”
With that, he places a tender kiss on my forehead and leaves me with my own thoughts.
I need just a little bit more time to process all of this in my mind. I’m so nervous. What will I say to him when I see him? What will he say to me? Will the love we once had be able to endure what I have done? Will he be able to forgive me? And Journey, what will he think about her?
My eyelids become heavy. I fight closing them and let myself drift off to sleep, curled up on my side, facing away from the door that separates me from the only man I will ever love.
“How many kids do you want?”
Turner’s low-pitched question catches me off guard.
“Where did that come from?”
I roll over on my side as we snuggle on our bed in the small apartment we shared our senior year of college.
“I don’t know, really. Just curious, I guess.”
He shrugs and rolls over to face me.
“I want two, both boys,” I say playfully.
“Why boys?”
“They say boys are easier to take care of. How about you?” I ask, my curiosity suddenly piqued.
“Two. Boys or girls, it doesn’t really matter to me as long as they’re healthy. However,” he continues, flipping me onto my back, climbing on top of me, and grinding his hips into mine, “if we have a girl, I want her to look just like you.”
“Really? Well, I think… wait, you just said ‘we.’ ”
My brows knit in confusion.
“Don’t look at me like I just grew another head, babe. I’m not talking about us having kids tomorrow. I’m speaking about the future. Of course I want to have them with you, I’m fucking crazy about you. So, two kids it is. I say we get to practicing right now.”
He shuts me up by kissing me relentlessly, biting my lip, then sucking it deep into his mouth. I let out a slight whimper.
The intent behind his kiss is passionate and filled with promises of what’s to come. His hand starts stroking my face, tilting it to the angle he wants.
We are literally sharing our souls with each other the more fervently we kiss, tongues teasing, searching, and promising more to come.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.”
Tenderly he grazes his thumb across my nipple.
“Mmm. I need to see these.”
He shifts, pulls me up, and has my shirt off and over my head in no time.
“So beautiful.”
I fall back on the bed wearing only my light blue boy shorts, running my eyes up and down his naked torso. A hint of his straining dick peeks out of the top of his black basketball shorts.
“These need to go, too.”
Hooking his thumbs into the side on my boy shorts, he pulls them off and tosses them behind his shoulder.
“Jesus, I will never get tired of looking at you.”
He brings his head down and pulls a nipple into his mouth, causing me to arch my back. I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out, digging my hands into his hair and pulling him closer to my breast. The way he is sucking on my nipple almost to the point of pain is enough to send me over the edge.
“God, Turner, the things you do to me drive me crazy,” I moan.
He moves his mouth to the top of my breast, lightly sucking the same spot for a minute or two. I stare down at him.
“Are you marking me?”
“Yup. Just leaving a little friendly reminder here so I can admire what’s mine.”
He tilts his head slightly the other way and sucks a little more.
“I’m already yours,” I say breathlessly, the sensation of what he is doing setting off tingles and deep pressure between my legs.
“There. All done.”
He admires his handiwork with a smile.
“What did you do?” I lift my head and look at my breast. “You have got to be kidding me! A ‘T’? You put a hickey in the shape of a T on my boob? Oh, my God!” I laugh.
He places a light kiss over the top of the T.
“I didn’t put a T on your boob. I put it on my boob.”
“Get up here and kiss me, you crazy man.”
“Crazy for you.”
Our mouths devour each other’s as our hands explore one another. His kisses become so deep and demanding, my legs shake. Thank God I am lying down right now, or they would give out and I would fall to the floor.
Turner’s hands firmly grip my ass, lifting it up slightly, his erection long and hard tortuously circling close to the spot where I want him. Positioning himself on his knees, he spreads my legs wide.
“I want to make slow love to you, Clove. I want you to know how much I love you. I want to feel you while you coat me with your sweetness and then when you’re ready to come, I want to look into those stunning eyes of yours while you look into mine, so you never forget how much I fucking love you.”
When he says things like that, looks at me like I am his everything, I can’t speak. The only thing I can do is feel. Feel how much he loves me, and how much I love him.
He’s deliberately torturing me, dragging it out as his thumb circles my clit, making me want him, need him to be inside of me. When his finger slips inside, the only sound in the room is our heavy breathing and the sound of me getting wetter and wetter.
My orgasm tears through me, and this time I do let out a scream. I don’t have the chance to come down from my release before he replaces his finger with his dick and presses it ever so slowly inside of me, filling me with total bliss.
“God, you feel so good.”
His thrusts are slow; he swivels his hips, palms pressing into the cheeks of my ass. He makes me feel alive, cherished like a goddess. We converse with our eyes that we are one in this universe; partners in more than just a sexual way.
I lift my hips off the bed as he takes his sweet time driving into me. Sex with Turner is always mind-blowing. The way he touches me, telling me over and over every single time how much he loves me. It doesn’t matter if we’re making sweet love like we are now, or if he has me bent over the couch fucking me hard from behind, he never forgets to tell me.
“I love you so much!” he bellows, positioning me the way he wants me, hitting that perfect spot that brings me so close.
I feel him deep; my hands fist the sheets, my back arching even more if possible.
His eyes intensify, searing straight into my soul, and when we come together, he stills himself as if he’s savoring this moment, locking it away into his brain. He speaks one last time before releasing his hold, collapsing on top of me.
It’s those words that I wake up to in this hospital room, spoken by a voice I’ve been aching to hear for so long, the lines sweetened even more than before. I don’t turn to face him, but I take joy in hearing them, knowing he remembers them exactly as I do, the words that made me fall in love with him even more than possible that day.
“If I had to pick between living and dying, the choice would be easy, because true love never dies. No matter what, I will love you forever.”