When we reached the spot where she’d first shared this beach with me, I spread out the blanket and pul ed her down beside me. We laughed as we fought against the wind. It whipped around us while we shared our meal of fruit and cheese and champagne in smal plastic cups over timid smiles of expectation.
Neither of us could stop grinning by the time we’d finished.
“Come here.” I extended my hand and helped her settle between my legs so she could lean against my chest.
I hugged her close as we looked out over the darkened water that rippled and gleamed in the moonlight and whispered against the back her head, “I love you so much, Elizabeth.”
She nodded against my chest and clasped her hands over mine that held her to me.
I turned her and pul ed her up to her knees, before I shifted to bow in front of her on one of mine. We both knew why we were here, and I already knew what her answer would be, but it didn’t keep my hands from trembling as I fumbled through my coat pocket and drew out the smal , black box. I lifted the lid, held out my modest offering, and with it, forever promised my heart.
“Be my wife.”
Tears flowed down Elizabeth’s face, but this time they were different—fil ed with joy and hope and a love no longer kept hidden and restrained. She nodded and whimpered a little as I took the simple platinum solitaire from its box and slid it onto her finger and to its rightful place—six years late and bittersweet—but sweet nonetheless.
We both stared at her hand for a few moments, absorbing the moment, realizing the commitment we had just made. My smile was one of devoted elation as I looked back up at her. Hers was soggy and irresistible. Tugging her to me, I wrapped my arms around her back and kissed her. I held her face in my hands and whispered, “I love you.” She didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Christian.” We gathered our things, anxious for home. As always, the neighborhood was quiet as we pul ed onto her street.
Houses sparkled with Christmas lights. Plastic Santa Clauses and reindeer stood glowing in front yards and on roofs, and fake snow that would never fal in San Diego decorated windows.
Tomorrow, Lizzie would see real snow for the first time.
I parked in the driveway and rushed around to help Elizabeth from the car. We walked hand-in-hand to her door and locked it behind us. It took only a split second for desire to grab hold of us, to swal ow us in silence, to leave us staring at each other with quickened pulses and pounding hearts. Elizabeth said nothing but tugged on my hand and led me upstairs and to her room.
I stopped at the threshold, turned her to look at me, and held her face in my hands. “Are you sure, Elizabeth?” There would be no more assumptions, and I would take no more of what she wasn’t ready to give.
She placed her hand on my chest, ran it up to the back of my neck and into my hair, and pul ed me down to her mouth. Her kiss was slow and maddening, and she whispered softly against my lips, “I’m yours.” My hands found her hips, and I kissed her, gentle as I edged her back into the muted light of her room. Our movements were slow, tender, and adoring. Standing in the middle of the room, we slowly undressed each other.
Careful y, I picked her up and cradled her in my arms, laid her down on her bed—our bed.
My condo had been put on the market a couple of weeks before, and we’d live here until Elizabeth’s house sold. We both wanted something similar, a comfortable home where Lizzie could run and play but closer to our beach and a couple of rooms larger so we could fil them with a brother or sister or two. My spirit soared as I thought of another addition to this family, as I thought of watching Elizabeth’s bel y grow with another child, of standing by her side, and of being there when it was brought into this world.
I could only imagine the doting big sister Lizzie would be, her amazement at a new life, the wonder that would fil her eyes.
That would have to wait, though. Elizabeth and I would marry this summer, and we needed to take time for the three of us to learn how to be the family we were always supposed to be before we added to it.
I stared down at where I’d laid Elizabeth on our bed, the curves of her naked body ful y exposed and entrusted to me. Her body was thinner than what I had known before, the cut of her legs and shoulders defined, though her stomach was no longer perfectly flat, and smal , silvered lines were barely visible on her pelvis where Lizzie had permanently left her mark.
Love and devotion pumped through my veins as she so freely bared herself to me.
“You are so beautiful, Elizabeth.”
She gazed up at me, her eyes damp and steeped in emotion. She extended her hand and beckoned me to her.
I climbed onto the bed, hovered over her with my hands cradling each side of her head, and dipped down to kiss her deeply. Her hands were firm and like fire as they moved up my back and down over my sides.
I pul ed away to whisper her name, “Elizabeth.” I moved to kiss her over her heart and murmured, “Thank-you.” Once again, I found her mouth and lowered myself down to her. I wrapped her up in my arms, chest to chest, skin to skin, rested on my elbows so I could hold her precious face between my hands. I pushed her hair away from her face and let it bil ow out over her pil ow, stunned again by her beauty. My eyes bore into hers, seeking understanding, praying that she ful y and final y believed. “I love you so much, Elizabeth.”
She brought a trembling hand up to my face, ran her fingertips over my lips, her ring shimmering prominent and proud, and whispered, “I know.” Her eyes glistened as I smiled softly down at her and pressed a closed-mouthed kiss against the sweetness of her lips, brought her palm to my face, and kissed her there. Her heart pounded against my chest as I shifted and settled between her legs. Her breaths came short and rapid, the pulse in her neck drumming under my hands. Swal owing, I gripped her shoulders and slowly slid into her body, made us one. Her mouth dropped open in a soundless gasp; her fingers
burrowed in the skin of my back. For a few moments, we remained stil , locked to each other, body and soul, our eyes intense and fil ed with this desire that had never escaped us, brimming with a love that should have died in its affliction but had only seemed to grow.
Elizabeth raked her fingers up my back and to my shoulders, setting me aflame and in motion. I moved in her slow and hard as she rose to meet me with shal ow moans and murmurs of love, our bodies speaking of unshakable commitment
and
eternal
faithfulness,
a
reverent
consummation.
Never would I take what I’d been given for granted. I’d never look at her through indifferent eyes, listen to her fears and worries with distant ears, or touch her with impassive hands. Elizabeth was a gift, and Lizzie was my treasure. I would adore my family until the day I died.
No longer would I live in regret, striving to make up for what I’d done. I’d live for the day, each one set out and purposed to be the best father and husband I could be. And no matter what life brought our way, I would never walk away.
The plane sat at the end of the runway, rumbled and whined as its engines wound and roared. Lizzie sat beside me, her body vibrating with both excitement and anxiety of the unknown. Her eyes were consuming as she looked up at me with trust through her fear. I extended my hand, palm up, and she placed her tiny hand in mine, one that now bore a delicate gold ring. While Elizabeth and I had made promises to each other last night, this morning we had made promises to our daughter.
As the plane barreled down the runway, I clasped my hand around Lizzie’s and grinned down at her while she smiled anxiously up at me. Elizabeth shifted, rested her head on my shoulder, and her left hand on my chest, watching the vibrant diamond as it danced. She smiled over at Lizzie and then up at me. I brushed my lips across her forehead and couldn’t contain the smile on my face.
We sped, lifted and dipped, and ascended toward the sky. Lizzie giggled with the sensation, looked back over at us with wide eyes, and said, “Here we go!” I squeezed my daughter’s
hand.
Here we go.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Table of Contents
Chapter 17
Amy Lichtenhan, Take This Regret
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