Without the chance to say anything else, he pushed into me painfully and pleasurably as if he were trying to rip me apart only to build me back up.
Tilting my head back, I pushed against him wanting everything he could give me. In seconds, I felt the distinct flutter in my belly. A zing ran through me leaving my senses fried. My breaths were pants, and as he slapped a hand against my ass, I continued to urge him on.
“Beautiful. Fucking. Beautiful.” He somehow got out as he clamped onto my hips, bruising them.
Spurts of hot semen entered me, and as he pulled out, I felt as if I had lost a part of me. As if this was the last time I would see this man for who he was.
“Remember, no matter what, I love you, Bree. I always have, I always will. Okay?” His lips found my forehead, and for some odd reason, I said yes—not thinking this might be the last time I would see him alive.
As he dried off, I felt him pulling away from me. Why? I didn’t know. The butterflies in my stomach just moments before were now replaced with worry and doubt.
“Are you okay?” I asked finally getting the courage to do so.
“Just fine,” he said smirking. It wasn’t a real one though; no, this was the mask of the man I had grown to know. I knew whatever was going on wasn’t going to be good. In the throes of passion, nothing seemed wrong, but now thinking about it, it was. It was so different.
“Is something going on? You’re acting strange… Did the plan change? Did I do something?” The horror of actually doing something wrong crept up on me like a disease.
“Just get ready for the day, Bree,” he simply said, dismissing every single question I had thrown at him. Confusion wasn’t even the word I would use to describe how he made me feel. Just moments ago, I had never felt so close to someone, and now—now, I felt as if we were oceans apart.
Slowly, I pulled myself together. I brushed my teeth. My hair. I was trying to mend my fragile heart so he couldn’t see the hurt he was causing me. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t because he wanted to—or at least I would keep telling myself that until I knew the truth. A soft knock sounded against the bedroom door.
“Come in,” I mumbled, picking up one my many books I had somehow managed to get here. It was strange how much pleasure reading could bring you. It could pull you from your current life and make all the pain go away.
I heard the creak of the door as my eyes lifted to meet James coming in the room. He looked wearily around the room as if I were going to lash out at him.
“Can I come in? I just want to talk to you for a second.” He hesitated for a moment, which only made my curiosity grow. What did he want to talk about? I thought we already said everything we needed to say.
“Sure,” I said smiling.
He crossed the threshold closing the door firmly behind him. It was then the walls felt as if they were closing in on me. John’s death was still fresh in my mind and even if James was my father, it was hard for me to see things like that yet.
“I just wanted to see how you were handling everything? If you had any questions?” His eyes smiled. Literally smiled, as if he were happy for the first time in his life. I knew I meant something to him—that finding me, alive and well, was something he never expected.
“I’m handling it…” I mumbled over my words. How was I handling it?
“You know... you don’t have to handle it alone. I am here for you. I want to be here for you, but you have to allow me to be.”
I looked at him sideways for a moment as he stood in front of me. Was I really not allowing myself to let him in or to heal after all the damage had taken place?
“I know… I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. It’s like part of me thinks it’s all a lie, maybe even a dream. Like somehow I’ll wake up from it all and things will be different.” I shrugged my shoulders.
He smiled softly. “I used to think the same thing when I found out your mother was dying. When I found out about you… My heart broke… To have something truthfully yours ripped from you.” My eyes began to sting with unshed tears threatening to fall.
He knew heartache. His was different from my own, but he still knew it. It seemed as if we were two sides of the same coin. The same book just different stories.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I never knew, and had I known, I would’ve said something. I would’ve done something. I loved John because he was all I had, but if I had known you were my father... if I knew your blood ran through my veins too, I would’ve made an effort to be part of your life.” The words left not only my mouth, but also my heart as I spoke them to the father I never knew I had.