"No, it's ok." I sighed, trying to put into words everything my mind had been sifting through for the last couple of days. "I'm forgiving myself for getting pregnant in the first place. I'm forgiving myself for blaming myself for the miscarriage. That wasn't my fault." I felt a wave of emotions wash over me when I heard the words come out of my mouth, and I stifled back a small cry.
"Oh, Bit. I wish I was there with you right now," he said painfully. I could hear the ache in his voice, the discomfort that came with wanting to be near me. Again, I was denying him the ability to be with me.
"I need to forgive myself for not being with my dad when he died. For putting that distance between us, for building the kind of relationship with him that he didn't think he could tell me he was dying." The cries came for real then and I couldn't control them. Tears streaked my face and all I heard from the other end of the phone was Asher's voice whispering comforting words and hushing me. When I'd calmed down a little, Asher's voice was there to bring me back.
"Babe, he didn't keep his illness from you because he felt like he couldn't tell you. He kept it from you because he didn't want you to suffer through another parent's death. Trust me, I tried to convince him many times to call you and tell you, but he was trying to protect you."
I took his words in and tried to process them. I knew my dad would have done anything to keep me safe and to protect me from harm, but now I'd never know what might have happened if I'd been more present, if I'd been less distant.
"I know you're right, Asher. It's just something that's going to take some time to get over."
"It's another one of those things that you can't blame yourself for, Bit. Your father was a grown man and he knew what decisions he was making. Don't turn his actions around and make them into something you have to feel sorry about. That's not what he'd want."
"I know," I whispered. After a few moments Asher let out a frustrated growl.
"This is killing me. I need to see you. I can't be so far away from you when I know you're hurting." I smiled and wiped residual tears from my face.
"I'm ok, Asher. This is all part of the process. We both need this. If we're going to be together after this, we both need to move on from everything, start over."
"I know you're right. I just want to hold you. I want to smell you and touch you." I shivered at his words. His voice was deeper and I knew his intentions weren't just to comfort me, but to make me feel him.
"I want that too," I whispered.
"Can I ask you a question now?" I blinked in surprised, thrown off by the quick directional change of our conversation.
"Of course," I replied.
"Have you seen David since you've been back?"
I nearly laughed at his question, but had enough sense not to. But I did grin stupidly. He'd always been so territorial over me. Thinking about him worrying over whether or not some other man was near me or talking to me made my heart rate spike. I wanted him to assert himself over me, to be possessive.
"No."
"Does he know you're back?"
"I don't know what he knows. I didn't tell him. But he knows I have a show coming up, and he probably figures I'm in town preparing."
"Will you see him?"
"Not on purpose."
"Do better than that, Bit."
"I have no desire, whatsoever, to see David while I am here, or ever. He's a part of my past, Asher. I never loved him. I used him and I am ashamed of that. He deserved way better than I gave him and I wish him all the happiness in the world, but I don't want him." Asher was quiet and I let him digest my words.
"How long were you with him?"
"Five years."
"Shit … that's a long time."
"It was."
"Well, I can tell you one thing. I know how men work, and if he had you for five years there's no way he's going to just let you go – no one could just give you up. If he knows you're in town, he's going to try to contact you."
"And if he does, I'll tell him I've moved on and that we can't see each other anymore."
"Your show is Saturday, right?"
"Yes."
"Do you miss me?" Again I was startled by the turn in the conversation.
"Desperately," I answered honestly.
"Oh, you're desperate, are you?" His voice took on a flirty tone.
"Mm hmm." I moaned a little, trying to bait him.
"Shit, Bit. Your voice is really sexy on the phone. I remember all those times we talked on the phone while I was away over the summers. I always had a hard-on talking to you."
Hook, line, and sinker.
"Do you enjoy phone sex?" I rasped at him.
"No," he said quickly.
"No?" I said, surprised and in my normal voice, all sexy raspiness gone. "What do you mean no? What kind of red-blooded, American man are you?"
"Don't go getting all offended on me, Babe. I just like the real thing better. Phone sex is like teasing my cock. He gets all worked up expecting something soft and warm and all he gets is my hand. It's mean."
"Oh my God." I laughed at his words – big, loud fits of laughter. I rolled on the bed until I was on my back, the laughter taking over my body. I cried from all the laughing. "You might be the only man on the planet to ever say that," I cried as I wiped the tears from my face.
"Think about it. You're sitting there, all alone in your hotel right now. I could use my voice to turn you on," he said, his voice going soft and slow, dropping to a gravelly timbre. "I could tell you how much I wanted you, how badly I need to be inside of you. I could talk about my tongue flicking over your nipples, about my hands gripping your ass as I rubbed myself against you."
I gulped at his words, swallowed any laughter that remained and replaced with panting breaths.
"I could talk about grabbing your hair, holding you in place, while I sank into you from behind, rocking you back and forth, hitting every spot you love that I remember."
"Fuuuck … " I groaned, rolling to my side and squeezing my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was pounding between my legs.
"Now tell me, Bit. Which sounds better right now?"
"Mmmm … " I mumbled in response.
"Your tiny fingers? Or my cock?"
"Shit."
"That's right. You want my cock. But I'm so far away."
"You're an ass."
"Perhaps," he said with a laugh. "But you love me."
"Perhaps," I said with a smile.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie
After Asher and I hung up that night, I couldn't keep my thoughts from my father and of what Asher tried to convince me. My mind fluttered to the letter my dad left for me, the letter he wrote to me before he died. I kept it in the top drawer of my dresser in my hotel room. I peeled myself off the bed and walked to the dresser, slowly pulling open the drawer. I moved aside the undergarments that I used to cover it, although, covering it was useless as I always knew it was there. It might as well have been smoking and red hot for how it seemed to burn in my mind. It pulsed. I was aware of it always. I reached for it, hand trembling, not sure if I was ready to read the last words my father had for me.
Slowly, I peeled back the lip of the envelope and saw a piece of paper with indentions all over it from the pen marks my father made. A small cry escaped me as I came to terms with the fact my father held this paper in his hands, wrote this for me. I was suddenly angry I didn't read it sooner.
I pulled the paper out, opened it, and sat down in the big arm chair in the corner of the suite, curling my legs up under me, trying to get comfortable.
My Dear Charlie Bear,
Just the salutation reduced me to tears. I smiled through the sobs, remembering and loving the nickname my father had for me my entire life, no matter how old I was or how mad I made him.
The first thing I want to say to you is that I'm sorry. I know it will be hard for you to understand my decision to keep my illness from you and part of me is very sorry to put you in this situation. But there's a bigger part of me, the Daddy part of me, that knows this was the least painful way to leave you. I watched you hold your mother's hand while she was sick and I know what that did to both of you. I couldn't put you through that again. Know that you were with me the entire time, and that I thought of you until the end. I never loved anyone the way I loved you, Charlie Bear, and I am so lucky that I got to be your father.
In time you will heal and the sadness will fade away. Trust me. I want you to move on from this and live a good life. I am not afraid to die, Charlie. I know that when I go I will get to see your momma and the two beautiful babies that neither of us got to meet. I will hug them and tell them how much their mother loves them, Charlie. Your mother and I will take care of them for you.