Norma's POV
I did not know I could feel this way again. Of being in his arms after so many years of neglect and feel as if I have the world in my hands. Alex always fought for our love, if you ask me. I wasn't a fighter like him. I couldn't be. Not when I had lost the only person I have ever loved with my entire being. Not when I had lost my sweet, sweet boy.
I build walls. That is my expertise. And as always, I don't let anyone in. It took a long time for me to demolish the wall that kept Alex so close yet far away from me. It took everything in me to trust him—to give him my heart, expecting him not to break it the way everyone else has.
After so long, after such hard work, I found myself re-building that particular wall again. The one Alex had crumbled down himself. Our first fight as a married couple is still indented in my brain. I cannot seem to forget about it, I can't shake it off. He had betrayed me—so I thought. He went behind my back, pitting my own son against me, only because he wanted to put Norman away for good.
I didn't understand it then, but I do now. I was selfish and compelled to do everything I could to protect my son. That's what I always did, that's what I knew best. It's what mothers are supposed to do, aren't they?
After our huge fight, I drove around town for hours. I lost track of time. At some point, I had forgotten where I was. I couldn't cry, though. I was livid. I couldn't believe what my husband, my absolute perfect and charming husband, attempted to do behind my back. I was determined to focus on my kid and my kid only. How could I possibly go back to the life I had with him after all this?
Everything was going according to plan. We had dinner, the three of us, as a family. It was bound to be hard for my boy, but we survived it. It didn't end how I wanted nor ever dreamed of, but it was still progress of some kind. I remember how difficult it was to ask Alex if he could spend the night on the sofa—and again, there I was, being as parsimonious as always.
But I needed to make sure my son was okay. That's what I did for many, many years and in my mind, that's what I was brought into this world to do. My specific task. Now that I think about it, I just wanted to crawl in bed and cry until the end of times. I was so blind and ironic, I actually thought that Norman had a chance. That we had a chance to start over again. Alex, him and me.
But one can only dream.
I remember, scarcely, the way I felt after I got home that night. Norman was waiting for me. He knew I wasn't in my right mind. He knew me that well. Although I hadn't shed a tear, I felt like something inside me was bound to explode if I didn't.
Leftovers okay, honey?
I didn't have the strength to cook, to lift a pan nor a single utensil to make dinner that night. All my strength had abandoned my body after I heard Alex's desk objects flying and breaking inside his office. I heard it all. All those pieces shattering the way my heart was.
I am almost certain that I could feel my heart in my throat. I remember looking inside the fridge as if something good might come crawling out of it. As if avoiding eye contact with my son was the best I could do because I wasn't strong enough. I've had many fights before. Nonstop arguments with my former husbands, a million of those. But I never felt this way afterward. Perhaps because I knew that it was over. My marriage, my happiness... it was all over.
You were right. It's not gonna work with Alex and me.
Who the hell do you think you are?
Someone who loves you and is worried about you.
That's nice that that's how you frame it in your head, but how it looks from here is that you're an incredibly presumptuous and arrogant man who thinks he knows what's best for me and my son.
Regret. That's all I have been able to feel after all these years. I think back on those dreadful words... it's funny the things we say when we're mad. I can't forgive myself from calling him that. That's how I treated the man that's given me more than I deserve, the man that's been solely trying to protect me since the start. I know I don't deserve his love. I don't deserve it after everything that's happened. Those words keep replaying in my mind like a broken disk.
He came to see me. That night. He knocked on my door. He didn't have to. He had a key.
"Norma... please, let me explain-"
"I have nothing to say to you," I had said through gritted teeth. I was furious with him still. I couldn't possibly take one look at him without feeling betrayed.
Oh, my sweet, sweet husband. I couldn't find an ounce of anger in his eyes. He didn't force himself on me, he didn't move a muscle. He simply stood on the porch, looking at me with those huge caramel eyes that still softened me from the inside out.
It was then when I realized how different we were. How my anger can be easily viewed through my pores. My fury was unmistakably reflected on the way I moved and talked. But him? He simply stood there. Asking for me to let him explain himself.
But how can I let him explain something that is so obvious? What does he have to say? I don't want to hear lies, not from him. I don't think I would be able to handle it. More lies. More betrayal.
I never gave him a chance to explain, though. I shut the door on his face, locking it afterward. I know, shocker. It was to be expected, right? But I'm not going to lie, another piece of my heart broke the second that door closed and I heard his voice.
"Norma!" he roared, conscious that I was still inside the foyer, confined between those two doors. He knocked on the wooden door repeatedly, not as hard or persistent as before.
Again, he had a key. He could easily let himself in. But he didn't want to. It made me even more upset, knowing that despite our ongoing argument and break up, somehow he managed to still treat me with what he's always granted me; respect.
I can't help but wonder if he knew that we're over. Maybe he did. Maybe that's what brought him here in the first place. Knowing that this was over. That it was good as long as it lasted.
It was dark, inside my house anyway. The lamp post outside made it easier for me to detect his figure from inside the foyer. Both of his hands were glued to the glass. I couldn't peel my eyes away from him even if I wanted to. I remember perfectly how hard it was for me to hold back my tears. He didn't deserve them. He didn't deserve them at all.
I felt like my heart wanted to burst. I could hear almost every bone in me break. I've never been through this before. I never had to break things up with the person I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. We weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. He was my husband, and I was his wife, for goodness sake. I was ending something powerful. The only thing I ever believed in. And he knew it. I know he did.
"Norma, please! Don't do this!" I remember clearly those words. But most importantly, I remember how broken he sounded. "Let me talk to you, let me explain. It's not what you think."
I swallowed my bitter pill, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Leave and never come back again. We're done, Alex. This is it for us. We're done."
Where has the time gone?
Alex brushes his nose against mine, disruptively drawing me back to earth. "What are you thinking about?" he hums lowly as if speaking aloud was forbidden somehow.
I finally look back at him. I didn't realize that I've been gazing at his chest this whole time. My hand moving absentmindedly over his chest, my fingers caressing the scar right above his heart.
"Nothing important," I blurt out smoothly, still avoiding eye contact.
I feel his hand reaching for my chin. I hate when he does that. Only because I can't lie once I'm ridiculously drawn into those grand, gorgeous eyes. I can't lie to him, and he knows that. I'm convinced that's why he does it.
"Are you sure?" his index finger travels up my jaw, his eyes watching me closely, his mouth close to mine.
We are currently squished, if that's what you would call this, on the sofa. If I move, I'm sure Alex will fall flat on the floor. My back is resting upon the dense cushions, his body pinning me against them. I didn't mind it. I actually like it. I didn't want his body to be away from mine. I want to feel him close.
"I just..." my eyes dart down to his chest again. I feel an awful need to cry.
My bottom lip trembles as I try to hold back my tears. But he's looking at me. He's seeing it all and figuring me out the way he always has.
"What is it?" the concern in his tone is indisputable. But I don't know where to begin. I can't find the words. And clearly, my silence is mistaken for something else.
"No-rma, do you..." his hand finds my chin again. This time he's able to spot the tears daring to come out. "Do you regret this? Did-did I hurt you?"
I couldn't make him think that I regret what just happened between us. He can't possibly believe that, can he? That making love with him again would be something I regret.
"No!" I shriek immediately, wanting to erase that thought from his head. "No, of course not. No. Not in a million years. No."
He doesn't seem convinced. His eyes roam around my face as if looking for his answer there.
"You could never hurt me, and I could never regret this," my voice breaks. I'm the monster here. Not him.
His eyes soften at my words and he pulls me closer to him. His fingers bury themselves in my hair, brushing it back as he continues to stare at me, patiently waiting for me to tell him what I really feel.
"Why do you even try?" he asks.
"What?"
"After all this time, have you ever been able to lie to me?" his voice soft and never judgmental. His fingers remain stroking my hair, my shoulder and neck now exposed.
My eyes remain on his own and I feel a sudden rush of cold air hit my spine. For some reason, I've never been able to lie to him. He's able to read me like an opened book and that's always bothered me.
"No," I finally say. My tired eyes scan carefully his scar again.
"Look at me, honey," he demands sweetly. I feel my heart in my trachea as I try as hard as I can to remain calm. But tears threatened to fall again and I couldn't do anything else other than to take a deep breath.
"Norma…" his hand reaches for my chin and we finally make eye contact. "Talk to me."
I give him a slight nod, smiling a bit although there are obvious tears in my eyes. "I just- uh…"
I can't concentrate because of the rhythm of his fingers caressing very slowly my jaw. My eyes drift closed as he moves his hand back into my hair, his fingertips caressing my scalp.
"I'm-I'm very lucky to have you," I finally tell him. "I've been nothing but an ass to you all these years and-"
"Not entirely," he says, and I feel grateful for the interruption as I allow myself to giggle.
"No?"
He squints his eyes as if he had to think about it. I push him a little and he finally smiles at me. The butterflies back in full mode, reminding me that after all this time, he still swifts me off my feet.
"Listen," he says seriously this time, making sure my eyes are glued to his. "I know that we spent a lot of time… years, apart. But we weren't really apart? I mean, Amanda did a pretty good job at keeping us together."
"Was that the only reason why we were, though? Because we had to co-parent?" I try not to sound disappointed nor sad.
"Of course not," he says, and I let out a sigh of relief. I never felt like Amanda herself was the only reason why we kept dealing with each other. Why we kept calling each other about things concerning our daughter every now and then and I'm glad, I am happy to know that he never felt that way either.
"Do you remember that time I randomly called you asking you to verify the time and place of her dance recital?"
I remember. I remember it clear as day. My smile stretches for what feels like miles on my face. He returns it immediately.
"Yes," I try to hide my smile. I want him to tell me himself although I already know what he's going to say.
"Well… I had received an email confirmation about a week before," he tells me shyly, his forehead resting against mine. "I had all the information I needed. I just… I wanted to hear your voice."
I hold him tightly by his neck and grin broadly. "I figured. It was almost ten o'clock when you called."
"It was, wasn't it?" he chuckles. "Damn."
"You've never been good at hiding your feelings, Sheriff. At least not with me," I brush my nose against his. "But can I tell you something?"
"What?" he whispers lightly, our bodies pressed together like Vienna sausages.
"I loved seeing your name pop up on my phone. The air was knocked out of me," I murmur happily as I remember how good I felt that night. "I couldn't stop smiling after we hung up."
He chuckles again, kissing me lightly on the lips. "You knew I used that as an excuse to call you, didn't you?"
"Of course I did!" I exalt through beaming teeth. He pulls back, catching my gaze. "I saw your email added to the mailing list when I got my recital confirmation. I knew you were using that as an excuse."
"Fuck!" he murmurs, mostly to himself. He closes his eyes as if embarrassed by the whole thing. "I thought I had it all under control."
"But I loved it," I tell him sweetly. He looks back at me with hopeful eyes. We were both fighting against a giant we couldn't defeat, but our hearts were always longing each other. "I loved knowing that you were thinking of me. That you couldn't get me out of your head."
"I really couldn't," he whispers, his hand brushing my hair back once again. His piercing eyes meet my own. There isn't anything purer than those brown orbs. "I had to go for it. I had to."
"We were only fooling ourselves," I giggle, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He simply grins, nodding his head in agreement a moment later. It's always been us. It's always been real; no matter how hard we've tried to convince ourselves otherwise.
A thought suddenly invades my mind and I can't shake it off. He seems to have noticed, too. His eyes always observing me. Darn you, Sheriff.
"What?" he regards kindly, a slight smirk on his lips.
"Can I ask you a question?"
He doesn't answer but nods his head lightly, his hand moving towards the small of my back. I drop my hand from the comfortable spot on his neck to his collarbone. My eyes focused on the soft skin there, evading his eyes.
"Did you— um, have you, you know..." I kind of leave the question to linger between us but he doesn't seem to catch on as fast as I'd like him to. "Uh, have you—have you been with anyone else? You know, after we— Have you—"
"No," he says firmly, the timbre of his voice transmitting nothing but honesty and fidelity. "I'm a married man."
I don't know why but those words softened me up in an instant, deleting any doubts from my mind. I'd be lying if I say that the thought never crossed my mind. But I couldn't blame him if he'd decided he wanted to be intimate with other women. I couldn't possibly blame him if he did.
But hearing him say that, deny my most horrifying thought, had lifted a weight off my shoulders. But knowing that perhaps he had hundreds of opportunities but decided against them because being married to me was still vividly present in his mind brings me absolute joy.
He returns my shy smile as I bury my face in the crook of his neck. I finally feel like I can breathe without burden. Without the thought of a non-existent girl that tortured me for years. He's always been mine. His heart has always belonged to me. And that makes me happy.
"Me neither," I say although he didn't ask. And by the way he was looking back at me, I knew he didn't have to.
"I know," he says casually, earning a smile from me. I immediately hate myself for doubting him even for a second.
"I was waiting for you to give in," he whispers against my mouth and I can't help but smile. My head tilts back as I try to locate his eyes. I find him looking as innocent as ever, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Really?" I sound too cheerful for my liking. I couldn't pretend to be mad at his comment even if I wanted to. His face is too pure. I'd forgive him in a second.
He only smiles at me as a response. That damn smile that makes me lose control, that melts the most intimate spot of my soul. His perfect smile.
"You gotta give me some type of credit here," he says nonchalantly. "I was trying but you were playing hard to get."
I laugh loudly as his hands find my exposed waist. "Is that right?"
He chuckles. "I sometimes tried using Amanda's charm to get to you but it never worked."
"Using your daughter to try and get back together with your wife, huh?" I can't help the stupid and amused smile on my face.
"I mean, a man's gotta hustle for what he wants, isn't that right?" this time, he makes eye contact with me, that playful tone still present. He leans in and connects his lips to my awaiting mouth. I moan lowly when I feel his tongue taking dominance. He breaks the kiss and adds. "Do you have any idea how much I suffered all these years? Man, I'm sure you did it on purpose. You always did, didn't you?"
"Did what?" I try to look and sound as innocent as possible.
"Every time it was time to drop Amanda off," he tells me, expecting me to continue since he felt the need he didn't need to elaborate. "You always looked extra beautiful. The time didn't matter. You always had something sexy to wear. Something tight. Your hair was always done differently and you always wore lipstick and perfume."
"You noticed all of that!?" I ask incredulously, my stupid smile never faltering.
"Of course I did!" he exclaims. "I loved dropping her off and vice-versa. I always knew I was in for a surprise, and if I was lucky, a treat."
I bite my lip and shyly look away. He wasn't the only one with stunts under his sleeve. He would call in the middle of the night with lame excuses as to only hear my voice, but I would always make sure I spent a little extra time in the morning or night just to impress him. To leave him speechless. To make him miss me and want me even more.
"You were very sneaky," he murmurs and kisses me again, the warmth of his body sparking mine to fire. I moan as a response, bringing him closer to me. My hands pulling him by his neck in an instant.
"So were you, Sheriff," I manage to say as I try to not think of the way his hands are enclosing my waist. How his hot breath is caressing my skin.
I drape my forefinger down his jaw, his eyes finding my own immediately.
"You've always been mine, Romero," my voice firm and unbiased. "Only mine."
"You have to share me now," he kisses my chin, redirecting his mouth to my jaw and crook of my neck.
"No," I say stubbornly, knowing he was referring to Amanda.
He grins. "No?"
"No."
I feel his smile against my skin and I give his hair a light tug. He looks back at me, his stare is deep and full.
"See? We never gave up on each other. You may think that you gave up on me but you never did," he reasons. I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure. I knew where he was getting at with this.
"How so?" I whisper with evident tears in my eyes.
"All those little things that we did? Everything you've ever done just to get my attention... That's not something you just do. Deep down you wanted this more than anything else and so did I. You never gave up on me, baby. You never did."
Leave it to him when I need someone to say the right thing. I remember when he told me that he'd never be the guy that tells me what I want to hear. I know for a fact that everything that comes out of his mouth is intended to clear any doubts from my head with pure honesty.
I can't believe that he's mine. That this man belongs entirely to me, that I have his unconditional love and support. That after all these years we're still crazy about each other and always will be. I am lucky to be married to him. So, so lucky.
"You're amazing, you know that?" I tell him gratefully, running my fingers through his dark hair. I've always loved the gesture, feeling his body relax into mine the moment I start playing with his hair.
He simply smiles and nudges his nose against mine.
"You're amazing," I whisper to him, our foreheads resting upon each other, our bodies tangled in one complete and beautiful mess.
After spending minutes that felt like hours enjoying our presence, he tilts his head back a bit, catching my eyes. I watch his face carefully, cherishing every trait, wrinkle and beauty mark on his face. The way he stares back at me so deeply I'm sure he's scrutinized my entire soul in a second. Those eyes will forever be the death of me.
But he doesn't utter a word. And I'm certain that he doesn't have to. His lips come in contact with my bare cheek, his hand smoothing back my hair again. I feel a sudden need to cry because of how sweet and perfect this gesture is. He continues to plant light kisses on my cheek as I bury my face deeper into the hollow of his neck.
I let out a small moan in appreciation, smiling widely as he continues to pamper me with his sweet, sweet kisses. I finally giggle as his stubbled chin tickles the side of my face. My hand rests pleasantly on his collarbone, my fingers holding him firmly to me.
"I don't want this feeling to end," I confess in a barely there voice. Our proximity causing him to hear me with no challenge.
He kisses me one last time before transferring his lips towards the corner of my awaiting mouth. My tone is desperate and vital, I'm sure he sensed it, too.
"Let's not let it," he tells me softly, his hot breath causing goosebumps to spring freely on my exposed skin. I was in cloud nine. "I'm not letting it end. Are you?"
"No," I murmur, my lips grazing barely his own, my hand running back to its original place on the back of his neck.
His eyes remain fixed on my lips. I catch the moment his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips. We're too invested in each other that we didn't realize that we were both breathing heavily but surprisingly softly, as if the air was abruptly knocked out of us.
My mouth was aching to feel, touch and savor his glory, but I wouldn't kiss him. He brushes his lips against my chin before giving my neck an opened mouth kiss. I close my eyes at the contact, trying strongly to catch my breath. I bite my bottom lip as his mouth continues to explore my neck. I extend it gracefully, granting him more and immediate access.
Although I tried not to, I can't help but moan at the delicious sensation and at the way his ministrations are causing me to twist my toes in pleasure.
He suddenly stops kissing me and I immediately miss his alluring lips on my boiling skin. His eyes are fully dilated and utterly shallow. I feel a familiar twirl at the pit of my stomach. A suited and mouthwatering twirl.
"Alex?" I plead eagerly, my eyes heavy and the tone of my voice almost gone.
"Mm?" he brushes his nose against mine, still purposely avoiding my lips.
"Can we do it again?" I ask hotly, my tone undeniably seductive.
I've never seen him smile so big. Before he has a chance to respond, his hands had found their way to my waist, tugging me roughly to lay on my back as he hops over me, covering my body with his. I can't help the shrill of laughter at witnessing his excitement and keenness.
He chuckles lightly and begins removing the opened skirt from our bodies, the piece of silk landing happily on the floor. He's found himself between my legs, and I am more than happy to wrap them around his waist. He shushes my giggles by connecting his mouth to mine, finally kissing my smiling lips.
I feel a hasty eruption of happiness inside my chest. I can't believe I managed to survive years without this. Without him. Without his love, his affection; without his simplicity. I don't know how I did it then, but I do know how I'm going to do it now.
I wriggle under him, positioning myself comfortably underneath his broad body. I moan the second he bites my lower lip, keeping it captive between his teeth, not letting go just yet. I open my eyes and find him staring back at me with a mischief look on his face. I grin and he lets go of my lip, aiming for my chin and running his mouth down my neck. This is it. This is what I needed. What my body greatly desired. He is what I want. What I've always wanted. And I'm more than ready to show him how much even if it's the last thing I do.
A/N: Little sweet babies, I'm sorry for taking so so long to update. This chapter was almost done when half of it got accidentally deleted. After screaming my head off for almost two hours, I had to re-write it (obviously) and it took a turn that wasn't at all planned. ANYWAY! Hope you liked it. Also, I recently had a baby so if you're ever wondering what I'm doing and why am taking so long to update, picture me changing the diaper of a month old baby. Because honestly, that's what I've been doing since we got home from the hospital.
Next chapter is full of fluff and Normero loving. Cannot wait for you to read it.
I
Love
You!
Xx
