Chapter 11
11
Anchor
Jackass. That is what my wife carved into the tank of my bike, and I can’t really blame her; from what she said at the therapist's office, she’s had to listen to shit from Ginger for years.
No wonder she didn’t want to give me another fucking chance. Between that whore and her mother, Heaven hit her limit, and add my fucking mother to mix, who believes Heaven should just take me back, my wife is done.
I lean against the door frame and watch her and Micha add toppings to the three pizzas they’ve just made from scratch together, hating the divide between us.
I know this is all my fault, but I wish she’d give me an inch to prove she can trust me.
Sighing quietly, I push off the door, walk back into the living area, and grab my phone, waking it up.
A picture of my wife and son from today, hugging after his win, comes into view, and I smile sadly before I find the number I want, pressing it, and putting the phone to my ear.
“Brother?” Steal answers after three rings.
“I need a favor, Colt,” I state, using his legal name so he understands how serious I am.
“You name it, Trav,” he replies, showing me we’re not talking as president or vice president right now.
“I need to decrease my hours at the club until I can win Heaven ‘round. The shit I told you about her mother was just the cake without the icing, brother. Turns out Ginger’s been saying shit and showing up wherever my wife is, including today at the grocery store.”
“You got it. Just be at the club for church, and I’ll come up with the excuse the tattoo shop is busy, and as for Ginger, I’ll place her on household chores only; if any brother touches her, they’ll be demoted to prospect, and she’ll be kicked out once you’ve got Heaven back. I can’t do it until you come clean with the brothers, but we’ll get her out, brother,” he promises, and I sigh in relief.
“Thank you, Colt,” I answer before hanging up and looking toward the kitchen door. I smile, seeing my wife giggle and run away from our son, who is chasing her with flour on his hands.
This is the life that we should be having at home, the one I built for them, but we’re not. I just have to fight harder….
“Right, go wash up before the pizzas are finished,” Heaven says with a laugh to our son, who grins and does as he’s told, high- fiving me on the way past, and getting flour all over me, making me laugh.
Fuck, I love that kid, and yes, I feel fucking guilty for being jealous that he took his mother's attention from me when, in reality, he never did, just like she said today at therapy. She was always there for me, not just to wash my clothes, clean our house, or cook my food while heavily pregnant, but also to look after a newborn when I was busy.
She’d always lean into me on the couch while she fed Micha, cuddle me all night long, ask me about my day, question how the brothers were doing.
She was perfect, and I was a blind, immature fucker.
Clearing my throat to dislodge the lump forming, I move into the kitchen and grab the wet wipes, helping my wife clean up our son’s mess.
She sides-eyes me but doesn’t say anything, not that I can blame her, so I speak up first.
“Ginger has been placed on household chores only. She fucks someone, she’ll be banned from the club, and the brother will be demoted to prospect.”
Heaven whips her head my way in shock, and I shrug. “Whether you believe it or not, in the eyes of Steal, Acid, Piston, and my dad, you are an old lady. Yes, the brothers are not aware of your existence, and yes, Art believes we broke up, but that was because I was a prospect at the time, Angel.”
She frowns, and finally, I see the curiosity, something she hasn’t allowed herself to feel about me in a very long time. Hope builds as she asks, “What do you mean?”
I throw the wipes in the trash and walk over to her, gently wiping the flour off her cheek. She doesn’t flinch away from my touch; instead, she leans into it, making everything ease for me.
I explain, “The club had traitors at the time, something none of my generation knew about. My dad suggested I lie to Art and keep you a secret for your safety. I listened to him, mainly because I knew I couldn’t give you an old lady patch until after my prospecting phase, meaning you wouldn’t be protected by the club, just like I listened to him to continue with school after we had found out about Micha, something I regret every day, by the way.”
Her eyes tear up, and I sigh before gently kissing her forehead. I whisper, “I had planned to tell the brothers when I got my cut, but then we argued because I was an insensitive prick, not thinking of you and how you felt leaving our son for the first time, or the fact that we were supposed to be celebrating a whole fucking year of marriage, and now, because of me and my stupidity, we’ve missed out on celebrating nine more.”
Heaven removes herself from my hold when we hear our son's loud as fuck footsteps, and she huffs, “He did not get that from me.”
I grin, not arguing with her because, let’s face it, he totally got it from me as he shouts, “Dad, come play a game with me!”
I turn and look at him to see him setting up a soccer videogame. “I’ll be there in a minute, bud,” before I look at my wife who seems to be in her own world.
“Talk to me, Angel,” I demand softly, and she looks my way, and the look in her eyes fucking guts me.
She’s confused, hurt, indecisive, angry, sad….
She’s struggling with her emotions, and I know I’m to blame.
“You messed with my birth control pills again, didn’t you?” she confirms, and I shrug, not denying it.
“I need you, Heaven; I’ve told you that repeatedly,” I answer.
She shakes her head. “But what does bringing another child into the world have to do with it, Travis?”
I walk over to her, cup her cheek, and admit, “Because the more kids you have, the greater the chance you’ll take me back.”
Her tears fall. “And what about my career, Travis? I’ve put my life on hold for you once; why on earth should I again when you you hurt me?”
“Angel,” I rasp with pain.
She sniffles. “I don’t know how, even with therapy, I can get over what you did. It’s been ten years, and all I see is the look of pleasure on your face, and yet you are trying to trap me….”
“Dad?” I hear shouted, and Heaven moves out of my space, wiping her cheeks. She goes to the stove and says, “You should go to him.”
I nod, even though she’s not looking at me, and decide to do as she asks, knowing she needs a minute, something she hasn’t had since before the therapist's office. I walk into the living area, taking a seat next to my son, scared shitless there’s no winning my girl ‘round.
Maybe I should have tried harder straight away instead of giving her fucking space after I fucked up.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Micha says as he passes me a controller, "Mom hasn’t had another date since some guy spilled hot pasta sauce all over the last one.”
I give my son a grin, hoping my worry and fear don’t show in my eyes, and I state, “That is good to know, bud. Now, let’s see if you can kick my butt.”
He grins wide, a grin that’s so much like mine, and states, “I always kick your butt, old man.” I laugh, knowing he has no idea I let him win every time, something my beautiful wife has discouraged me from doing, not wanting our son to grow a big head.
Too late….
Chuckling at how quickly he fell asleep, I shut my son’s bedroom door after wishing him a good night, and head down the hallway to see my wife.
I know we can’t have sex, something the therapist also agreed about, but I’m not leaving tonight. I want to hold her in my arms, but I know I have a fight to get into that bed with her.
I walk into the living area but frown when I don’t see her, so I head to the kitchen, but again, there is no sign, and I start to panic until I see her silhouette in the yard, sitting on the deck steps. I sigh with relief.
Grabbing a beer out of her fridge, I frown at how empty it is before I turn and walk outside.
“Why don’t you have food in the fridge, Angel?” I ask as I close the door and take a seat beside her.
“I haven’t had the chance to do a big trip. I was supposed to today, but obviously, you know what happened,” she replies, not looking at me, focusing on the lit-up night sky.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, Heaven. I don’t know how many more times I can say it, but I will continue until you believe it.”
She nods before looking my way, her tears breaking my heart as she asks, “How am I supposed to look after two children, Travis, when I don’t trust you anymore? Bringing up one was hard enough, especially with the constant calls from your mother telling me to grow up.”
Fucking Mom….
I flinch at her words but reply, “By learning to build that trust for me again, to lean on me. But Heaven….” My words trail off when I realize what she just asked, and my eyes widen in shock. I stutter, “Are you, I mean, you’re….”
She nods slowly. “I’m pregnant. According to the test I took when we got back from the game, I'm roughly eight weeks.”
My mouth parts in shock, and I confirm, “But you had a period.”
She nods again. “A light one, yes, which is something that can happen during the first trimester, so thanks, Travis. I’ve just applied for several jobs, and you’ve purposely knocked me up. As usual, it’s always about what you want, not me. Your mom called me the selfish one for keeping our family divided, yet the only selfish one I see right now is you.”
I wince at her words. I know she’s right, but I also know she wants me. She just has to open her eyes and her heart to realize this.
“Angel, please. I know I fucked up, but I miss my wife, and if you’d just lean on me a little and put everything on me this time, you’ll have your career. You gave up so much when we had Micha, now it’s my turn, and I know I can earn your trust back, even if I have to get Piston to set up the camera feed on your phone so you can watch what I do, I’ll fucking do it.” I grip her chin and force her to look my way, and I say, “All I’m asking for is a chance. We’re doing therapy, you’re allowing me here for dinner in the evenings but, selfishly, I need more, I want more, but only with you.”
She sniffles. “We’re not having sex, Travis. You’ve already knocked me up.”
I smile and say, "But you can let me hold you at night. You can allow me pillow talk, to get to know my strong wife again, and fall even more in love with her.”
Her eyes race between mine before she says, “I don’t want anyone knowing about the baby, especially our moms.”
I nod, knowing this has to be kept hush-hush, and gently lean forward, pressing my lips against hers. I promise, “It will be kept between us, I promise, but I’m still sleeping in our bed.”
She snorts, and I kiss her hard.
I won’t lose this girl, or our children….
I deepen the kiss before I peck her one, two, three more times, then stand up. I pick her up bridal style, making her gasp.
I whisper, “In order for your trust to rebuild, you need to let me in, Angel. Can you do that?”
She wraps her arms around my neck, her beautiful eyes racing between mine, and she answers, “I can try.”
And I smile, knowing it’s better than nothing, and a little hope builds….