Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2) Read online

  “I’m sorry, David. I’m so sorry for all of this.” My voice is so quiet that I’m not sure he hears me at first until I see him stiffen up.

  I continue, “I knew it would come to this, a time when you couldn’t even look at me without seeing what I’ve done to you. If I could change the past, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat.”

  I turn to go back inside when I hear the water shut off and suddenly he’s right in front of me. He picks me up and backs me up against the bricks, my legs locking instinctively behind him. I look up at him in surprise, “Dav—”

  His mouth covers mine, effectively silencing my words. I’m sure I’ve got grease stains on my clothes, but I couldn’t care less right now.

  When he pulls back, his fierce blue eyes pin me with their gaze, “Never you. Do you hear me? There will never be a point that I won’t want you. You don’t owe me an apology. Mike just said some stuff at the station earlier—got in my head. He told me to quit chasing after someone who didn’t want to be caught.”

  I inhale sharply, “He thinks you’re wasting your time?”

  He tightens his grip on me before answering, “Yeah. It got me thinking that maybe I’m coming on too strong with you. I told you I was going to win you back and I intend to keep that promise, but I need to know that you want this too. Even if it’s just a small part of you.”

  I don’t hesitate, “I want this too.” Damn the repercussions.

  Surprise flashes in his eyes for a moment and then it’s gone and he reclaims my mouth.

  I pull back, breathing hard. “Does this mean we can have sex now?” I’m pressed right up against his jeans and based on what I’m feeling, I’m hoping his answer is a resounding yes.

  He laughs and shakes his head, “No. I wanna take this slow. There’s no need to rush anything.”

  I close my eyes and groan, “You’re killing me over here.”

  He leans down until his forehead rests against mine. “I said we’re not having sex. I never said I wouldn’t keep you satisfied.”

  My eyes fly wide open, “Oh really?” I chuckle, “You’re using the phrase I gave you when we were dating against me now? I’m surprised you remembered.”

  He shifts me in his arms, “Well, I’m more surprised that you remember. It does feel like starting over though, yeah?”

  I nod, relishing in the heat of the sun and the feel of his arms around me. I could stop time right now and be perfectly content. My mind has other plans though. There are things I haven’t asked him, questions I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to. I feel like if we’re going to attempt to make this work, I need to know.

  I break the silence, “Do you think it’s your baby?”

  His jaw tightens, “No, I don’t.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat, “How…um…I mean, do you know…” I trail off, unsure of how to ask the question.

  “Just spit it out, Beth.” He sounds so defeated in this moment that I wish I could take back the words. I don’t want to cause a bigger rift between us, but I need to know.

  “How many times were you and her…together?”

  He gently sets me back on my feet and takes a step back, “We’re doing this right now?” He sighs, “Okay. I slept with her three times. Your turn. How many times were you with him?”

  Suddenly the heat isn’t as welcoming as I previously thought. I turn, without a word, and walk inside. He follows me.

  “That’s not fair, Beth. You asked me a question that I truthfully answered. I deserve the same from you.”

  I take a deep breath and turn around, “I don’t know, David. I don’t know how many times Landon and I slept together. A lot of it is still a blur. You happy now?”

  He nods through clenched teeth, looking anything but happy.

  I soften my voice, “You slept with her after your dad died. When were the other two times?”

  “You’re sure we have to have this conversation right now?” He sits down on the arm of the couch, the same place he was sitting the night I found out about the affair. The irony is not lost on me.

  “I just want to know as much as I can so we can figure out how to move forward. I don’t want to run into her again and not know. The last time was bad enough.”

  He holds his hand up, ‘Wait, what happened the last time you saw her?”

  “She confronted me over the whole thing, wanted me to know that she never meant to hurt me. Shit you say to someone when you eat the last bar of chocolate—not what you to say to someone after you’ve slept with their husband.” I huff in frustration and he laughs at me. I’ve missed that laugh.

  “Last bar of chocolate? Girls apologize to each other for that stuff?”

  I nod my head in mock seriousness, “Absolutely. Chocolate is very important to us. Now, quit stalling.”

  He runs his hand through his beard, as though he’s trying to decide where to start. “I—shit, Beth—I’m an asshole. Okay? What I did…to you…to us…” He trails off and I go over to him, kneeling down between his legs.

  “You think what I did helped our relationship? I’m just as guilty as you are in this, so stop treating me with kid gloves.” I rest my arms on his muscular thighs and wait for him to continue.

  He takes a deep breath, “I always used protection, I swear to you,” he tucks a stray hair behind my ear, “There was the time after my dad died, the night you told me you were on birth control, and then she showed up at my hotel the night of the break-in.”

  He lowers his head and closes his eyes. Every word he’s spoken is like a knife into my heart. I’m gutted. By his posture, he’s waiting for me to run away. And the thought is in my mind, but I pushed him into telling me this. The masochist inside me felt this was all necessary. My inner romantic is scowling at me.

  My voice comes out quieter than I intended, “So, the night of the break-in, when I called you—she was there?”

  He nods and I finally ask the question I’ve held inside for over six weeks, “The night of the accident—was it intentional? Did you mean to run that light?”

  Her question shocks me. I’m not even sure what sound I make as I grab onto her arms. My beautiful girl thinks I caused the accident as a way to get rid of her?

  I swallow hard, “Baby, you really think I’m capable of something like that? You think I would knowingly put you in danger?”

  She uses her fingers to brush away the tears on her cheeks, “David, I don’t know what to think. It’s a lot to process, you know? I’m not accusing you of anything…I’m just trying to make sense of all of it.”

  I stand up and pull her into me, resting my chin on her head. “I was messed up after getting that phone call. Here I thought I’d been careful and she drops that bomb on me. The night of the break-in, after you called me, I was done. I didn’t want to be that man anymore. I thought we’d find our ground again, you and me, and then she told me she was pregnant. I was thrown—I was backtracking in my mind, trying to work out the timing. When I thought I lost you—Beth, it damn near killed me.”

  Her shoulders shake as she cries and I pull her closer.

  “David, I’m still trying to sort through fact from fiction. The wreck took a lot from me, and while I’ve recovered some of my memories, there’s a lot that’s still blank,” she pauses as she wipes away more tears, “While I don’t remember everything, I know you’re it for me. You’re the only man I’m ever going to love and call me selfish, but I don’t want to share you with Jess.”

  I tilt her chin up until she’s looking at me, “Then don’t. I’m all yours—I’ve only ever been yours…I just lost my way. My heart fucking belongs to you though, babe.”

  She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my mouth down over hers. I can’t get enough of the taste of her, my hands have a mind of their own, stroking up and down her arms. I can feel the goosebumps and I know her feelings are just as intense as mine.

  She pulls back, breathless, “So the sex thing… it’s still off the table? Seriously?”
/>   I grin at her, “Well, since we’re calling off the divorce, I guess I can make an exception.”

  Her face falls and she takes a step back. Definitely not the fucking reaction I was expecting from her. Then she rips my heart out all over again.

  “David, I don’t want to make any rash decisions just yet. I’m still trying to get my bearings here. I want to know what that paternity test says before moving forward one way or another.”

  I clench my molars down so hard I expect them to crack. What the actual fuck just happened here?

  “So, let me see if I understand this correctly. You want to take it slow and not make any rash decisions, but you want to have sex. Does that about cover it?”

  She purses her lips in an attempt not to cry, “David, please—”

  I try to keep my voice calm, but the rage is quickly surfacing, “No, Beth! You don’t get to have it both ways. And a ‘rash decision’ is filing for divorce and having your husband served instead of trying to work things out—not the other way around.”

  She moves closer to me, “Do not yell at me! I want to know what the paternity test says—as someone who would be responsible for helping you raise this kid, I am well within my rights to ask that from you.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to regain control of the situation, “You said you loved me, that I was the only man you were going to love. When did that become contingent on a paternity test, Beth?”

  She raises her voice, “I never said it was, David. I will love you regardless of what happens, but I am not going to stand by and have this physical reminder right in front of me—I would hate that poor child!”

  I stand there, stunned. Well, there it is. I grab my keys and head for the front door.

  Her voice calls after me, “That’s right, David. Leave. That’s what you’re good at doing!”

  My truck roars to life and I’m ready to snap. I’ve got to think. I want a drink more than I’ve ever wanted one, but I can’t let myself go back down that rabbit hole. I feel like I’m driving around aimlessly when it hits me. I’m running. It’s what I’m good at—Beth was right. I don’t know how to face any of this head on.

  I drive back to my hotel and begin throwing all my shit into a bag. I can’t stay here anymore. I check out and immediately get back into my truck. There’s only one place I can think to get rid of all of this tension.

  I’m drenched in sweat and every muscle in my body is screaming, but I keep pushing myself further. I’ve spent the last two hours at the gym, trying to find something to work out my frustration. I ran for ten miles and felt nothing. From there, I began lifting, but found that it only ratcheted that anger up even more. Now, I’m beating the shit out of a punching bag—it’s the only thing that feels satisfying right now.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I look up to see Mike standing there. “How’d you know I’d be here?” I wipe the back of my arm across my forehead, sweat is pouring off of me.

  He smirks, “You’re not the only one who’s good at stalking. I am a detective after all.”

  I stare at him, “You’re stalking me now?”

  He snickers, “No, dumbass,” and holds up his cellphone, “Find my Friends app said you were here. Thought you might need some company after my comments earlier. I was out of line, man. Beth is a fantastic woman, recent behavior notwithstanding, and you’d be a fucking fool to let her go.”

  I nod at him, the closest either one of us will get to apologies. “What happens if that test comes back, saying I’m the father? What the fuck am I gonna do then?”

  He wraps his hands with tape as he prepares to join me, “We cross that bridge when we come to it, man. Jess doesn’t seem like a ‘one man kind of girl’ from what you’ve told me, there have got to be other men that could be on the hook for paternity here.”

  I slam my fist into the middle of the bag. “Yeah, but so far I’m the only fish on the line.”

  Mike holds the bag steady as I rain my fury down on it. “Dave, you ever think of hiring someone to follow her? See what she’s up to? If you suspect she’s not being honest with you, then what do you have to lose?”

  I stop hitting the bag and step back, “That’s why I’m friends with you, Mike. Always thinking like a detective.”

  He’s right. I could hire someone to keep tabs on Jess—see what she does and who she’s with when I’m not around.

  We box until my arms are weak, the anger finally giving way to something else. Something I didn’t think I’d have after this afternoon. Hope.

  I hear David’s truck as he goes speeding down the street. “Fuck!” I take a throw pillow off the couch and launch it across the room in anger. I immediately think of the baby, “Sorry, bean. Mommy shouldn’t use words like that.” I don’t even know if the baby can hear me this early in the pregnancy, but I’ve apologized nonetheless.

  The man makes me crazy with lust one minute and ready to murder him the next. I mean, in hindsight, it was probably a bit much to ask for a physical relationship without being willing to call off the divorce. I’m just not ready to withdraw everything yet, especially if there’s even the smallest chance that he’s the father of Jess’s baby. In his mind though, it would just be one baby to work his life around—not two.

  I know I need to tell him the truth, I can only hide this for so long. Just this morning, I woke up to a slightly rounded belly. To anyone who didn’t know, I might just look like I had a big meal—but if David keeps coming around, he’s going to put two and two together rather quickly. I’m vomiting all the time yet getting bigger…it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

  Maybe once the paternity test results come back, I’ll tell him then. That is, unless they prove that he’s the father of Jess’s baby. Seriously, I’m surprised we haven’t been offered our own reality show yet. There’s only one way to calm my mind now.

  I spend the next few hours cleaning the house because some things never change. The floors get the brunt of my frustration and soon they’re gleaming in response.

  I’ve just sat down in my chair, ready to relax, when the doorbell rings. I smile to myself—I knew he wouldn’t stay gone for long. Now we need to call a truce or at least table the argument for a later date. I don’t want to fight anymore. I rub my belly; this poor baby has been exposed to so much drama already. I’m going to be better.

  I throw open the front door, “I knew you would—Landon? Why are you here?”

  He gives me a curt nod and brushes past me to get inside, “Elizabeth. I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

  I shake my head, “No. I don’t, and I think it would be best if you left.”

  He completely ignores that and begins pacing the living room. “We’ve got a little problem, Elizabeth. You told the special investigator something that wasn’t true today.”

  I stare stupidly at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He begins running his hands through his hair almost obsessively while still walking laps around the couch.

  “Elizabeth, you told the investigator that Katya and I broke up. That isn’t true though. I don’t know if it’s a result of losing your memory in the car wreck or what, but Katya and I are still dating. Hell, I was actually about to propose when she went missing.”

  I’m sure my mouth is hanging wide open, I’m utterly dumbfounded right now, “But the coffee date—um, you asked me out for coffee?” Was that a question or a statement?

  He sighs heavily and sits down on the edge of the sofa. I bite back the urge to tell him that he’s sitting in David’s spot. “Elizabeth, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to mislead you—I knew you had to be going through a rough time and I wanted to offer my support.”

  I lean back against the wall, my brain going ninety miles an hour in an attempt to make sense of what he’s telling me, “What about the night I found out, Landon?”

  “Do you love me?” I blurt the words out before I’ve fully had a chance to think it through. Remembering his actions at the bar
that night makes me regret asking almost immediately.

  He doesn’t even hesitate, “Yes, and you love me.”

  He smiles at me and those dimples could be my undoing, “Um, about that. Katya knew about you—told me if I couldn’t get you out of my system, she was leaving. She and I had only been back together for a few months,”

  At this revelation, his eyes tear up, “I had you under my skin and I wanted to see if there was still a spark between us. When I went to your work and told you that we’d broken up—you blew me off. I was ready to wash my hands of the situation when I saw your friend out at a bar one night. She was bragging to someone about screwing your husband behind your back—”

  I gasp in hurt. She told people? I blink quickly to dispel the tears that have started gathering in my eyes.

  Landon jumps up and comes over to embrace me. I’m too shell-shocked to fight him.

  He continues, “Once I knew the truth, I couldn’t walk away from you. You are such a beautiful person inside and out—I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave your bed. I didn’t want to approach you until I had all the facts. By the time I made up my mind that you deserved the truth with or without proof, you’d been in the car wreck. I’ll never forgive myself for keeping it from you—”

  He folds his hands like he’s praying and brings them under his chin, “I’m the reason you were in that car wreck. If I’d told you sooner, you wouldn’t have been with him that night…you would’ve been safe.”

  I’m holding my hands over my mouth to stifle the sobs now. What is wrong with me? I ran back into David’s arms so quickly without stopping to consider the consequences of my actions.

  Landon pulls my hands away from mouth, “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t cry—” He pulls me into his hard chest again, “I think about what we could’ve been together…do you ever think of us? I mean—what we could’ve been if you found out about the lies sooner?”

  I shake my head, “I’ve been so disgusted with my behavior. I cheated on my husband with you—I don’t let myself go there because I don’t recognize that woman.”