Chapter 43 #2
“Thank you, Matt.” My smile’s soft, warmth spreading through my chest as I fight the rush of emotion.
Jensen leans forward, elbows on his knees, gaze locked on me.
“I don’t need to dig through memories. Every one with you is my favorite.
Even the ones where you’re mad at me.” He smirks, drawing a few chuckles from the patio.
His hand finds mine, squeezing tight. “Because those moments brought us here. To this. You. Me. Our life together. Every day with you is an adventure. And every moment that becomes a favorite is only trumped by another the very next day.” His eyes shine.
“I love you. And I’m excited for this new chapter with you.
” He glances around the group. “With all of you.” Then his gaze returns to mine. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Yep. This is it. It’s all I’ll ever need. This. Him. Right here.
I finish bringing the last of the food inside, sorting it into containers and packing them into the fridge. It’s late, and I’m wiped—pregnancy’s kicking my ass. Matt and Jensen are still outside talking, and everyone else has gone home.
Tonight was perfect. Friends, family, laughter, even a few heated cornhole matches. It filled my birthday cup in every way imaginable.
I tug the overflowing trash bag from the bin, tie it tight, and head for the front door. As I round the corner, I almost collide with my dad.
“Holy shit, Dad! You scared me.” A breathless laugh escapes. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
He chuckles softly. “Sorry.” He sets down the framed picture that sits on the console table. His voice is quiet, reverent. “I was just looking at this picture of your mother.”
I study him, somber and distant. He forces a smile, but it drops as quickly as it comes, like holding it hurts.
The sight knocks the wind from me. My eyes burn, vision blurring as the ache swells sharp in my chest, stealing my breath. “I… miss her,” I whisper, voice thick and shaky.
Dad takes a deep breath, then exhales—slow, cheeks puffed, eyes brimming with tears. “I miss her too, Alley girl.” The words break on a strangled cry, and it guts me. She never got to see this. Him, sober. Me, married. The grandkids.
I take a shaky breath. “She’d be so proud of you, Dad.” My lips press tight as I try to hold myself together, but it’s useless—my birthday, the pregnancy hormones, the exhaustion. It all crashes over me.
He chuckles through his tears, voice rough. “No. It’s you she’d be proud of. And dammit, it kills me she’s not here to see it. It should’ve been me. You all needed her. And I’ll never understand why it was her and not me.”
I don’t argue. I don’t need to. He knows we’re grateful he’s here. He knows we want her back. He knows he’s just giving voice to the thoughts that haunt him.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, needing to give him something good, something light in this moment, and hoping Jensen won’t mind I told him first.
A grin spreads across his face, breaking through the tears. He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “That’s the best damn news I’ve heard all year. Congratulations, Alley girl. You’re going to be a wonderful mother. I’m so happy for you both.”
I press my ear against his chest, squeezing tight. “Thanks, Dad. You’re already a wonderful grandpa.”
We stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the quiet of the house pressing in around us as we stare at my mother’s picture. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like enough—even without her. Because I know, wherever she is, she’s proud of us.
She’s proud of me.
I wake to Jensen in the bathroom and glance at my phone. It’s 1:06 a.m. I’d crawled into bed and passed out the minute my dad left.
A few minutes later, the bathroom light flips off and Jensen slides in quietly beside me.
“Did Matt just barely leave?” I murmur.
“Yeah. A few minutes ago.” He scoots in close, his arm slipping around my waist and pulling me against him. “Did I wake you?”
“Yes, but it seems like every little thing wakes me lately.” I yawn softly. “Guess it’s practice for never sleeping again once we have the baby.”
A low chuckle rumbles through his chest as his hand finds mine, weaving our fingers together and resting them on my stomach.
“I can’t wait to meet the little guy.”
“Little guy?”
He laughs. “Well, I don’t want to keep saying the baby, and it doesn’t feel right to call it an it. So until we know—he’s little guy.”
My bottom lip rolls through my teeth as my grin spreads wide. “Whatever you say, babe.”
His lips press softly against my neck, trailing down to my shoulder blade. “Did you have a good birthday?” he murmurs, breath warm against my skin.
“Mmhmm.” I press back against his sturdy frame, settling into the comfort of his arms.
“That’s good.”
“I told my dad I’m pregnant,” I blurt, and he stills. “I’m sorry. We were having a moment, missing my mom and crying together. I just… needed to give him something good. Something happy.” The silence stretches, heavy. My stomach knots. God, did I ruin it?
Then his hand slides up my stomach, over my breasts, to my cheek. He cups it gently, turning me toward him. His eyes search mine for a beat before he lays me flat and presses his lips to mine, firm and certain. “Was he excited?”
His mouth moves against mine, tongue teasing.
“Yes,” I whisper between kisses. “You’re not mad?”
“Nope.” He kisses me deeper, his palm closing over my breast. “I could never be mad at you.”
I snort, the moment breaking as I grin against his lips. “That’s so not true. I could name a dozen things right now that would make you mad at me.”
He shakes his head, amused. “Name one.”
“Um, okay. What if I sent that dick pic you sent me the other day to the family group text?”
“That wouldn’t make me mad. Embarrassed? Maybe. But mad? Nah. That’s fucking funny.”
“What it I posted it to social media?”
“Wouldn’t blame you. It’s a good dick.”
“Oh my God!” I grin wider. “And if I sold your basketball cards?”
“Okay, you win.” He kisses me. “I’d be pissed if you sold my cards.” His chuckle vibrates against my mouth as his lips slide down my jaw to my ear, tongue flicking against the shell. His voice drops. “Now will you stop talking so I can give you the best damn birthday orgasm a girl could ask for?”
Butterflies flicker low, heat swirling as his hand slips between my thighs, and I gasp. “Yes. I’ll be quiet.”
He chuckles against my ear, voice dark and low. “I didn’t say anything about being quiet.”
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, then slides a finger inside me, curling it just right. A moan tears out of me, and his grin turns wicked as his mouth claims mine.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs against my lips, smug.
He eases his finger free, slow and deliberate, then pulls my shirt up over my head. His mouth trails down my chest, teasing, lingering, sucking at my nipples until I’m writhing beneath him. Then he shifts lower, kisses skimming down my stomach, heading south—
“Wait, babe.”
He stills immediately, eyes flicking up to mine.
“Just kiss me a little longer,” I whisper. “I want to make out for a bit first… then you can do whatever you want to me.”
A slow grin spreads across his face as he presses a tender kiss to my belly, his palm rubbing gently over it like he’s already imagining our baby there. Then he shifts up, hovering over me. His eyes lock with mine, lingering, admiring. “You’re my favorite person, Al.”
“You’re mine too,” I whisper.
His lips find mine, slow at first, and I kiss him with everything in me. My arms loop around his neck, anchoring myself to him as his mouth moves over mine—warm, steady, sure. For a heartbeat the noise of the world drops away and it’s just us and the thrum of his pulse against my palms.
Memories crash through in a rush, the good and the bad, reminding me of how we got here. Our first kiss. First sleepover. All the times he made me laugh. The times he made me cry. When being with Jensen was the safest thing in the world.
When it wasn’t.
When I did everything right and everything went wrong.
When he came back for me…
I never thought I was the one who needed saving, but God, he rescued me. Pulled me from the sad hole I’d buried myself in and showed me how to live again. How to breathe. How to laugh. How to love.
He saved me. Saved us.
And I’ll never forget it.
Our kisses turn hot, desperate, full of need for one another.
What we share is rare. A once-in-a-lifetime love.
A love so deep it hurts.
A love that’s been shaken to the core.
Battered. Bruised.
A love that felt too good to be true.
A love that broke us.
A love that saved us.