Mr and Mrs (Promises 1)

Turning, I head out of our room and down the hallway. I pass an office and a spare room. Everything is just white and plain. No real life to it. It doesn’t feel like home.

Until I hit the living room and see painting after painting on the floor, carefully propped up against the wall. They look like they need to be hung. All over them are images of Phillip and me. I wonder if they’re moments in our lives I can’t remember. I just stand and study them. They are stunning.

“They’re yours,” Phillip says, and I look over my shoulder to see him standing behind me.

“I painted them?” I look back at the paintings, hoping to remember something, but nothing comes. They feel right though. Not like this condo. “I must really like you,” I say teasingly, turning to look at him again. His hair is wet from the quick shower he must have taken, and he’s only wearing a pair of jeans.

Something flashes in his eyes as he looks back to the paintings like he’s never seen them before.

Chapter Ten

Phillip

I knew Carl had said all the paintings were of me, but I had no idea. It was like I’d filled her every thought like she does mine. That cools some of the bitterness that still rides me. When I’d woken this morning and she wasn’t in bed, I’d almost lost it.

I was shocked I hadn’t felt her leave the bed to begin with, but last night was the best night of sleep I’d had in what felt like an entirely. With her in my arms, I drifted right off to sleep. Knowing she was safe. That I had her back and she would never be leaving me again.

I should’ve felt guilt that I hadn’t woken her when I came back to bed after making her something to eat, but my need to crawl into bed and just hold her won out. I just wanted to wrap around her and forget about all the plans I’d laid.

I was making sure reporters didn’t come near her. Making sure Cindy wouldn’t blow my cover. It had taken a lot of work and some heavy pull and money to get reporters to back the fuck off, but Cindy was the hardest. I think she could hear the desperation in my voice.

“We’re waiting to hang them in the new house,” I half lie. I will be hanging them in the new house, I just hadn’t really known about them before.

“New house. That’s why this place is so blah. You already moved some stuff?” She looks around the condo with a scrunched face like she doesn’t like it at all.

I reach out and pull her towards me. She tilts her head back to look at me. One of her bare feet lifts and starts to run along my leg as she settles more into me. She may not remember us, but her body does. A deeper part of her does. We fit together. That comfort has always been there. It’s been there from the very beginning.

I knew she didn’t love this place, but I didn’t think she had such a distaste for it. How had I missed that? I didn’t want to miss anything with her. When I made her happy, it made me happy. Just to light up her face seemed to light me up inside.

“You could say that. The new place is almost ready. I promise you’ll love it.”

“How can you be so sure? I’m not even sure I know what I want my dream house to be.”

“If you don’t like it, I’ll rip it down and start all over again,” I tell her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her mouth. God, how I missed this. I won’t be missing it again.

She starts to deepen the kiss and I pull back, knowing where that’s going. It’s taking everything in me not to take her, but doing that seems wrong on some level. I won’t do it until she remembers or she tells me she loves me.

I just hope I can make her fall back in love with me before she remembers. I still don’t even know why she ran, but this time I’ll make sure I do everything right. No more walls or hiding who I am. She’s going to see how much I need her. How I won’t be giving her any space.

I scoop her up into my arms. “None of that,” I tease her before she can try and go for my mouth again.

“Let me feed you. Then I’ll spread your legs open on the dinner room table and have my own breakfast.”

Chapter Eleven

Phillip

It’s been almost a week since I brought Molly back home, and it’s been wonderful. We’ve spent every second together, planning for the baby and indulging her in every way I can think of.

But there’s been a shadow around our time together. It’s the worry in the back of my mind, waiting to see if she remembers. It’s the reason I haven’t taken her fully yet. I’ve been between her legs at least three times each day, making a meal out of her sweet pussy. But every time she asks me for more, I just give her orgasm after orgasm until she passes out.

The guilt of keeping her time away from me a secret is starting to build. Molly is my best friend and my soul mate. I don’t like the idea of keeping anything from her, but I fear that if she knew she left me, she might want to do it again. And that thought outweighs any guilt I could possibly have.

My current plan of action has been to distract her with excitement over the new house. I’ve told her just enough to keep her guessing but not enough that it would ruin the surprise.

Originally, before the accident, I’d had everything in place. I was ending work that week, and I was going to whisk her away to the new place and put the last year of stress behind us. I was finally going to stop holding back my obsession for Molly and give her all of me. We deserved it, and it was all falling into place.