107: The New Flamingo

Warning! Not suitable for reading at work.

Beware the ides of March!

Hahahahahaahaha! I had to say it.

You'll find out why in a minute...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bryce

     I'm nervous as hell. My heart won't stop beating the drum solo from "Wipeout." I can't decide what to wear, like a damn female! I think I should wear a tux, but I'm sweating too damn much. Then, I think I should wear some cheesy tourist garb, but I don't think that looks formal enough, especially with what Erin's wearing.

     I decide to hop into the shower to try and cool off.

     This is okay. It's going to be okay. The new bar looks amazing, and it's going to be a smashing success. I'm going to quickly make back the money I've lost, and I'll be comfortable again. I take deep breaths and finally get myself to calm down.

     When I leave the bathroom, I see Erin putting on her earrings, looking fucking hot. That's…my girlfriend. That's…my date tonight. I grin. I'm going to wear the tux.

     "Bryce! You're not dressed!" Erin gasps as she spins around, having seen me in the mirror. "We need to leave in five minutes!"

     I groan and walk towards her. "Not enough time. You're going to be driving me crazy all night until I can get you back here and peel you out of that dress."

     "Ew! You're wet!" she squeals when I wrap my arms around her. She starts laughing when I playfully start dancing with her.

     "Not as wet as you'll be when I'm done with you," I promise, and she groans at my dirty mind.

     "Seriously, Bryce. Get dressed!"

     "Happy birthday, Marie," I tell her when my best friend and his girlfriend walk up to the bar. I give her a rare hug and put a small present in her hand.

     "For me?" she asks in surprise. I sense Jesse's eyes grilling me suspiciously.

     "Yeah. It's nothing, really. More of a peace offering. You did what you thought was right, and you stuck by it even though voices around you said to do otherwise. That takes guts most of us don't have."

     She opens the box. Inside is a small nametag that says her name, and under her name, it says Assistant Manager. Her eyes widen, and her head pops up.

     I smile and shrug. "This is a big place now. I need more than one assistant manager. You…don't have to accept the position, or if you want, you can wait. But, I could really use someone like you in a leadership position."

     "Thank you," she says slowly. "I'll think about it." She puts the box in her purse.

     "Let's get this party started!" Jimmy, one of my new bartenders, shouts and runs upstairs to start up the music. In seconds, a pulsing beat drums around us, and lights flash off the branches of the trees, just barely visible as they compete with the light of the setting sun.

     Erin giggles as I playfully rock us back and forth on the dance floor, similar to how I'd done in our bedroom.

     "You are so beautiful. Have I told you that tonight?" I ask with a thrilled smile.

     She smiles up at me, her eyes cutting above the top rim of her glasses. "Only a dozen or so times."

     "Oh. Okay," I smile and lean my chin down on her shoulder as I tightly wrap my arms around her waist. "As long as I have, but I'll probably tell you again."

     Suddenly, Jimmy starts a song I really don't want him to play. I have no idea how that even got in the playlist at all. "I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders starts playing. A wave of nausea sweeps over me. I hate this song.

     "What's wrong?" Erin asks, noticing my posture change.

     "I'll tell you in a minute," I tell her quickly. "Jimmy!" I holler to my DJ. "Change the song. Why are you playing it?"

     "Bryce!" Jesse suddenly stands just behind my shoulder. "I have to warn you-"

     "Because I requested he play it," a sultry voice says from behind me, and ice fills my veins at the sound of it. I close my eyes, not wanting it to be real. That damn song keeps playing, bringing back memories I don't want. "C'mon, Bryce. You don't like hearing our song anymore?"

     "What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice sounding raspy. I still haven't turned around.

     "Enjoying the party, of course. I see you've finally turned the old dump into something. Congratulations."

     I open my eyes and look down at Erin. She stares, wide-eyed, at my ex-wife.

     "Hi, Jesse!" Ashley says with a smile in her voice. "Love what you've done with your hair." I hear her heels cross the floor towards us, and I finally turn around.

     Ashley Kendall, or whatever her new last name became, stands before me, smiling triumphantly and looking almost exactly as she did the day she left me five years ago.

     "Why are you here? Surely you can understand you're not welcome," I tell her, feeling my blood start to burn.

     She cocks her head, pouts, and looks up at me with an expression I used to find cute. "I thought since this was open to the public that it would be a good time to be reunited."

     "You mean you picked tonight because you know I don't want to make a scene," I snarl down to her damn green eyes. "Why tonight? Why here? Why at all?!" I make a motion like I want to shake her, but I keep it in the air at the sides of her head.

     Her eyes drop sadly to the floor, and her act falls for a moment. "He's dead. Nothing anybody could do would save him. So, I didn't know where else to go."

     "What about stay in Bridgeport?" I growl.

     She gives me a disgusted look. "There was nothing for me there. I couldn't stand it there, so ugly! The only reason I was there was for him. This is my home. I wanted to come home."

     "You abandoned your 'home' five years ago when you left your husband and child!" I roar, causing the scene I didn't want to cause. Several heads turn my way, and some old residents recognize Ashley. Erin takes a step back. "This isn't your 'home.'" I hiss down to her. "Not anymore."

     She glares green fire at me. "This is as much my home as it is yours, Bryce."

     "Leave. My. Bar!" I yell. She has the decency to take a cautious step back. I start shaking, and heat lightning streaks across the sky behind me.

     "Ashley, you really have no business being here," Jesse says calmly behind me. "You're ruining what should be a celebration."

     "I have a right to be here! I lost my husband to that old piece of shit bar where he spent all his time."

     "That was my job! Is my job!" I finish.

    "Yes. Good job, Bryce, building it up from close to nothing. You put a lot of work into it, work you wouldn't put into anything else. And now you have more work to do than before. I wonder what that little bit of fluff you were dancing with will do about that? Or does she even matter? Where is she anyway? Maybe I can enlighten her before it's too late." She looks around for Erin, acknowledging her existence for the first time.

     "Leave her out of this," I growl. "Leave."

     "There you are," she says to Erin, ignoring me, and she prances over to where Erin hides behind Jesse. "Well, come on out and let me get a good look at you."

     "Ashley, I'm not going to tell you again to get the fuck out of my bar," I warn.

     "Piss off, Bryce. I'll leave when I'm ready to." She continues in Erin's direction. "I want to tell your new sweetie pie how she should get used to lonely nights." She tries to peer around Jesse. "Why are you hiding? I'm only trying to warn you to get ready to be ignored."

     "Bryce asked you to leave," Erin quietly says to her.

     Ashley's head backs up in surprise. "Oh? Bryce did, did he? What about what you think? Tell me what you think, or do you not have a spine?"

     Both Jesse and I open our mouths to tell the bitch off, but then I watch the switch get thrown in Erin's personality as she bravely steps out from behind Jesse. "Me not have a spine? How spineless is it to walk out on your responsibility to your child? How spineless is it to give up on and leave your marriage instead of trying for the sake of the child if nothing else? Very! But as for me, I have to say thank you for my sake because it means that Bryce and I are together today. But for your daughter's sake, you couldn't be a lower life form, speaking of spineless. So don't talk to me about being spineless!"

     Ashley waits two seconds before bursting into laughter. Erin turns red.

     "I see any warning I could issue would be pointless, but don't you dare accuse me of wanting to walk out on my child! You can't know my life; you can't possibly comprehend the pain of that decision. Not yet, anyway."

     "Get out, or I'll throw you out on your ass myself!" I snarl loudly. I didn't want to hear her talk about Adele. Not yet? Fuck you!

     "Keep your pants on, Bryce. I'm going. Congratulations on your success. It's all downhill from here." The bitch walks away while I stand here panting, trying to get over the shock.

     Jimmy finally switches the song, and I glance over at him to see him wincing back at me. I can't blame him for playing it. He didn't know who she was.

     Ashley. Here, I think with pain in my chest, and it's my turn to wince. With forced calm, I walk down the stairs and head straight for my office.

     For weeks now, I've done everything I could to fight the encroaching memories of her and our time together, especially the good times. Like right now, I remember the night we picked that song as our song. It was after our breakup when she found out she was pregnant. I'd felt like an ass that I would act like I was abandoning her like that. I went to her house, her parents' house, and knocked on the door. Her dad answered, scowled at me, and I begged to see Ashley. Her mom finally forced her dad to let me in and let Ashley decide. With my heart in my mouth, I remember shaking as I climbed the stairs. After lightly knocking on the door, I opened it before she could answer.

     Ashley was lying on her stomach on her bed with her feet up in the air, working on some homework. Her alarm clock radio was playing quietly in the background. A magazine rested against her pillow.
     Her face flashed anger as she snarled, "What are you doing here?!"

     "I came to apologize," I got out and had to quickly duck from a magazine getting hurled at me.

     "No! You don't get to! Get out! I never want to see you again!" She magically lifted things off her desk before flinging them at me. As she did, she got up off the bed and started backing up.

     Determined, I closed the door behind me and moved through the flying-object obstacle course, trying to block things before they could hit me. I got most of them, but a few landed their marks. When she ran out of things to throw at me, she started sending blasts of pressurized air my way, trying to push me back.

     Ashley found out she was a witch a couple of years before then. Pamela had found out she was one a couple of years before that, so I'd gotten used to dodging magical attacks when fighting with my sister, even if I still lacked any powers myself. Ashley's brand of magic was different. I couldn't always see what was coming at me as I could with Pam. Still, I did my best to keep moving forward, my ribs feeling more bruised by the second.

     "Bryce, stop it! I don't want to really hurt you!" She looked close to tears.

     "That's what I'm banking on," I told her as I closed in. She'd backed herself into a corner.

     "Please. Just leave," she begged in a broken voice, and the attacks stopped. Her hands went up in a 'stop' gesture before she pleaded, "No."

     "Just listen to me, okay?" This is it, Bryce. Don't fuck it up. "I'm sorry I freaked out. That wasn't my finest moment, and that's really saying something."

     Her lower lip trembled as she said, "I'm sorry I missed a pill. I don't know how I could've missed a day, but that's somehow what happened. We won't have to worry about it anymore soon, though."

     "Please, don't do it," I begged, trying to keep from crying like a little kid. "It's not the baby's fault."

     "It's not a baby yet, Bryce," she said, looking annoyed. "Besides, what kind of parents would we be? We aren't together anymore. We're only sixteen!"

     "I don't know what kind of parents we'd be, but I know I want to try. I want us to be together again. I've missed you so much these past weeks."

     She looked at the floor and said, "Mom and Dad say it's a good idea to get rid of it. It would just make our lives harder."

     I wanted to scream and shake her. "Ashley, we did this. Yeah, we're only sixteen, but my mom and dad want to help. We can do this." I took her face in my hands and tilted her face up to make her look at me. "I love you. Don't destroy what we created out of our love."

     "I'll Stand By You" by the Pretenders started playing on her radio, and she started crying. My thumbs wiped at her cheeks, and I leaned down to kiss her. She started responding, so I happily wrapped my arms around her and held her to me.

     "I love you too, Bryce, but I'm scared," she told me with moist eyes.

     "Hey, it's okay. You've got me. Always." I grinned like a loon. "I like this song, especially right now."

     She cried a little more, wiping her eyes, before she crashed her head into my chest. I tenderly wrapped my arms around her, and we stood there and rocked on the spot, somewhat dancing to the song.

     "I will stand by you, Ashley, if you'll let me. We'll figure this out together."

     Erin walks into my office. Instantly, her face goes apologetic like she thinks she's intruding on something personal. She technically is, but I'm glad.

     "Hey," I say and sit up from how I'd been leaning on my arms. After a deep breath, I say, "Sorry. I couldn't stay out there. I needed a minute." I look down at my shoes.

     "It's okay," she says in a little voice.

     How can I think I deserve love? I'm an awful person. Ashley's right. I'd started spending more and more time here than I did with her and our daughter. I abandoned her before she ever left me.

     "Do you need me to go?" Erin asks, and her eyes show her pain.

     "No!" I answer quickly. "Sorry." She stands in front of the door with her hands folded awkwardly in front of her.

     I scowl and get up off the sofa to walk over to her. "Are you okay?"

     She makes a small noise like she means to say something then stops herself at the last minute. Agitated, she tucks her hair behind her hear and glances up at me before looking down at her hands. She takes in a breath like she's about to say something else, but she lets it out with a puff.

     Well, there it was, Erin. Proof of what an asshole I am.

     Maybe I stuffed those memories away to also hide the guilt, not just the pain.

     I closely watch my girlfriend's beautiful features, and the sick realization that I don't deserve someone like her hits me like a punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of me.

     "Erin, tell me," I beg, and I bring my hand up to her chin before tilting her head up to face me. Especially tonight, she's so gorgeous it hurts. She blushes, and it's all I can do to keep from kissing her. I want her to explain that look on her face.

     "It's… It's just that…" She lets out a defeated breath. "Bryce, don't worry about me. I came in here to check on you."

     Truth: my policy with Erin. "Well, right now, I'm scared to death what you're thinking about everything my ex-wife just told you." I blink, surprised at how easy that was to tell her.

     "She's full of crap," she tells me.

     I watch her sadly, and she blinks before her eyes widen a fraction.

     "You believe her!"

     "It's ridiculously easy to believe the truth," I tell her, regret lacing my words. What if I hurt Erin the way I hurt Ashley? Ashley's right; this bar will take up a lot of my time.

     "You can't call working to keep your business afloat abandoning your wife," Erin tells me sternly.

     "But I did," I admit, my eyebrow lifting a tiny amount as I wonder what she makes of that. "I enjoyed being at work more than I did at home. I started spending every evening here. It was unnecessary, but Ashley started grating my nerves, even if I loved her. I don't know. I can't explain it. I still spent the mornings with Adele, but as soon as Ashley was home, I was out the door."

     I see it. I see that Erin doesn't want to believe me. "No. You're not like that."

     "Now?" I smile ironically. "No, but I was." I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, selfishly wanting to keep her even though I don't deserve her.

     "Bryce, you are a good man. I don't know what was going on with you before, but I don't worry at all that you're going to be that way again, if that's what you're wondering."

     "It is."

     "No, Bryce!" She shakes me as much as she's able. "Don't think that."

     "I'm an asshole."

     "Are you listenin' ta me?!" Erin snaps, getting a 'tude. She is so funny when she gets like this. She almost has as thick an accent as Jesse when she gets in a tiff. Hers is different somehow, but it's funny as hell. "I told you you're a good man, Bryce Burch! Don't you think I'd know? Hm?"

     My mood lifts considerably, and I tighten my arms around her, letting a chuckle escape. An annoyed groan slips out of her. "I love you." I kiss her pursed lips then smile at her glare.

     Suddenly, her face softens, her thoughts obviously taking her somewhere different. Her eyebrows crinkle the tiniest amount, and she looks at me with an expression of worry. "She's back," she explains simply.

     "Yes, unfortunately," I agree, and my thoughts stray to my daughter and the legal fight I have coming.

     "She's here, and… Well, this shouldn't surprise me after the scrapbook, but…" Her face screws up, and she crashes her forehead on my chest.

     "Erin, I told you before I don't love her in any way."

     "You have memories of being so very much in love with her. Don't deny it."

     "Okay. So I did." I shrug. "I've gone through years of pain because of it, and that destroyed any tender feeling I have towards that bitch."

     "It's just…" She lets out another huff and shakes the tiniest amount.

     "It's just what?" I ask. Is she afraid of her?

     "She's so pretty," Erin says in a tiny voice.

     My head backs up in shock. "That's your big worry?"

     "I know. It's stupid. It's vain, but it's the truth. I… I like that you think I'm beautiful."

     An unbelieving, shuddering snort escapes me. "News flash, Erin: You are."

     "No. I'm awkward and gangly and have to wear glasses because contacts bother my eyes. My hair usually turns into a tangley mess because I'm both too lazy to straighten it and want to encourage some natural curl. I have hideous feet-"

     "Stop it," I order. "Shall we go outside and ask perfect strangers their opinion? You'll find they agree with me. Is this really how you see yourself?"

     "Bryce, it doesn't matter. As long as you think I’m beautiful, it's okay. It's just…she…"

     "I think I need to teach you a lesson," I say with a wicked grin spreading across my face. She picks her head up and looks up at me, and my grin becomes a leer.

     "You what?"

     "Yeah," I say, liking the idea more and more as every second goes by. I lick my lips and tell her, "I'm putting you in front of a mirror tonight, Erin. I don't know where you got this negative image about yourself, but that needs to change." She's going to watch me and what I do to her, what she does to me. She's going to see herself the way the world sees her. My hands reach down and cup her ass.

     "You don't have to do that, Bryce," she tells me and lowers her eyes.

     "Oh yes I fucking do. You need to see it." When can this thing end? I want to take her home right now, this instant.

     "No, that's…weird." She scowls.

     "Not that weird at all, and it's going to happen," I promise her. For fun, I tell her my plans. "I'm putting you in front of the mirror in our room, facing it, and I'm going to go behind you and run my hands over you, pointing out every beautiful place on you, the ones noticeable when you're wearing clothes. You'll watch as I slowly kiss the back of your neck and knead your breasts in my hands, such perfect breasts…" I sigh and look down at her.

     "Bryce…" she whines and fidgets.

     "And that's just you with your clothes on. Wait until I make you watch what I do to you once I slowly unzip that dress and get you naked." My mouth waters.

     "Bryce, but… I don't know… With you dealing with the shock of her back in town…"

     "This has absolutely nothing to do with her…unless you count you thinking she comes anywhere near close to how beautiful you are." My eyes burn into hers. I want her. Now.

     She easily reads my expression, and she whispers, "You have to get back to your party."

     "I want to get up your dress." My hands start gathering it up. I want to eat her.

     "Bryce! Please," she begs when the hem of her dress gets pulled up past her panties. I groan as my hands encounter a stocking line, and I start doing that trick with my hands, knowing she can't resist me. She gasps, and I groan to answer her. I can feel her, feel her inside when I haven't even gotten her panties down yet.

     Her knees act like they want to buckle, so I push her back to press her against the wall, my hands pushing her hips to hold her in place. "Give me you," I tell her and get on my knees in front of her. "I need this so fucking bad, Erin. What you do to me…" I don't precisely finish my statement as my hands leave her hips for a moment to pull her panties down. She tries to wilt, but I won't let her. No, she's going to remain standing while I do this.

     I stop her panties halfway down her thighs. That's far enough. I see my goal right in front of my face, and I bring my face right into it, breathing in.

     "Oh, Erin. You smell delicious," I tell her and look up. Past her full breasts, I see her face as she looks like she wants to faint. "No, baby. No fainting. You're staying right here." I press her hips harder into the wall and lave my tongue around her, teasing her clitoris.

     She makes a moaning sort of cry, her breath caught up in several hitches as I relentlessly continue, not giving her everything I could, teasing. "Oh!" she cries out before making more of that noise. She's losing her mind, and when I finally give it to her, she'll be anxiously waiting for it.

     "Bryce!" she screams, having finally gotten enough air in her lungs to do it. She can't do anything else out after that, needing to catch her breath again.

     Yes, I groan and let my fingers pulse on her. In my mind, I'm pushing inside her, deep inside her, but not with enough force to give her what she craves. I sense she can feel it.

     She lets out a shuddering scream. I'm not worried at all that she can be heard. Jimmy has the music pumping loudly upstairs.

     Fuck, yes! Every cell in my body sings with the exhilaration of knowing what I'm doing to her. The sweet pleasure of knowing I've brought this gorgeous woman to her figurative knees. I press my tongue harder onto her, making a light sucking action. She screams my name again.

     I'm going to give her what she wants. I rapidly pull her panties all the way down, and, my mouth not completely leaving her, I put one of her thighs on my shoulder. It takes a little convincing, but I get the other one on the other shoulder. I support most of her weight with my hands on her ass, under her pelvic bone, and I completely lose myself in her slick pussy.

     "Bryce! Oh god! Shit!" She screams again and comes into me. I move my tongue against her, and she comes again, whimpering as she does. Her fists bang into the wall at her sides while I continue to drink her up.

     I groan. Fuck, this is perfect. Don't you dare think you're not beautiful. Don't insult my intelligence. Tonight, you'll learn.

     Then, I might let you sleep tomorrow.

----------------------------------------------

Thank you thank you thank you to caterpillar for designing and creating The Flamingo for me! It was done ages upon ages ago. I'm so happy to FINALLY be putting it to use.

If you want to download it from the Exchange, you can find it here. It is CC free, but it does contain store items.

106: Scrapbook of Memories

Erin

     I open up one of the lower cabinets, wondering if Bryce has a mixer. I want to make a cake as an early celebration for the bar's grand re-opening tomorrow, and I don't feel like wearing myself out by mixing it with only a spoon.

     Maybe I need to go buy one. I don't even have one at my little house.

     My hands encounter what feels like a large book, tucked far back into the corner.

     "Wha?" I ask aloud. Then I awkwardly lift it. It's heavy and feels like it has too many pages for the binding with the way it bows out. Finally getting the thing out into the open where I can look at it, I see it's a scrapbook.

     "Huh," I say thoughtfully. I used to scrapbook. I had the cutest one for my engagement.

     The book has dust all over it, but I don't try to brush it off, not wanting it to get in the air and make me sneeze. Instead, I stand up and carry it to the dining room table.

     Opening it somewhere in the middle, I see pictures of Bryce, Jesse, and Pam. Whose scrapbook is this? Why was it hidden? I decide to turn back to the beginning, and my jaw drops further when I see a much younger Bryce holding a baby. His hair is past his shoulders, and he looks terrified behind his smile. Maybe I only see that because of what he's told me. He looks strange without the perpetual five o'clock shadow. At the bottom of the same page, I see a tired but happy girl holding Adele. Bryce stands crouched behind her where she sits on the bed at the hospital.

     Ashley. That's Ashley holding a newborn Adele. She looks like a train wreck. A happy train wreck, but still, with those circles under her eyes and her hair messed up. Well, she had just gone through a delivery.

     I take a deep breath and turn the page. More pictures of a baby Adele show up. She was a very pretty baby.

     A sharp breath of surprise comes into me when I see what must be Bryce and Pam's parents holding Adele. Pam looks like their mother. That the new grandparents love their granddaughter to pieces is clearly evident in the picture, and I feel my eyes tear up. I look all over the next few pages and never find a picture of Ashley's parents.

     Ashley is beautiful. She's really really pretty. Something coils up and whimpers inside me while I look at the beautiful woman with the light skin, dark hair, striking green eyes, and full lips. She's SO pretty.

     Several pictures of Bryce and Ashley together have him looking at her and her looking away. He loved her. Look at his eyes. He's tried to tell me he stopped really loving her when she said she wanted to abort Adele. I don't see that in these pictures.

    I've now reached Adele's toddler years. Bryce's hair is shorter but still longer than it is now. I see the picture that Bryce has on the dresser upstairs. Ashley must've taken it…or Pam. I come across another picture of the 'happy couple.' Bryce has his arms playfully and lovingly wrapped around Ashley's shoulders, and he looks like he's mumbling something naughty into her ear. She smiles while looking off into the distance. He looks so happy, and I can easily picture him kissing her cheek once he finishes saying whatever it was he said. At this point, the perpetual five o'clock shadow has shown up.

     I turn back some pages to get a closer look at another picture. He was so very much in love with her. It's all over the place in this book. No wonder it was forgotten about in an unused corner of the kitchen. He never got rid of it. Maybe he forgot about it. Maybe he tucked it back there on purpose because he didn't want to get rid of it but didn't want to see it.

     This whole thing is a testimony of how much he loved her. I wonder who put it together? Ashley? Pam? His mom?

     The book stops when Adele looks about four, and I decide that it must've been Ashley who put the book together.

     "Erin?" I hear and then hear the front door close.

     Bryce! I think in a panic and quickly close the book. By the time I stand up and turn around to head back towards the kitchen, Bryce rounds the corner. His eyes snap to the book on the table, and he blinks in surprise. They stay wide open as he walks up to the table.

     "I…found it," I stammer.

     "Where?" he asks in a raspy voice before he swallows.

     I tell him, and he closes his eyes. "Do you want me to put it back?" I ask, thinking about Adele.

     He doesn't answer me. Instead, he turns around and walks away. I hear him walking up the stairs. I pick up the book, still not sure if he wants Adele to see it and worried she might if I don't take it with me and follow him upstairs.

     When I open the door, I find him sitting on the bed and staring off into space. His head snaps over to me, but then he focuses his gaze on the dusty book in my hands. "Did you have to bring that up here?" he asks with exasperation.

     I explain to him how I wasn't sure if he wanted Adele to accidentally happen across it. He doesn't say anything, turning his head to look at the floor in front of him. I walk over, put the book on the bed, and sit down next to him.

     "I thought I'd thrown that thing away, not that I was really looking for it, but I thought I'd gotten rid of it," he tells me.

     "But it has pictures of your parents with Adele," I point out.

     "I have other copies of those pictures," he replies. After a few moments of silence, he says, "I thought I'd thrown it away. I remember quite clearly chucking that thing in the garbage." He glances sideways at me. "That's Ashley's scrapbook."

     "I figured that out," I say quietly.

     He wipes his face. "I'm sorry I'm freaking out about seeing that thing again. It's like being haunted by a ghost. I threw it away and got shitfaced that night."

     "Maybe you went and took it back out of the trash," I offer.

     "That's the only logical explanation."

     "Um," I say, remembering something else I saw in the book that might lighten the mood, "did Lynne and Desmond date?"

     He chuckles. "Yes. So that's how he got started being with our group of friends. I'd forgotten. When they broke up, he just kept sticking around." He looks at me with a half-smile. "She also dated Jesse for a very short time. And Jesse dated Ginger when she first got here."

     My eyes widen. "Who hasn't dated?"

     "Belinda. It's weird in comparison. Nobody's dated her." He scratches the back of his neck. "Lynne and I dated once in high school."

     "Did you date anyone else in the group?" I ask, wondering.

     "Nah. After Ashley left, I didn't want to make any lasting attachment anywhere."

     We both get quiet again.

     "You loved her very much," I state.

     "What makes you say that?" he asks with his eyebrows scrunched up.

     "The pictures. So many different, candid moments." I reach back behind me and get the book before turning to the page with the picture of him talking in her ear. "Look."

     He cautiously glances at it before standing up and saying, "Get that thing away from me." He paces for a moment before saying earnestly, "I don't love her anymore, Erin! That's gone!"

     "But you told me you'd pretty much stopped loving her when she said she wanted to abort Adele."

     "I did!" he insists and puts his hands in his hair. I put the book back on the bed, and the motion turns another page. Glancing at it, I see Jesse, with much shorter hair, with two or three different girls.

     "That's not what these pictures show," I reply simply, not wanting to really upset Bryce so much as make him see it. I turn the book back to the page with him talking in Ashley's ear.

     "Why are you doing this? Are you trying to trap me into saying something that will only hurt your feelings and start a fight?!" His breathing picks up speed.

     I decide to tell him the absolute truth. "You haven't dealt with it. You keep trying to tell yourself you didn't love her because that's easier to bear than the fact that you did."

     "I definitely don't anymore," he says quickly, probably still thinking I'm trying to trap him.

     "I know that," I say reassuringly and stand up, closing the book. "But it doesn't do any good to lie to yourself and say you didn't."

     "I hate her," he restates adamantly.

     "Now you do, but you didn't before."

     He sighs and closes his eyes. "What do you want me to say, Erin? That I loved her? That I loved her with everything I had yet it wasn't enough so she left me? That I couldn't love her enough to make her want to stay? That I ruined my marriage by working too much? That I could never get her to understand how much she meant to me?!" His arms start shaking as he battles his old demons.
     "At least that would be the truth," I answer quietly.

     "The truth?!" he asks me, and his eyes open wildly. "Yes! Yes, I loved her! I adored her! It killed me when she broke up with me once she found out she was pregnant! When we got back together, I wanted to do anything to keep that from happening again, but it did anyway! Is this what you want to hear?!"

     He stays quiet, waiting for me to answer, so I say, "I don't want to hear it, no, but I want to help you. And you've been lying to yourself." Tears form in my eyes from the anguish on his face.

     "What's the point? What's the point in thinking about all this crap? It's easier and better to ignore it."

     "No," I quietly disagree.

     "Right. Because then I'm 'lying to myself.' Erin, it was only when I started making myself forget about it that I started getting better," he tells me in a calmer way.

     "You weren't getting 'better,' Bryce. You only locked your feelings away instead."

     "So, you're saying that my feelings are locked away therefore how can I possibly love you?" he asks me.

     "Now who's baiting whom?" I ask with a touch of anger. "I know you love me; that's not the issue. What I'm talking about is everything I've heard and seen from you: little things and big like you trying to deny how much you loved her because you don't want to admit how hurt you were."

     "Little things…" he says and puts his hand over his eyes as he leans against the wall. "Little things like memories I don't want to come back up coming back up, set off by the strangest things."

     "They're coming back up because you're letting yourself feel again when before you'd shut everything off."

     "I don't want them!" he says loudly.

     "I know," I say and place a hand on his arm.

     He snatches me to him and holds me tightly, one arm wrapping around my waist and the other moving up into my hair, shaking. His breathing turns ragged as he wrestles with his past. I let him hold me, leaning into him, saying nothing.

     "Will I ever be healed, or will I carry this around with me my entire life?" he asks rhetorically.

     I answer anyway. "That's up to you, I think."

     "I don't want you to think that I don't love you. Like you once said about Sean, I love you more than I ever loved her, and because of that, I'm scared ten times more shitless."

     "Don't be," I say, but I feel a heavy burden on my shoulders. I take a deep breath and say, "But Bryce, don't do that to me. You have to be able to also stand on your own. Don't depend on me to get you out of this. I'm more than happy to help, but I'm not perfect and could let you down."

     "I'm not asking you to be perfect; I'm asking you to never leave me."

     "I have absolutely no intention of ever leaving you, Bryce, but we also don't know what the future holds."

     "Then I'll have to make sure I don't do something to make you want to," he says definitively.

     "No!" I snap, surprising both of us. "That's not the answer! That's nothing but a band-aid solution. Stand. On. Your. Own!" I tell him earnestly. I calm my voice down as I continue, "Just allow me to stand next to you while you do -- but not with you leaning on me."

     He pulls me back to him, and we stand here quietly, swaying back and forth occasionally. I listen as his heart rate calms down and his breathing becomes regular again.

     He breaks the silence. "Can I…stand with my arms wrapped around you just like this? With you having your arms wrapped around me like this?"

     I smile, adoring him for understanding my metaphor. "As long as you don't lean on me while you do it, yes. This is just fine."

     "I can't promise I can completely keep from doing that, but I'll at least put forth an effort. It's just…Erin, I love you so damn much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. My life. All of it. And it would kill me to lose you. I can't help but say that, but I know it. It scares me."

     I take a deep breath. "What about it scares you most?"

     "The ripped-apart, empty feeling that would make my life a living hell. I never want to feel that because I've felt it to a smaller scale before, and it almost did me in."

     "Bryce…"

     "I know. I know," he interrupts me quickly. "Don't lean on you. I still want you with me." He pauses. "What do you want, Erin?"

     I close my eyes and take more deep breaths, trying to figure that out. "I'm not a hundred percent positive, but I do know that I see you in every picture. Right now, my favorite one is the two of us" Please don't overreact "married with one or two more children."

     He breathes in, pulls my head back, and passionately takes possession of my lips. I guessed he'd react like this, but what I told him is the truth. I've known that ever since I found out I wasn't pregnant. My worry is that my time scale and his don't match.

     "How far away is that?" he asks while kissing my face and neck.

     "Years?" I reply as a question, wondering what he thinks.

     "Years until children, or years until married?" he asks, and his hands start working their magic on my behind.

     "Bryce! Your hands!" I gasp.

     "Because I want you."

     I moan and say, "I can't think."

     "You told me you want us married, and I want to know how far away you're thinking," he reminds me, but his hands don't stop.

     My own breathing sounds loud in my ears as I fight for lucid thought.

     "Next year?" he prompts. He leans down to kiss my neck while my head throws itself back. "Mmm, Erin, I like that idea. I know you don't want to rush into anything, so that would give us time." I see him smile at me through little slits in my eyes. "But you're unable to answer me right now, so I guess I'll have to find out later."
     I'm dimly aware of him throwing the scrapbook across the room before he lays me down on the bed and peels off my clothing. I discover he's also naked when he turns me on my side and lifts one of my legs, bending it at the knee.

     We moan simultaneously when he enters me and starts slowly making love to me in this bizarre position.

     His hands are ever busy as they travel over me, working their spell. I've discovered Bryce is a fast learner, having embraced his ability, as he strokes me. I imagine myself seduced by a mythological creature and captured so it can satisfy its carnal desires upon my body.

     I let out a high-pitched feminine whine when he finally lets me come. He lets out a content sigh as he joins me, pressing as hard into me as his chosen position allows.

     Later, I sense him getting up, putting on some clothes, and going downstairs. I faintly hear Adele's voice. She must be home from school.

     Married by this time next year… ?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stock photo credits:
Pixabay:
open book: JJuni
brown/white/blue flowers background: geralt
paper dolls background: PublicDomainPictures
inside curl of wave background: Unsplash
double hearts background: Alexas_Fotos
baby footprint in the sand background: mintchipdesigns

Pictures that didn't make the cut, but I wanted to share them anyway: