His fists bury in the mattress to either side of my face and I see his breath coming faster and feel him moving harder and I’m brought to tears once again by the rapture of his beauty as he cries out, his forehead nudging mine. I slant my lips over his and taste his moans—my name, chanted, wept:
“Elyse, Elyse, Elyse—” and then he’s coming and I feel it and I’m filled with him and taken by him, and now his chant shifts. “I love you—I love you—god, Iloveyou, Elyse!”
His climax triggers another of my own, this one erupting from deep within me, centered somewhere behind and below my belly button, and this one is hotter and deeper and wilder and more intense by exponential amounts, and I can’t even scream, can’t make a single sound. I’m shredded by this, by him, and I throw myself into the black hole of this climax, this mutual explosion, his body spasming as he shatters above me, crying out and groaning wordlessly, clinging to me, driving into me, lips fumbling at mine as our bodies coil and twist and tangle and braid together.
And then I have my breath and I’m sobbing, broken open by the shared climax. How could I have ever denied myself this? How could I have ever pretended this wasn’t perfection?
“Jamie…” I gasp. “Jamie!”
“I’m here,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m here.”
I palm his cheek and blink tears away from my eyes and kiss him with trembling aching exquisite tenderness. “I love you, Jamie,” I say. “I can’t help it. I’m scared, I’m terrified, but I love you.”
He laughs, and his voice is emotion-clogged. “You don’t have to be scared, Elyse. I’m yours and you’re mine and I’ll love you like you’ve never known love could be possible. You’ll never be alone again. You’ll never—” he cuts off, overcome. “I’ll love you like I’ve always known I was meant to love someone—I just couldn’t, because I didn’t know how until you. Now I know, and now I can love you the way you deserve.”
“I’m going to throw your own words back at you, Jamie,” I say. “I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone. I’ve never wanted anyone—neededanyone—the way I want and need you. I’ve never loved anyone like this. Like you.” I let him see me, my tears, the depth of my terror. “Daniel hurt me, almost broke me. You—Jamie—you have the power to absolutely destroy me.”
“It would be mutually assured destruction, Elyse,” Jamie says, still above me, inside me. “Because you have the same power. Instead of talking about destroying each other, though, let's promise to give each other everything we have, everything we are.”
“You already have all that, Jamie,” I say. “Why do you think I resisted so hard?”
He kisses me. “Fear is a powerful thing.”
“It is,” I say. “But love is stronger.”
“It can be, if you let it.”
I push at his chest. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Once we’re back in bed, I curl up against him, my head in the nook of his arm. Our breathing is synchronized. I feel the silence like a living thing between us.
There’s still one thing we haven’t addressed. “Jamie?”
He rumbles. “Hmmm?”
“I’m pregnant.” I have to say it out loud. For myself, for him, for us. “I’m going to have our baby.”
He sighs long and deep. “I know.”
“Just so there are no doubts—I’m keeping it.”
“There was no question in my mind.” He twists so he’s levered over me, angled toward me. “When I told you I loved you, that was a promise.”
I sniffle, my emotions at high tide and ready to overflow at a moment’s notice. “A promise?” I ask, my voice thick and my eyes wet yet again. “What do you mean?”
“A promise, Elyse. It means I promise to love you, no matter what.” He gestures with a nod of his head toward the wall. “It means I promise to love and be there for Aiden.”
I choke back more tears. “Oh.”
He wipes them away, and then his big warm strong hand covers my belly. “And this little one, too.”
That breaks the tears free all over again, and once more Jamie doesn’t try to shush me or stop me from crying, he just kisses me as I weep. He holds me, giving me the time I need.
“Jamie, I—” I fight for words, hunt for the right ones amid the maelstrom inside my head and heart. I can’t find them. There’s too much inside me.
Instead, I again resort to showing him.
I find him ready—more than ready.
Again and again into the small hours of the morning, until I’m sore and exhausted, I show him. And in the process, I discover how much there is for him to show me, in return.
There’s everything for us to show each other. Finally, aching and sore and sated—with an extra ache from the whiplash for me, which is painful but not debilitating—we take a shower together and clean each other and brush our teeth and collapse naked and clean together into bed, and sleep.
Wrapped up in each other.
We sleep into the late hours of the morning, and finally greet the day around noon. Jamie woke up early and called in to take a personal day at work, and to call in for me, and also to let my parents know I was okay and resting. Then he crawled back into bed with me and we slept on, drowsy and contented.
