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I’m not completely sure I want to sell, but it doesn’t hurt to meet with someone and see what I could get for the house.
It takes me a bit to fill out the online form and then attach the photos that I’ve taken. Once that’s done, I walk down the hall to the bedroom across the hall from mine. The stagnant air hits me as I open the door. I wait for the crushing grief to hit me, but it doesn’t.
I step into the room, walking across to the crib, covered in a dust-covered sheet. I carefully pull it off and reach down, touching the spot where my son stopped breathing—where his heart stopped beating.
I suck in lungfuls of air as I pull the sheets off the dresser, changing table, and rocking chair. I carry them into the laundry room and stuff them in the washer. Hopefully washing them in hot water will clean them, if not I’ll just pitch them.
Back outside Gage’s room, I take a deep breath. I should’ve done this a long time ago. I open my tool kit and begin taking apart the furniture. It’s past two in the morning by the time I get the last of his baby clothes packed away.
I grab the two picture frames that were hanging on Gage’s wall and carry them into the living room. The first one is the day he was born. Hank is sitting behind me in the hospital bed with his legs hugging my hips.
Our boy is in my arms and Hank’s arms are wrapped around me, and his chin is resting on my shoulder. We’re smiling down at Gage with so much love. Tears drip onto the frame as stare at the picture. We were so happy that day.
I set it on the end table next to my spot on the sofa. The other one is his newborn photo. His naked little butt is up in the air and his legs are tucked up under him, and his daddy’s cut was hanging behind him.
He slept through the entire session. I set iton top of my entertainment center. “I love and miss you, baby boy,” I whisper softly. I kiss my fingers and then touch the picture with them.
Austin never liked to talk about mine and Hank’s son—he’d always change the subject. That should’ve set off the red flags, but I just blew it off and ignored every sign that said I should end things.
I walk by Gage’s room and grab the doorknob to shut the door, but instead I leave it open.
***
“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay?” Judy asks as I pull down my street.
I shake my head, but she can’t see me. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been playing catch up.” I see a motorcycle in front of the house and find Hank sitting on the front steps.
I park and that’s when I notice the For Sale sign lying on the ground. “Judy, your son is here. I’ll call you back.” I disconnect the call.
We’re not going to have it out in the front yard. I stomp up the sidewalk and around him on the stairs. He follows me inside and I shut off the alarm. I set my purse and messenger bag in the chair by the living room door.
I kick off my ballet flats and walk into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I turn around, expecting him to be following me, but he doesn’t. I step back into the living room and find Hank with the picture of the three of us in his hand.
He sets it down. “You’re not moving.” Hank’s not even looking at me as he says it. “It is not safe for you to move.”
“You can’t tell me what to do and if I move, Austin won’t know where to find me.” I stomp past him and down the hall to my bedroom, changing into a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and a T-shirt with the grade school I teach at logo on the front.
I know Hank is standing in the doorway watching me, but I ignore him, and the way my belly flutters. He watches as I twist my hair up into a knot on top of my head. “Please don’t sell this house.” I can feel him right behind me, almost touching me, but not.
“T-This house holds too many ghosts. It’s time for a fresh start.”
Hank wraps his arms around me from behind. “You can’t leave me again.” He sniffles. “I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you. You were drowning and kept pushing me away. I swear to God I went there for a fucking drink, just to give you some space.” He’s crying now…hard, and my heart shatters in my chest. “I’ll regret it, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, but I can’t regret it completely because of Tripp. Please don’t ask me to.”
I turn in his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Never, I’d never ask that of you.” I grabhis face in my hands. “You’re a good dad.” I use my thumbs to wipe away his tears. My heart beats wildly as I swallow the lump in my throat. “I forgive you.”
Hank’s eyes widen in surprise. “W-What?” he whispers.
Tears stream down my face. “I forgi—” That’s all I get out before he slams his lips down on mine. I freeze, but only for a second before I open my mouth to his seeking tongue.
Chapter Eight
Hank
My cock gets hard immediately as the taste of her explodes on my tongue. Fuck, I’ve missed kissing her—I’ve jerked off enough over the past five years, thinking about doing this very thing.
Her fingers sift through my hair and then she grabs it in her fists. I groan into her mouth at the little bite of pain. I reach behind her head, pulling the rubber band from her hair. The blonde waves spill around her shoulders and through my fingers.
I grab two big hanks of it—they feel soft against my fingers. Pulling her head back, I trail my mouth down her neck and nip her flesh. Brooke gives me a throaty moan that I feel all the way down to my dick. I move back up her neck and nip behind her ear.
