WAS IT ALL A DREAM?
Believing that he would be suffering from a massive headache, Donovan decided to sleep in the next day. Stress did funky things to his body and this morning, it had decided to hypnotize him. All night long, he had been having strange dreams. They weren't nightmares, exactly, but they were unsettling. In them, Pax was acting like someone else altogether. He had never seen her like this in waking hours, but then, she wasn't like this anyway. Throughout the 'night' in his dream state, he had seen her move back and forth between the bed and the window. He wasn't sure how many times she had made this trip, but she was completely wearing him out just watching her. Eventually, she had settled on the bed. She had begun to caress his arm and then ran her finger along his ear. She had whispered something to him, the words were obscured, but he could have sworn she had admitted that she, too, had loved him all those years ago. Better still, she had confessed that she was ready to get married. That last bit was what convinced him that it had all been a dream. Pax would spend eternity denying his proposals. It was insane of him to think it could have happened outside the realm of sleep. I'm acting like a naïve little boy. How many times have I asked? How many times has she said no? He could live with it. He could live with her, without the benefit of being married, if it meant he'd never lose her.
Donovan shifted position just a bit and glanced at Pax. He had expected to find her in bed, because she was not one to rise early unless forced. She was sprawled out on her stomach, one arm beneath her body, the other stuffed under her pillow. How the hell does she sleep like that? In her sleep, her hand came out from under the pillow, and she scratched her nose. He smiled at that, reveling in the sheer wonder that was this woman. There was so much he had learned about her, but so much more still to be discovered. How many lifetimes would it take? He thought again of the dream and wished a thousand times that it had been real. He reached out and touched her arm. She mumbled incoherently in her pillow, but his gentle touch didn't let up. He wanted her to wake up and didn't want to go about it in a subtle manner. Any moment now, she would open her eyes and curse at him. It was almost a ritual with them. Both seemed to be afraid to let a day go by without it happening. Superstitious much? Her eyelids came open slowly and she focused her sapphire eyes on his face. He could almost count the seconds. Witless fuck. Let's have it. I'm waiting. He was a little startled when she said nothing. She only looked at him. Donovan was no mind reader, but if he were, he would realize that Pax was freaking out a little. She wondered if he had heard what she said last night. What would be so bad about it if he did? It's what you want, isn't it? When have you been afraid of anything in your life? She noticed that he was looking at her curiously. At first, she didn't get it. However, it only took a moment. Normally when he woke her up, she cursed at him, rolled over, and then went back to sleep. Instead of following routine [the time for it had passed], she leaned toward him and kissed him.
Pax had meant for the kiss to be soft and gentle. After all, she had every intention of going back to sleep. She was no fan of morning nookie. There were so many things to hate about it: morning breath, drool on the pillow, morning wood that was really only a result of a need to piss [not to get off], and maybe even a stray bed fart. Hell, it just never felt right. Yet this morning, it didn't quite work that way. None of it entered her mind at that moment when the kiss deepened and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She felt the familiar, comforting weight of his body leaning over hers, and she again wondered how the hell he could look so good in the morning when she always looked like shit. It just wasn't fair. He always slept in the buff, keeping a robe and pajama bottoms handy just in case his daughter needed him in the night. Of course, last night was no exception. Her attire consisted of shorts and a tee shirt, but she could feel him against her. Morning wood or not, this morning, it was meant for her. It didn't take a rocket scientist to do the math. This bastard truly loved her. He was an idiot. A big fucking idiot. He didn't know what he was getting himself into, regardless of what he said. She was too selfish to let him go, too selfish to let him have a half decent life. Her past would haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn't deserve that. No one did. Yet, she couldn't let go. Her claws were sunk in deeply, so deeply that she thought it would take superhuman powers to dig them out. She had never wanted to feel like this about him, but what the hell could she do about it? Absolutely nothing and the fucking bastard knew this. Maybe he was psychic.
It wasn't often that she was passive in their lovemaking, but this morning was one of those rare days. He threw the covers off their bodies and stripped her out of her sleepwear. Although she thought it was virtually impossible, he seemed to have touched and tasted every inch of her within moments. However, when he made love to her, there never seemed to be enough time. She let him have his way with her without offering a single touch or move. She didn't think he minded the switch. Albeit, it was different, but nice. When he entered her, damn if she didn't feel like a virgin again. She gasped aloud at the sensual invasion as if she hadn't expected it. Her arms came up around him as he moved within her slowly. For some reason, she felt that he wouldn't pick up the pace at all. He would move slowly, torturing her, forcing her to become more and more selfish. Needy. Clingy. She couldn't stand it. She reached her peak many, many times before he had even gotten halfway close to his own. When he did meet his release inside her, he didn't move away from her. Instead, he leaned his body on his elbows, keeping it connected to hers. She didn't want him to move. She never wanted him to move. In the throes of climax, he had lowered his head, and when he raised it, his mouth covered hers for a deep kiss. After it was broken, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. As he had done countless times, he gazed at her with those hypnotic eyes of his, conveying to her every ounce of love in him. As she answered him with her own gaze, she bit into her lower lip. She had said the words last night and she was ready to say them again this morning. In the end, she lost her nerve. It was all wrong. All of it. But she couldn't let him go no matter how hard she tried.
An hour or so later, Pax sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of decaf. Stasia was seated directly across from her. Donovan had fixed her a bowl of cereal, but she was playing with it more than eating it. Donovan had also announced he was cooking them breakfast, but she didn't know if she could eat. She was a little sick at her stomach. For the first time in months, she began to feel the familiar sensation of itchy feet. Maybe she could leave one morning just after the kid went off to preschool and Donovan the nest. She would give it a week or so and then do one of her famous fades. It was the only way out. It was the only way she could… what? Run? What the hell was she thinking? She didn't want to do that again. What good would it do? He could track her down. Hadn't he done so in Miami? Hadn't he done so after Miami? Stupid. She was fucking stupid and Donovan even more so for loving her like he did. She wasn't aware that he had approached the table until he set a plate before her. It was some type of overstuffed omelet. Her stomach did another flip-flop roll. She couldn't eat that. No way in hell. From the periphery of her vision, she watched as he sat down with his own plate. Stasia began to babble at her father, immediately drawing his attention away from her. Good. He hasn't noticed. Thank God for distractions. She could give it a good three minutes before leaving the table.
Finally convincing his daughter to eat the cereal instead of making crop circle designs on the table, Donovan fixed his eyes on Pax. She was dragging her fork across the omelet, making small horizontal lines down it. Oddly, it seemed as if she were trying to disembowel it. She thought he hadn't noticed. He had, in fact, been watching her all morning. He wouldn't approach it blatantly, because she would only resist him. Perhaps he could use some evasive maneuvers. "Last night, I had a very vivid, but strange dream." She didn't move, breathe, or blink. "I dreamt that you kept pacing about the bedroom, mumbling to yourself. You crawled into bed with me, touched my arm, and my ear. You said that you loved me at the time I realized I loved you. What was stranger still, I thought I heard you say you were ready to get married."
Jesus jumping Christ on a fucking camel. He was awake. He was awake and fucking tricked me like he's been tricking me from day one. I remember how he tricked me into admitting I loved him. He did it again when he gave me this massive engagement ring. And I'll be fucked if he didn't do it again. She was angry, but didn't want to lose her cool, especially not in front of the kid. It wouldn't be pretty. "Yeah," she said as she took a sip of coffee. "That was a dream. I can't see that happening. I can't hear myself saying something like that," she said nonchalantly. She thought she should take a bite of the omelet for good measure, but her stomach wouldn't accept it. No digestive pyrotechnics today. Uh uh. Hell no. She hated to puke worse than anything. "You had a hell…er…heck of a stressful day and it can do crazy sh…stuff to you." God. She had to watch her language. She still wasn't accustomed to having a child around.
"I thought as much," he said. He had suddenly lost his own appetite. In a way, he was disappointed that it was a dream. He thought that maybe, just maybe, it would explain her behavior this morning. But it was so vivid. So real. He had felt the touch of her hand, the tickle of her finger. The hell with this. We've been living together for months. Why the hell wouldn't she marry me? She's putting up a wall just like she always does. It was time to do some construction work. He would knock every damn one of them down. He was concerned, because he recognized the symptoms. She wanted to flee, but he had no earthly idea why. This was not the same woman he had just made love to. "You're distant today," he began. "What is it?"
You've caught me in a lie! She had hurt him in some way. She knew this. She could see it in his eyes. Of course I have. He apparently heard what I said and I'm sitting here denying it. Same old Pax. Same old games. I thought I was finished with games, but I guess not. "Yesterday just weirded me out," she told him. "The whole thing with that cop messed me up, that's all." She had finally managed to tear open the omelet and could see the contents. Any other day, she might have found it appetizing as hell. This morning, the eggs, cheese, peppers, mushrooms, and beef strips looked like intestines. If she didn't vomit today, it would be a miracle. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not hungry."
"Neither am I," he said suddenly. "Not anymore." Without a word, he picked up their plates and carried them over to the sink. He tossed their breakfast down the garbage disposal and set the plates aside for later. It was nearly nine and Stasia was still in her pajamas. He thought about keeping her home today, but it would only be for selfish reasons. Besides, he was still a chicken shit. He didn't want to answer any of her questions about her mother, not just yet. Leaving Stasia's mess for now, he approached her and lifted her out of her booster. "Come on, love, it's time to go to school."
Donovan entered the kitchen after sending off his daughter and saw that the non-domestic goddess had taken it upon herself to clean up the crop circles and start the dishwasher. Something was definitely eating away at her. She simply didn't do this type of stuff. He didn't think she had heard him enter, because she stood at the sink, blankly gazing out of the tiny kitchen window. He approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. She tensed up slightly for the briefest of moments but relaxed when she recognized his touch. In kind, she wrapped her arms around his. He bit his bottom lip. Bit it hard. The words 'let's get married' bubbled up to the surface in an almost uncontrollable flood. He fought it back and won. If she hadn't bolted in his short absence, perhaps she wouldn't. But if he were to say the 'M' word, it might make her leave. He could leave it alone. He loved her and was perfectly happy with the way their relationship was working. Why did he want to say something stupid to ruin it all? Again, he knew he would forgo marriage to have her. It wasn't important. They, as humans, had so little time on the planet. The funerals yesterday had definitely been a wake up call. Don't turn your back on the woman you love. Don't deny her. If you do, tomorrow, she may be gone, and you'll never forgive yourself.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm pretty damn sure I kicked you when you were down, didn't I?" He said nothing. Instead, he placed a moist kiss on the side of her throat. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I keep playing this idiotic game. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm not enough. I'll never be enough. Some day, you'll see that. "I'm just so damn sorry about everything. But I'm truly sorry I can't be the kind of woman you need right now. I wish I could be her, but I can't. You have an out, Donovan. Any time you want it, just say so."
He tightened his hold about her and kissed her throat again. "I don't want out. Remember what I said last night? Stop this talk about me wanting out. I don't want to hear it again. I didn't want the dream I had to bring this about. I shouldn't have told you. I wasn't aware of how it sounded until the words left my mouth."
It wasn't a dream you witless fuck. He was so confused right now that he didn't know what he wanted. Now look who's trying to be psychic. How do you know? Have you asked him? You've lied to him, you know. You said you would never lie to him again, but you did. Goddamn that lady cop. The bitch had fucked her up beyond all recognition.* If Norwood had stayed away from them, perhaps she wouldn't have sat up half the night lamenting and then spouting off a bunch of shit she was too scared to back up. Oh hell no. Not Jonella Paxton. She had to put her foot in her mouth and chew on the fucking thing. Of course, what else could be expected from her? "No. I'm glad you told me. I dream like that sometimes, I just don't remember enough to tell. Mine aren't so…vivid, I guess. Don't ever apologize for telling me something like you did." Especially since I said it. I wish I could admit it. "Could you let me go now? I can't breathe."
He chuckled and gave her one last kiss to the side of her throat. "I love you, too."
* * *
"Daddy, look," Stasia said.
Donovan turned his attention toward his daughter. She was sprawled belly down on the floor and had created some great artistic design she wanted to share with her father. Although his joints and muscles would protest loudly, he got down on the floor with her, crossing his legs before him. Almost immediately, she crawled onto his lap. She held out her picture and began to explain what it was. He was trying to listen, but he was distracted. He had yet to say anything to her about her mother. Sometimes he truly didn't like himself that much. Was it so wrong of him to want to protect her from the harsh realities of life for as long as possible? She was so young.
"Want to show Mommy now," she said, breaking through his daze.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Jesus. He couldn't hide from her anymore. "Baby," he began as he smoothed her blonde hair out of her face, "You can't."
She looked up at him, the confusion evident in her violet eyes. "But I want to show Mommy," she repeated patiently, as if he hadn't heard her.
Her bottom lip had begun to tremble. He had seen this a dozen times. Daddy had denied her, and when that happened, she was about to become one unhappy camper. However, this situation was so much more serious and heartbreaking. There might be lots of crying, but no temper tantrums…not tonight. "Anastasia," he said. Pax had been right. Remy picked out the name. He had been too goofy in love with the tiny little being squirming in his arms to argue with her about it. "You can't. Mommy is gone, baby." Jesus Christ, he had never been so fucking choked up in his life. "Mommy is gone, but you can show me and Donnie anything at any time. You can take it to your Auntie Ren, Grandma, and Grandpa. Mommy won't see you anymore, not in the same way." She didn't understand, but then, he didn't expect her to.
Not dropping her picture, she leaned up and pressed a finger against his cheek, catching a tear as it rolled down. He hadn't been aware he was crying. "Mommy gone? Mommy bye bye?"
In Stasia terms, 'gone' meant out of town. She had no idea of the finality involved here. "Yes, baby," he said. "Mommy's gone."
* * *
Donovan thought he might find Pax in bed when he came upstairs, but she wasn't. Well…sort of. She was actually sitting up on top of the covers, pretending to read a book. He saw the blank look on her face and knew instantly that she had been listening to his conversation with Stasia. She stared at the page a good two minutes without turning the page. He wouldn't have minded her listening in. In fact, he wanted her there, but she balked, calling it a 'family thing.' All you have to do is say yes, Jonella, and it's done. "I know you were listening. I saw your shadow by the door. I could have used your strength tonight."
She closed the book and looked up at him. "I was listening," she admitted a little shamefacedly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I think you handled it fine. You did a hell of a lot better than I could ever imagine doing myself." She turned away for a moment as she tossed the book aside. She fixed her eyes on him again. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm okay." He came down on the bed beside her. Reaching out, he traced a neat line over her bent knee and then down her bare leg. "You don't like the mushy stuff, but I'll risk my spleen yet again to say that you are in this with me all the way whether you realize it or not. There is an us here. You've never had anyone in your life so steadily before, and I can understand some of your reluctance."
She glanced at him, tilting her head ever so slightly. "And this psychoanalysis is due to what?"
"You can truly be hard headed sometimes," he commented lightly. "What I'm saying is that when you back away from something because it's a 'family thing,' you're backing away from us. I know you understand that. It's your old way. Here lately, I've seen a lot of the old you coming out to play. Do you want to tell me what's going on? Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know what's going on," she said. "If I did, I'd tell you, but I don't. I'm sorry." Here we go again. She didn't want to turn this into a full-blown argument. She damn well knew what was going on. Damn it to hell, she would be so glad when he left for the nest tomorrow morning. The idea of leaving again was an attractive one. She placed her hand over his the moment it made its sloping ascent up her leg. She shifted positions to lie facing him. "I'm truly sorry. I've screwed up a lot, I know, but I love you. I want you to remember that whenever I fuck up bad enough to enrage you. I do it all for you, even when you don't realize it."
"Jonella, are you planning to leave? I may be paranoid, but this sounds like a goodbye," he said.
"I've thought of it," she admitted. "You don't know what's good for you sometimes, even when hit on the head with it. I don't think I can ever give you all that you need. We've gone round and round about this. I think about doing it every day, sometimes twice a day, but I never manage to get one thing packed. I can't go. I can't. It used to be so easy for me and I never gave it a second thought."
"Maybe you can't go because you're supposed to stay," he said. "Have you ever given any thought to that idea? Maybe you're supposed to live with me for the rest of your life. Think about that. Think hard. Don't run. Don't do that again."
Maybe you're supposed to live with me for the rest of your life. Maybe? She had opened her mouth, spilled the beans, and told him exactly what she was planning to do. She was a fucking idiot. But I don't want to go. "I won't. I can't. I told you."
Pax spent another sleepless night in bed, but this time, she didn't utter any words that would start another fight. However, she spent a good bit of time staring at her left hand, playing with the engagement ring, and twisting the silver band around her finger repeatedly. Donovan's words haunted her for the rest of the night: Maybe you're supposed to live with me for the rest of your life.
_____________________
To be continued…
*FUBAR—Fuck Up Beyond All Recognition. Reference from Tango & Cash. NO infringement intended. I just thought it was a hell of a line! J