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Loving Lily(58)

By:Pamela Ann


The thing I had learned about fear was that it didn’t fully grip you until you felt helpless, backed into a corner with everything to lose.

The day’s events were possibly too much for me to emotionally handle, and I went to bed fearing the one thing I had tried to forget.





Chapter 25

Drake



Getting out of the shower then quickly drying my hair with a towel, I recalled today’s events with elated gusto. Seeing our son was truly moving. What took me by bigger surprise, though, was how much I wanted to protect Lily.

Lately, she had been having a fragile look about her. I couldn’t help wanting to make sure she was okay most of the time. Not to mention the fact that, yes, as much as I wanted to remain hating her, I knew I no longer could, especially since she was going to bear me a child. How could a man hate a woman when they were putting their life at risk to give birth to their own flesh and blood? I certainly wasn’t one who could.

It was almost two in the morning, and I was about to turn on my laptop when I heard a toe-curling scream that made my blood spike with fear.

Sprinting out of the room, I immediately rushed into the master bedroom to see what was going on with Lily.

She appeared as if she was having a terrible nightmare, gripping the sheets as she cried bloody murder. “No—no—no!” she sobbed. “No!”

“Lily!” I started to shake her. “Wake up! You’re having a nightmare. Please, wake up!” I tried it a few more times, gently shaking her before she finally opened her eyes, eyes that had witnessed something horribly heartbreaking. “Lily, are you okay?” Brushing away the damp hair around her face, I took in how ghostly pale she looked before she dropped her eyes towards the sea of blankets and eerily peeled them off her body.

A strangled sound was caught in her throat when she opened her legs to check for something, but when she found it empty, she sobbed in my arms, clinging to me like a woman who had chased her worst nightmare away.

“Shhh … it’s okay,” I softly cooed, holding her close. “It was just a dream. Nothing will harm you.”

“It felt so real,” she hiccupped. “I was having a miscarriage. The first one I had. It started in the hospital’s chapel with me silently praying before it took me back to the old nursery room in my house. The blood pooled around my feet, seeping the life out of me.”

I hadn’t realized the first one had happened within the decorated nursery. No wonder she was adamant about waiting. Idiot me didn’t realize it soon enough.

“I’m sorry.” For everything I had done … For not seeing that, though she was as excited as I was about our baby boy, she remained on the fence until it was safe to say she had carried full term.

She cried harder in my arms.

Helpless and with not much to do to soothe her pain, I did what I was able to do—be there for her.

With her in my arms, I comfortably shifted us both in bed while hearing each cry tore me to pieces. There was something about the way she cried this time. It was as if she was experiencing the loss of that pregnancy once again.

My heart constricted like a hand had gone through my chest and squeezed it so hard it was making it harder for me to breathe. There was nothing I despised more than seeing her in so much pain. I felt like I wasn’t doing enough to make her feel better.

When I gently offered to get her something to drink, she declined it before continuing with her tears. “I don’t want to go through that again, Drake. I won’t be able to handle it.”

“You won’t. You know you won’t. These dreams resurfaced because you haven’t gotten over the first one. And, possibly, learning about our baby’s sex earlier today brought it to the surface.” Gently stroking her head, I lifted her chin towards me, needing to see her beautiful face. When our eyes connected, the comforting words I had meant to say to her suddenly evaporated from my lips, from my mind, because all I could think of was her and how much she affected me.

Lily…

Her name kept repeating in my mind. I surrendered to what I had been dying to do all along—to kiss her, thoroughly. Senselessly.

I cupped her face with one hand while she eagerly matched my passion, kissing me through her tears. The fervor in our kiss made me tremble inside. The desperation I had held onto over the months had all accumulated into one kiss—a vow. A promise. My anger. My love. All balled into one.

Fuck. I had to slow down, or I would be in danger of scaring her. That was the last thing I needed to do after what she had been through. I needed to show her just how much she meant to me.

However, my good intentions were instantly dashed when her hand went to the towel and gave my cock a promising squeeze, making me groan with unadulterated need to be inside her.