“I can promise you that you are going to be happy again, Gwen, no matter what it takes.”
I froze, standing to turn towards the source of the deep voice, I couldn’t believe it. I must be hallucinating. Cade was standing in front of me, eyes glued to mine. His hands were in his pockets and I let my gaze roam over every inch of him. His hair had grown longer, kissing his shoulders roughly. Half of his face was covered by a substantial beard, much more than the couple of day’s growth I had been used to. His eyes were glittering with emotion, locked on me, drinking me in. He looked…wild. He was wearing all black, not surprisingly. A black thermal, his black leather jacket, which I was surprised to see was not his cut. Black jeans on his legs and his motorcycle boots. He was bigger than I remembered, two months and he had more muscle if that was possible. He also looked…ravaged. I barely suppressed a flinch, seeing my strong man looking unraveled like that pained me. I looked at him in silence, frozen, unable to move, to speak. I didn’t know what to say, to do. I was too scared that he might not be real. His eyes moved down from my eyes to my stomach, the dress I was wearing was pre baby. It was a light pink knit and long sleeved, made from a tight jersey material, straining over my bump.
His face changed, softening, even under his harsh features, I didn’t have much time to contemplate this, as he advanced on me in a few quick strides. He surprised me by kneeling in front of me, his hands spanned my belly, and he rested his head against it for a moment, then softly kissed me on top of the fabric. He stayed like that for a while then stood, pulling my forehead to touch his, grey eyes searing into mine.
“Gwen. You, round with my baby, it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” His voice was rough, full of emotion.
I gazed into the eyes of the man I loved, unable to form words. The words to tell him how much I missed him, how it had felt like a physical pain to try and struggle through every day without him, how I wished he had been here to watch our baby grow.
“I’m so sorry I took so long to get here, baby. I’ve been thinking of you every day, every second. It’s been killing me not seeing you, hearing your voice. Knowing you were in pain, knowing every day you were changing, our baby growing inside you. You don’t know the amount of times I considered chartering a fucking jet to get to you.” His eyes searched my face. “It nearly shattered me, talking to your family, not being able to hear your voice, not being able to touch you, not being able to see your beautiful face.” His hand moved to cradle my belly. “Not being able to experience every second of our child growing inside you, that has been pure torture. I spent hours staring at that fucking picture you left on my refrigerator, staring at my baby.”
His face was tortured and soft at the same time, his gaze was so full of emotion I couldn’t process it all.
“Say something please, Gwen,” he pleaded.
I couldn’t. There was nothing I could say without letting myself shatter. So I pressed my mouth needing to feel our physical connection. He took over the second my mouth touched his, probing my mouth, sliding his tongue along the seam. I yielded to him, letting him inside clinging to him for dear life. The kiss went wild, savage. I ran my hands through his long hair, needing to touch more of him. His hands left a trail of fire over my belly, up to my breasts, squeezing them tightly. I cried out, surprised at how sensitive they were. He stopped instantly.
“Did I hurt you?” He loosened his hold on me a fraction, his eyes searching mine, full of concern.
I shook my head. “The opposite. You’re the only person that can heal me,” I whispered.
And that was it. My shield shattered into a thousand pieces and I collapsed against him. All the pain that had been coiled so tightly stretched to every part of me, and I sobbed into his jacket, barely noticing his arms wrap around me, hands stroking my hair. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I clung to him for dear life, reveling in the strength he represented. I sniffled against him as he wiped the last of my tears from my face and kissed my head.
“Everything is going to be okay, Gwen.” His voice was so strong, so sure, I actually believed him.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bra and undies rubbing the cream on my stomach that promised to reduce stretch marks. It bloody better. I had had the stuff flown over from France, I really didn’t want stretch marks.
After Cade had found me and I had cried every tear in my body, we had slowly walked back to the house. He never let me go even for a second, as though he thought I would float away. When we got to the house, I was surprised to find I had more tears to shed with my family. It was exhausting, painful beyond belief but it helped. Not a lot, but a little. I still felt like I was bleeding from the inside out, but the pain lessened a bit, or maybe I became stronger. Either way, we gave Cade the tour, avoiding Ian’s old room like the plague. I was surprised to find that his bags had been deposited in my room without a word from my father. He had always been strict and unbendable about that certain rule. Later on in the night after a beer or two, he had proclaimed, “The jig’s up Mouse, you’re pregnant, can’t see him staying in your rooms gonna change that much.”