Chapter Twenty-Four
Mags
“When do you start teaching your class?” I asked, setting her plate down on the coffee table in front of her.
Diana cleared her throat as she set her beer beside it, leaning forward to grab her fork. “Monday.” I froze, and her hazel eyes flicked up to me. “My class is at eleven,” she tacked on.
We’d finally moved out of the bed an hour ago, and I drew us a bath, letting her soak in my arms for a while. I knew she was sore, not only from the fall, but from me. We were insatiable. The craving we had for one another had gone on for far too long, and I knew one weekend wasn’t going to be enough.
It would never be enough.
If I had it my way, Diana Harper would never leave Hallow Ranch again.
However, this was reality, and my woman had a business to run. “You need to go home tomorrow then,” I assumed, shoving my need to lock her away down.
My firefly nodded, running her hand through her wet hair. “Yeah, I have to prepare.”
I said nothing, returning to the kitchen to grab my dinner, and neither of us spoke again until I was in the chair across from her.
“Though, I’m only teaching one class this semester, and the first day is easy,” she rambled, moving her fork over the food I made her. “It’s just me going over the syllabus. You know, setting the tone,” she explained, popping a little red potato in her mouth.
My question came out easy, but guilt lingered on my tongue. “When did you start teaching?”
She blew out a breath and looked to the fire. “Uh, probably three years ago, maybe?”
The guilt moved the back of my throat, dropping down to my gut. This was going to be hard. I knew that, as did she, but fuck, if I didn’t feel like an asshole for not knowing. The words were out before I could stop them. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes held mine, firelight dancing across her skin. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered as she dropped her eyes. “I feel like we’ve wasted so much time.”
My plate was on the table in the next second, and a half second after that, I was on my knees in front of her, taking her plate away. “No. No, see, Firefly, we’re not going to do that,” I said, my voice thick, my hands on her thighs. “We can’t spend the rest of our time together regretting all the things we missed. That’s no way to start this.”
I watched her intently as she took a slow breath, her hands reaching for me. “Mags, I need to know what this is.”
“I told you what this was, baby,” I replied, my brows coming together.
“I need to hear it again,” she demanded.
I watched her, studying the fear in her eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” I ordered softly.
“The truth?”
“Always the truth, Firefly. Nothing else.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip, looking over to the fire. “Last night, I was sitting right here, silently wishing—praying--you would tell me you love me.”
My jaw tightened, but I waited. I wasn’t going to push her, not now.
“And now, I know what you taste like,” she whispered, looking at our hands. “I know what you feel like. I know how good it feels to be in your arms. I know you actually have the capability to laugh when you want.” She looked at me, tears in her eyes. “I know you love me.”
I nodded.
Her bottom lip trembled. “I also really don’t want to go back to reality. I want to stay—”
“This is our reality,” I told her roughly. “This is our fuckin’ reality, beautiful. You and me. There’s no going back.” My hands left hers so I could cup her face. “This isn’t a dream. This isn’t going to go away. You’re going to teach your class, run your firm, and I’ll be here, working on the ranch and building furniture.”
“But—”
“This is us , Firefly. This is you and me loving each other and building something together. This is you in my bed on the weekends and me in yours during the week.” She jerked slightly, but I kept on. “This is you taking me into Hayden and showing me around because, fuck, it’s time for me to leave this damn property. I know I’ll probably fuckin’ hate it and the nosy people in it, but if I’m your man, people in this town need to know that. I’m prepared to show them that. You deserve to be shown off, and I can’t do that by keeping you here, even though what I really want to do is chain you to my bed.” I paused, savoring the heat rising in her cheeks. “This is me introducing you to Carrie and Grayson when they come down. This is me letting you in. This is me giving myself to you and only you, because you’re the only woman I’ve ever fuckin’ loved. This is us becoming a family. This is me making love to you when we both need it, fuckin’ the bad days out of both of us. This is me getting to eat your sweet cunt whenever and wherever I want. This is you seeing me— all of me —like no one else has. This is me being your safe space and you being mine. This is us being together.”
“Mags,” she breathed out, eyes wide.
“You get me?” I pressed. “I need you to tell me you get me. If you don’t, then we have bigger problems.”
“I get you,” she whispered.
“You mine?” I clipped.
“Yes.”
“Am I yours?”
She nodded. “You’re mine, Mags. You’ll always be mine.”
Diana’s words hit me directly in the heart, pulling up a memory I’d long forgotten. Slowly, Diana and the cabin around me began to fade as I was sucked into a time I barely escaped.
Years ago. Three days post-discharge.
“You sure you’re alright?” Gray asked from the driver’s seat.
I looked over to him, silently thanking the extended prescription of pain medication from the Corp. This was my first time being back in the States in over a year. I missed the birth of my son, stuck in a hospital in overseas, and now, he was nearly six months old.
“Mags?”
I blinked, and everything came back into focus. Grayson was turned towards me, his arm resting on the top of the steering wheel, his brow pinched in concern. “Yeah, I’m alright,” I finally answered, clearing my throat and shifting my left arm. The burning was dull, but I knew once this round of meds wore off, the pain would be back in full force.
Grayson’s eyes flicked up to the small house he’d parked in front of. “You sure you don’t need me to come in, help Ashley get you settled?”
I shook my head. “No, I need to do this on my own,” I said gruffly, slowly bending and grabbing my bag I’d settled between my legs at the airport.
“You need me, you call me. Yeah?”
His question was left unanswered as I looked to the house, the place meant to be my home. I didn’t know this place. To me, it was just a building, but I was hopeful that, someday, the value would change. Without another word, I opened the door and got out of his truck. I swung my bag over my right arm, and crossed the yard, noticing how fresh the cut was.
More guilt, on top of all the rest, settled on my shoulders as my gut twisted.
I was about to meet my son.
The thought echoed in my head as I made it to the porch, pulling out the same set of keys I’d had since I enlisted, the house key beside my car key, an eight ball hanging beside it. I looked over to the garage door, knowing all the work I would need to do on the Mustang. Ashley had always been too scared to drive it, and I didn’t expected her to do anything with it when I was gone. She already had enough on her plate.
Sucking in a quiet breath, I held the key in front of the lock, hearing Grayson’s truck pull away from the curb.
My eyes closed as I forced myself to whisper the same three sentences I’d been trying to believe since I woke up in the hospital.
“Your life in the Marines is over.”
“Your life with Ashley and your son starts now.”
“You will be a good husband and father to both of them.”
As soon as the last word was off the tip of my tongue, I pushed the key into the door and twisted. There was music playing softly throughout the house, the scent of lemons hitting my nose as I quietly stepped in and just as quietly closed the door behind me. I walked into the living room, my bandages underneath my loose shirt rubbing against my healthy skin. I ignored the irritation, focusing on the nerves knotting in my stomach as I rounded the corner, expecting to see Ashley.
No one.
My eyes scanned over the tidied space, from the folded blankets on the back of the couch to the baby toys neatly packed in a small blue basket in the corner by the TV. My focus lingered on the baby swing by the window, a ray of sun hitting it just right as my heart began to pound in my ears. I remained in place, revisiting the last time I’d seen my wife. She had been a little over two months pregnant then, but neither of us knew it. I stood with her in the middle of the living room, dressed in my uniform, my bags by the door. She was numb to it all, just as I was. Same job, same struggles, different day.
She hadn’t even shed a tear for me like she had before.
No, she’d been numb then.
I remembered brushing some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear before kissing her forehead. I told her I’d call her when I got to base. She’d said okay. We didn’t even say ‘I love you.’
Things were going to be different now. For me. For her. For our little family. I was willing to do whatever it took to make her happy, even if that meant trying to fall in love with her all over again.
I moved into the kitchen, finding it spotless and empty. I shifted to the backyard, finding it mowed, the bushes along the back fence trimmed. More guilt hit me then, adding to the pile. She’d done a good job of taking care of our home while I was gone.
Now, it was my turn to take care of her.
Stifling a groan, I set my bag by the base of the stairs before climbing them quietly. They might be taking a nap, after all. On our last phone call, Ashley told me one of the nurses in the hospital told her mothers need to sleep when the baby sleeps. It was good advice, and I was happy to know she was taking it.
Once on the top stair, I looked to the left, my eyes on the cracked door at the end of the hall. The walls were painted a dove blue, soft playing music inside. Slowly, I walked to the door, every single inch of my body tight, braced for the unknown. I leaned forward, peeking through the gap, my eyes landing on the white crib against the far wall, a little human asleep inside.
My son.
He was on his stomach, butt in the air, feet curled under. His head was blocked by a stuffed teddy bear.
I wanted to see more of him, and my body moved before I could think. Pain shot through my left side as I pushed the door open with my left arm. I bit down, grinding my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut. A few seconds passed before the pain began to fade, and then I was tip-toeing across his room, coming to stop in front of his crib. My eyes locked on the boy and my stomach dropped, the floor underneath me about to collapse.
I heard soft laughter then, and I twisted my neck, looking over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing on the hallway. Before I could blink, I was out of the baby’s room and charging down to the opposite end of the hall. Another round of laughter fluttered through our bedroom door, and I stopped in my tracks, recognizing her voice.
“We can’t,” my wife rasped.
“Yes, we can. He won’t be up for another ten minutes,” a male voice argued.
I sighed deeply as I dropped my head, the truth not hitting like I expected. I expected the force of an oncoming train, but instead, it was like a small gust of wind: meaningless to some, but to others, it could shake their whole world.
I’d gotten my hopes up.
I’d been a fool.
I lifted my right leg and kicked the door in, the force of it shaking our wedding pictures on the wall. Ashley yelped, grabbing the sheet to cover herself as I stepped inside, my eyes on the man in my bed.
My wife said my name.
My old name.
My birth name.
A snarl left me as I pinned her in place with a glare. “Told you to never call me that again,” I clipped.
“M-Mags,” she stammered, correcting herself immediately, scrambling up to her feet, taking a sheet with her. The man in my bed scrambled to grab a pillow to cover his junk.
My wife was pretty, always had been. With her dark hair that matched mine and big, blue-gray eyes, it wasn’t hard for me to fall in love with her when we were sixteen. We both came from a small town, both desperate to get out of it. The easiest way for me to do that was to enlist in the Marines; not to mention, I wanted to get the fuck away from my father.
“Who is this, Ashley?”
My head ticked to the side as I looked at the man who’d been sleeping with my wife.
I looked back to Ashley. “That boy in there isn’t mine, is he, sweetheart?” I asked, my voice sweet.
“Mags,” she started, “please. I can explain. I—”
“Ash, who the hell is this guy?” the man barked. “Why is he asking about Miles?”
Miles.
So that was his name.
She’d refused to tell me his name in the hospital, saying she wanted it to be a surprise. I could give her that; after everything I’d put her through, I had to give her that. I knew she would do right by our boy.
But he wasn’t my boy at all.
“Miles,” I repeated, testing the name.
There were tears in my wife’s eyes now. “Mags, I didn’t know you were coming home today.”
“Thought I’d surprise my wife and son,” I shot back, watching her flinch.
“What the fuck?” the man whispered, suddenly looking green. He looked over to me, his eyes filled with regret. “You’re her dead husband?”
My brows lifted. “Dead husband, no.” I tilted my head. “Charred and burned husband, yes.”
“Mags,” she whimpered.
“Is that what she told you? That I died last year?” I quipped, my jaw hard as I kept my gaze on the stranger.
The man shook his head, confusion twisting his features. “Last year? No, man, she told me she’d been widowed for two years.”
If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would’ve laughed. “Right,” I muttered, reaching for the bottom of my shirt. I lifted it up, exposing my badges, my marks of honor. “I’ve been deployed for a while, and a few months back, I got hit by a bomb in the field. The Corp wouldn’t let me come home until the chance of infection was below a certain percentage. If they had, I wouldn’t have made the flight back,” my eyes cut to Ashley, “which would’ve made your little lie true, baby.”
“Stop,” she begged. “I didn’t—I just—well, what did you expect me to do, Mags?”
I stared at her, waiting for the remorse, the regret. When she gave me nothing, I shook my head, dropped my shirt and held up my hand, showing her the band on my fourth finger. “I expected my wife to honor the vows we both took in that shitty little court house years ago, Ashley. That’s the fuck I expected you to do.”
She stared at me, tears finally starting to form. Though, I didn’t know if they were for me or for the relationship I just ruined for her. “I was lonely,” she blubbered.
I chuckled. “You don’t know the meaning of the damn word.” I looked over at my replacement. “Leave her or stay, I don’t care, but you better take care of that boy, understood? I know he’s yours, but for the last six months, in my head, he was mine. You better fuckin’ do right by him, or I’ll kill you.”
My eyes shot back to her, and I twisted off the ring and tossed it on the bed. “You’ll get the papers in the mail. Keep the house. Keep the Mustang. I don’t give a shit. I’m done.”
I turned on my heel ,and I was gone.
“Mags!” she called after me, but I didn’t look back.
I was out of the door, bag on my shoulder, walking down the street into the sunset. As the miles stretched on, time passing me by without a second care, I waited for the heartbreak to come.
It never did.