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I want to go to bed and pull the sheets over my head. I want to spend an entire night pretending that this never happened and then tomorrow I want to pick up the pieces.
But I know that won’t bring me the closure I need.
“Can we take my dad’s pictures to the beach and burn them?”
Christian leans forward and pecks me in the lips. “Absolutely.”
It doesn’t take long for us to print off every picture I have of my father.
We load the truck bed with the pictures and some blankets before heading out.
The ride to the lake is silent, but that’s what I need right now.
I don’t need Christian sitting there and asking me if I’m okay when we both know that I’m not.
Thankfully, he doesn’t. He holds my hand as we drive, his thumb drifting in slow circles over the back of it.
By the time we park, the moon is high in the sky, and the stars are shining overhead.
Christian hops out of the truck and gets a fire going while I grab the box of pictures.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I sit by the fire and slip picture after picture into it.
When the last picture is in the fire, we climb into the bed of the truck.
Plumes of smoke twist and turn high in the sky as we lay down and look at the stars.
“When we have children, I never want them to have to go through what my parents put me through,” I say, my voice soft.
Christian props himself up on an elbow to look down at me. “We’re going to make sure that they have a better life than either of us ever had. We’re going to give them the world, and they’re going to know exactly how much they are loved.”
I swallow hard as tears blur my vision. “And I don’t want them around my mother either. Not ever. She was a horrible mother, and I don’t want that poison in our lives anymore.”
“I have no problem with that.” He smiles.
I try smiling back. “I want us to have a good life together. One where our children feel safe.”
“So,” Christian says, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “When do you want to start practicing for these children?”
I laugh, feeling better than I have in days.
Somehow, he always knows what to say to make me feel better, even if it is just for a moment.
“I love you.” I reach up to run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “I’m bruised up, though. I’m not going to be much fun tonight.”
He grins. “I love you too. You don’t have to worry about doing a damn thing, Zoe. Just lay there and let me worship that body.”
Heat floods through my body at his words, wetness pooling between my thighs.
He smirks as he moves to hover over me.
When his mouth collides with mine, stars dance behind my eyes.
With a moan, I sink my fingers into his hair and pull him closer.
He presses his hips against me, the curve of his cock digging into my hips.
I hook one leg around his waist as he slides a hand beneath my shirt and cups my breast.
