Page 134 of The Betrayal
“Yeah, but also comforting,” I nod, my hands resting on top of Keaton's now.
“I really missed you,” his voice blankets me in warmth, his eyes penetrating through mine and my heart bangs against my rib cage, trying to escape and eclipse Keaton’s.
“I really missed you,” it's not a lie. Far from it actually. Things just feel right when I am with him. He is home. My lungs burn, my throat aching with the want to tell him how much I love him. But I don't.
I ignore it until I feel like I am suffocating.
Don't care.
I can't be vulnerable yet. Maybe soon. Just not yet.
Everything in my head is a mess and I need to declutter.
Reluctantly, I move. Well, try to. Keaton helps me up like the doctor showed him. A soft grip round my elbow as he gently pulls me to my feet. I give him a small smile, his eyes not leaving mine.
“I'm going to draw a bath.”
“No, I’ll go and do it. Then you can relax, and I'll start unpacking,” he smiles at me before disappearing out of the living room and upstairs. I waddle towards the kitchen, reaching for a glass and filling it with water. I drain it, then fill it again. Shouldn't have, because I will need to pee in about thirty seconds. Climbing the stairs slowly, I feel out of breath. The babies are still sitting high and are squashing every organ in my torso. We decided to keep the babies gender a surprise. I think boys. Keaton thinks girls. Cravings are a mix between sweet and sour. No old wives tales are leading me in any direction of which sex they could be. We agreed as long as they were healthy, that's all that mattered.
I walk into my room and Keaton comes out of my bathroom, shirt sleeves rolled round his elbows, veiny, thick, muscly arms on show and I am weak. Hormones are killing me. I am soaked. Can feel it. He can probably see it in my light denim maternity pants. His hungry eyes rake over me and my cheeks flame. I drop my head. Can't look at him. It's too much. I walk past him and into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind me and only then do I breathe easier.
Stripping my clothes from my body, my brown hair has grown longer since being pregnant and now falls past my shoulders. I let my eyes lift, looking at my reflection in the mirror in front of me. Caramel skin glowing, eyes full of hope, hair thick and glossy, boobs full and round and a cute, but large, swollen bump. I turn to the side, crinkling my nose when I see my stretch marks that bite into the skin on my hips. Love to hate feeling with them. Love them because of my twins, hate them because I miss my perfect skin. Turning away, I dip my toe into the warm water and my body relaxes in an instant. Sinking under the water, my bump pokes out and I smile as I watch for the little hands and feet that press out of my skin. This pregnancy has flown by and it's bittersweet. I have had such an easy pregnancy since the hospital; it's just not how I would have planned it. Wanted to be well in my thirties before I had kids. But destiny chose this for me. For us. Twenty-two and nearly a mom of twins. Wow.
Towel wrapped—just about—around my body, I rough dry my hair with a towel. I brush my teeth and cleanse and moisturize my face before padding into my room. I reach for a little two piece. It's still cold, but I feel like a furnace. Even more so after my bath. I dress in a white ribbed cropped top and matching frilly shorts that sit under my bump. Soft cotton material and covered in cherry blossom.
I brought them because Keaton calls me Blossom.
Love the nickname. Only heard it a handful of times but it's a favorite. My hair is dry, my skin is moisturized, and I debate going back downstairs, but just as I walk out of my room, Keaton appears on the landing with my suitcase.
“Oh, hi,” I whisper, my eyes glued to his as I watch them fall down my body. My heart. I have missed the way he looks at me. Adoration. Want. Lust. Like I am his forever.
“Wife,” his lips twitch and my skin burns.
I step back, letting him pass with my bag and watch as he bends and places it at the foot of the bed.
Slowly turning I look at him, his hands are folded into his suit pants, head tilted slightly with a boyish grin on his face. I step closer and back into my room.
“What?” my cheeks blush and I hate it. Maybe. Maybe not.
“God,” he pauses, voice low with a hint of rasp, “you're beautiful.”
“Keat...” I trail off, dropping my face to the floor and focus on my feet before his are there too.
Two steps and he is here.
His finger and thumb find my chin, gripping and tipping my face up so I have no other choice but to let his soul burn into mine, taking me as prisoner and I didn't care that he threw away the key. I was ready to burn for him, calming into embers before withering out into nothing but ash. Only for him. Captured and bound in the depths of his heart and I never wanted to leave. He had all of me.
I knew where this was going. It shouldn't, but we both know that as soon as we're together, an invisible string, an invisible force, pulls us together until we orbit eternity intwined as one.
“Keat...” I repeat, breathless, my eyes on his lips and my whole body trembles.
“Blossom,” and my heart flatlines for just a moment, arms around his neck before his lips are on mine and that's when my heart rate picks up. Bit by bit we piece each other back together until there is nothing left but us, as one, whole.
KEATON
I stand at the foot of the bed, hands enveloped into my suit pants, head slightly tilted to the right as my eyes roam over her. Pretty little pajama set. Cropped tank, frilly shorts. White, ribbed with cherry blossoms. Perfection. A grin slips onto my lips, and she catches it. Of course she does.
“What?” her cheeks pinch with that pretty pink that I love and my heart flutters, dick instantly hard. Fuck’s sake.