Lust(57)

"You really mean that?" I couldn't help but ask, needing her confirmation to reassure my struggling mind.

Ivy nodded and smiled. "I really mean that, Cade. I mean all of it."

"Are you doing this because you want a baby? Because, I have to be  honest with you, Ivy, I am not ready for a baby right now. If it happens  then I won't regret it, but I won't go trying to have one any time  soon."

She laughed and the skin around her eyes crinkled. "I'm on the same page  as you are about babies. Trust me when I tell you that. I'm just now  getting used to living with you, I have no desire to add a baby to the  mix. Not to mention, I'm still struggling with the fact that I have a  fifty percent chance of having a girl and I don't know if I can handle  that fact."

I was relieved until she threw that last part in there. I had no idea  she had any insecurities about having a girl. My relief quickly turned  to concern. "What do you mean by that? Why couldn't you handle having a  girl?"

"Oh, you know …  girls are trouble. They're moody and hormonal." She tried to laugh but I could see right through it.

"No. That's not why. Just tell me, Ivy." I started to get really  worried. When there was a chance of Ivy being pregnant, there was a part  of me that loved the idea of having a little Ivy someday. And ever  since we realized she wasn't, I held on to that dream of one day having a  daughter that I could spoil as much as I spoiled her mother.

She huffed and looked down, but before I could raise her chin, she  lifted her head and looked me right in the eyes. "I am scared I'll turn  out to be like my mother. Even just a little bit. And the last thing I  ever want to do is make my daughter feel the way mine made me feel."

I took her face in my hands and pulled her face closer to mine, touching  the tip of her nose with mine. "You have nothing to worry about." It  wasn't much of a consolation, but it was all I could give. I felt with  every fiber of my being that she would never turn out to be her mother.

She pulled back and pulled a weak smile to her face. "Back to my original question …  where do you see us in a year?"

"Here. I see my practice being successful. I see us being successful. Happy."

She smiled. "What about in five years?"

I had to think about that. Five years. That would put me dangerously  close to forty. "Again, I see us here, happy, successful. I see my  practice being successful with possibly a partner or two. I see a ring  on your finger and at least one toddler running around."

Her eyes glistened like sparkling silver. "I agree. But I am serious, the ring doesn't mean anything to me."

"It does to me," I answered. "It's a symbol of owning you for eternity."

"But that's just it, Cade. It's only a symbol. It's something that can  be taken off. And that's always been your issue with marriage, right?  That it's not always permanent? So why would a ring mean anything to  you?"

A thought entered my head and I couldn't keep the smile from my face.  "When the time is right to pledge ourselves to one another for all of  eternity, I know just how we'll do it. It won't be in a church, it won't  matter how many people are there, you can even wear a white dress, and  it won't be something that can be easily removed."

"What is it?" she asked with a smile.

"You'll see …  when the time is right."

*****

"I, Caden Alan Morgan, choose you, Ivy Marie Jaymes, to be my wife in  the only way that matters. To have and to hold in darkness and light, in  sickness and health, for better or for worse, to own and cherish, from  this day forward until the end of eternity. I vow to honor and respect  you, protect and comfort you from here on out," I vowed to Ivy as we sat  in the front seat of my car in front of a tattoo parlor.         

     



 

Eight months after living together, the time was right and I asked Ivy  to promise herself to me forever. I didn't have a ring and we had no  intention of going to the courthouse. We didn't plan to sign papers or  have witnesses. We didn't need them. All we needed were each other and  the commitment we made to one another.

Ivy knew I loved her, and I knew she loved me, but neither of us focused  on that. We had both loved deeply and lost more than our fair share in  life, so marriage was tainted to each of us. We had both lost our  parents at such young ages. We had both been through more pain as  children, far more than anyone should have to endure.

She repeated her own vows to me. "I, Ivy Jaymes, take you, Caden Morgan,  as my husband in every meaning of the word. I promise to trust you with  my darkness and give you my light. I vow to give you all of me to own  until the end of infinity."

I gave her a kiss and then stepped out of the car, walking over to the  passenger side to let her out. She was wearing a simple white dress that  hung casually to her feet. The moment I told her my idea of our  wedding, she jumped on it …  and on me. She loved it and I loved her for  it. There was nothing more perfect for us.

With her hand in mine, I walked into the tattoo parlor and told the  receptionist that we were there for our appointment. She looked us up  and down, checking out our attire, before taking us around back to a  small room. Ivy and I grinned at each other the entire time we each had  the word "owned" permanently set into the skin on our left fourth  finger. It would never be able to come off, and it was better than any  church wedding in any book either of us had read.

My impromptu admission of owning one another became our thing. She owned  my heart, and that meant she had my love. But it went beyond that. If I  owned her, that meant I'd take care of her, I would protect her, and do  everything in my power to make her happy. My cousin thought it was  strange that we used that term instead of the typical I love you …  but  that was just it. Ivy and I weren't typical. Nothing about us or our  relationship was typical or cliché. Our definition of "owned" was  different than others. We didn't see each other as an object to possess.  We saw each other as our keepsakes, one that we each wanted to cherish  forever, for all of eternity. But it didn't matter what other people  thought of our terminology; we knew what it meant. It was our own  special language that only we alone could translate. We owned each  other, mind, body, heart, and soul. This was even more important than  love. Neither of us wavered about that. We had been through enough to  know how lucky we were to have found one another. It was as if we were  each other's missing puzzle piece and now that we were together,  everything was finally complete.

"You own me, Mrs. Morgan," I said against her lips as the machine buzzed in the background.

"I'm yours, Mr. Morgan," she whispered back, pressing her lips to mine one last time.





Two Years Later



I woke up in the middle of the night and the spot on the bed next to me  was empty. Instead, all I found were a pile of pillows were her body  usually was. I immediately began to panic. The bathroom light was off  and the house seemed quiet. Normally, I heard when she got up to use the  bathroom or head to the kitchen for a glass of water, but for some  reason, I had slept right through her escape from the bed this time.

I got up and frantically started searching, not bothering to put clothes on.

She had been quiet lately-too quiet. And I had already taken her to the  hospital twice this week. It was easy for my mind to go to the dark  corners first, immediately thinking the worst. I scoured the house until  I found her in the office. It should have been the first place I  checked, but it was the furthest room from ours, so it was the last room  I made it to.

She was sitting behind her computer screen with tears in her eyes and a  scowl on her face. I didn't waste another second before running to her  and kneeling on the floor next to her chair. "Ivy, are you okay? Is  everything okay?"

She nodded and winced, not taking her eyes from her computer screen.

I spun the chair around, forcing her to look at me. "You're in pain. How  long has this been going on for? This looks worse than the last time."

"It started about three hours ago, but I didn't want to wake you up only  for them to send us home again. I thought I'd come in here, work on a  few things, and wait it out before I did anything. You've barely gotten  any sleep and I just wanted to wait to see if it got worse before I woke  you up again."

"How far apart are they?"

"Twenty-three words."         

     



 

I looked at her with confusion all over my face. I didn't understand.  But then again, if Ivy was in front of her computer, that meant she was  working. And when she was working, she had no sense of time. It was  impossible to ask her to time something when she was in that frame of  mine. Once, she burnt noodles because she decided to work while waiting  for it to finish boiling.