Always Us (Always and Forever 2)

“I promise to love you, Trey, and fight like hell to never lose you,” I state firmly past the lump in my now dry throat. He pounds into me harder, with purpose, when I feel something wet hit my left breast. Looking up, I see he’s hiding his face from me, turning to face the headboard at our side. I don’t care if he sees me crying, I lift his head, unafraid of my tears. His blue eyes are red and wet; I see his tear-stained cheek. We’re both crying, crying for the loss of his father, for the loss of his best friend, and for the future where his father will no longer be. I’m crying over the pain that he’s feeling, the pain I can’t erase or even make better. I’m still mourning the loss of who we were before his dad died, scared that we may never get it back. This isn’t just sex, this is a declaration of love and the shadow of a promise that we’re about to face hell. A hell that we may go into together, but one we may not come out of together.

His thrusts become quick and hard as we both stare into each other’s eyes, searching for some kind of sign that we’re both here, that this isn’t a dream.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, reaching down to pull out.

“Come in me, Trey,” I tell him, reaching down and grabbing his ass. I push down, not letting him pull out. I want him to plant his seed in me, fill me with his cum; I want our connection to be whole.

“Fuck, I’m coming, beautiful, come with me.” Already one step ahead, I let my body have what it wants and my heart what it desires. Trey Joseph Adams.

“Fill me with your cum, take all of me, Trey.” He shoots inside of me, warming me. He grabs both of my hands and places them above my head, our intertwined fingers lock and he keeps pounding into me.

“I need to come again, baby.” I’m shocked that he can still come after a third time, but I don’t stop him, it feels amazing.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he says, biting his lip and pushing our hands farther into the bed as an anchor.

“I want this every day for the rest of my life. I want you forever, Trey Adams.” I moan, wrapping my legs tighter around him and clenching tightly around his cock.

“You want this forever? You want to be my wife, baby?” he asks with a full smile lighting up his face. The first real, genuine smile he has shown me in days.

I nod my head, because I do, I want to marry this man. I don’t care if it’s been a few months, I’ve known Trey for almost my entire life, I know that God put him in my path for a reason and who am I to deny God’s plan?

“Yes,” I confess. He smiles.

“Soon I’ll be taking you in this bed as my wife.”

That’s the last thing he says before we both come for the third time.

We lie wrapped in each other for hours until I doze off. We will need to work at moving past this loss, tirelessly, with everything we have, to make sure we heal with time and with each other. I pray this hell I fear coming is just that—fear and never a reality.

Trey

TWO MONTHS LATER

“TELL ME WHY YOU HAVE a hard time trusting your mother?” I look at the therapist in front of me. Her brown hair is cut short with zero style to it. Her pantsuits all look the same, especially the black one she’s wearing today. I don’t think dresses or any other type of clothes in her closet see the light of day. For a couple months, Gwen and I have been seeing Dr. Moore, in hopes we can rebuild our relationship after eighteen years apart.

I wanted to try, not only for me, but also for my dad. I know he wanted me to forget the past and part of that is by way of therapy. Some days I let doubt creep in and push my her away, and others, I find renewed hope to let her in. She’s been trying really hard to be in my life. Spending a ton of time dedicated to making amends for what she did. It’s a start, right?

Pops still lingers in my mind daily, the pain still ever present. It’s been two months, as of yesterday, since he passed. I have slowly begun to heal, I repeat—slowly. I started drowning myself in work and Shayla when she lets me. This past month has been fucking hell, everything was fine, then one day she got distant, keeping me at arm’s length for no damn reason. I thought it was because of Gwen, but it seems more serious than that. Something isn’t right.

“I trust her, I just have a hard time understanding why she’s coming back now. Why, during those eighteen years, was our relationship not a priority?” Avoiding direct eye contact, I let the question hang in the balance and wait for her to answer. I look over at the clock and see it’s just after five. My eyes travel the dark gray walls that are covered in her fancy degrees and expensive art that I know I’m funding with the ridiculous amount of money I pay for these sessions.

“What do you have to say to that, Gwen?” She gestures to her, adjusting her black-framed glasses. I let my eyes hone in on her finally, curious to hear her answer. This is the first time we’re talking about this. We spend one day a week here, and so far, we have had to talk about our lives apart. What I made of my life, the things that her leaving affected, and so on. Then I had to hear about her life without my dad and me. She surprisingly showed a ton of emotion, opening up and declaring her love for me. Apologizing for the years she spent away. Our hardest session to date was when I brought up the letter I found that she left me before she disappeared. I couldn’t cry, I was too angry, and in some ways, seeing her cry made me feel better— vindicated. She hurt me, and I needed to see that she felt the burn.

“I know I was absent for so long, but when I heard about Charles, I knew I needed to step up and be the mother that I failed to be all those years ago.” I keep my gaze on my mother, concentrating on what she’s saying. I look nothing like her. Her dark hair and dark eyes are completely opposite to my blond hair and blue eyes. I look one hundred percent like my dad. Pops. I still can’t even think about him without feeling a tinge of pain.

“Did you not love me or miss me? Did you only come back because it was the right thing to do?” I question her, adjusting my leg on top of my opposite knee. Her head whips to mine and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Of course I missed you, I may have made bad choices in my life, but I have always loved you, Trey.” She sounds so fucking sincere, making me feel a little bit more confident in letting her in my life.

One day at a time.

“What steps have we made outside of this room to start mending your relationship?” Dr. Moore asks before jotting down some notes on her yellow notepad. I wonder what the hell she says in that thing about me.

“We started having lunch together once a week, but that’s it. His girlfriend isn’t a fan of me.” I watch her eyes drop to her fidgeting hands in her lap, and I instantly think of Shayla. I miss her and ever since Gwen’s been in the picture, she and I don’t talk much about it. I know she doesn’t trust her; she doesn’t have to hide it from me, I can tell whenever she comes over or when I talk about the sessions. Shayla stays quiet and just listens to me.

Shayla has been finding excuses to not stay at my place or vice versa lately. Top that off, I haven’t touched or tasted her skin in over a month. If it weren’t for me jerking off every day I would be up to my eyes in semen. I feel that strong ache pull in my body when I think about her. I need to take her away or something so we can reconnect. I can’t say what the breaking point was really, just day after day we grew further and further apart. It fucking kills me that I’m not in sync with my woman the way I need to be.

“Rightfully so, she thinks Gwen isn’t here for the right reasons,” I state, lifting my shoulders and running my hand along my faded, fitted jeans.