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Once the ceremony is over, we head to a large ballroom in the mansion for the reception. After my sister and best friend have their first dance, the emcee invites everyone to dance and I don’t hesitate to grab my girl and whisk her around the dance floor. Her body is heaven against mine, and I have to think of something else so I don’t embarrass myself. My dick just doesn’t know how to behave when she’s around.
As we dance to a love ballad, I look down at her and realize I love her. I’ve been fighting with myself because it’s only been a few months, and I keep telling myself that it’s just lust and infatuation from being deprived for so long. That I can’t possibly fall in love this fast.
I have a past... a girlfriend, Laci, who I was in a relationship with the horrible night I left that bar and took a woman’s life, leaving behind a husband and a little girl whose devastated, teary blue eyes in that courtroom will haunt me for the rest of my life. Laci left me as soon as I received the six-year sentence, and I didn’t bat an eye. Laci’s personality could be described as vapid and only skin-deep. She was selfish and cared too much about appearances. She had made it clear several times that she thought I was good-looking and was proud to have me on her arm in public. It never went deeper than that. I thought I’d started to have feelings, but she showed her true colors when she promptly sent my sister a text asking her to “relay the message” to me. And relay it she did, when Taryn visited me in jail after my sentencing.
I couldn’t even be sad. Taryn was furious but I told her to drop it and just leave Laci alone. I wouldn’t expect anyone to wait for me for six years, knowing I’d come out of there a changed man. Let alone someone like her. I barely thought about her while I was inside. I learned quickly to leave the street business behind and only worry about keeping myself healthy and, well, alive and unstabbed while there.
I force awful thoughts away, and smile down at my girl. She puts her hand on my cheek. “Thought I lost you there for a minute.”
“It’s something you’ll have to get used to, unfortunately. But I always return.” I kiss her forehead.
“You know, Eric. I’m a good listener. Anytime you want to talk about anything you’ve been through, I will listen and not judge. I know what happened, and in great detail thanks to Taryn, so nothing you say can surprise me. I just don’t bring it up because I feel like it’s your story to tell.”
God, could she be any more perfect?
“Thank you. Maybe one day, gorgeous.” I reach a hand up and brush hair away from her face. I want to tell her I love her, but I refrain.
The emcee says something about dinner, so we sit at the head table with the couple, but I have to give a toast first.
As soon as everyone’s quieted down, and the champagne has been served, I tap my spoon against my glass and stand. Someone appears out of nowhere and hands me a microphone.
Keep it together, man. Do not choke up.
Why am I so damn sensitive all the time? I didn’t used to be like this. I was so hard in prison. Never shed a tear past the initial night, when I vowed I wouldn’t fucking cry ever again.
I clear my throat and begin. “Carter, my man. You know I wasn’t exactly happy with you dating my little sister.”
The wedding party and some of the guests chuckle.
“But after I put away my own selfishness, I realized you two were made for each other. You always were.” I look out at the crowd. “You should have heard the way Taryn talked about my best friend here during our high school years. She was just a little squirt, always trying to get Carter’s attention.” I smirk at my sister, then Carter, and my face sobers. “I guess she finally did.” She stares at Carter with such love her in eyes, I could never stay mad at either one of them. “Taryn, Carter, you two deserve all the happiness in the world, and I wish you both a lifetime of love and joy. Hear, hear!” I lift my glass as everyone claps. I don’t sip the alcohol when everyone else does, and I look down to see Christa with tears glistening in her eyes.
Aw, man. She’s gonna make me lose it, too.
I sit and slide my glass toward hers, picking up my water instead. She squeezes my hand under the table and I squeeze hers back before leaning down and placing a soft kiss her on her lips.
I love you.
***
After spending an intenseand frankly amazing night together, Christa leaves to go collect things from the mansion and drop them off at Taryn’s place, as she and Carter are off to their honeymoon.
“You sure you don’t want some help?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I’ve got a whole team over there already. Go to the gym, I know you want to.” She smirks.
She’s not wrong.
“Okay,” I say with a chuckle.
I kiss her goodbye and watch her drive off in her little blue BMW that is for sure a chick’s car.
After taking my pre-workout drink, I drive to the gym, check in, choose the squat bar, and set my things down, and then strap on my back support. I look around the gym, grateful for such a nice place to work out. The prison yard had one set of weights held down by cable ties and were often confiscated or locked up when the inmates would misbehave. I shake my head at the memories of us filling up trash bags with water or rocks and tying them to the ends of broom handles during those times so we wouldn’t miss a workout. I even taught a few guys proper ways to work out, and was rewarded with commissary items. A few of them got super buff, and I wondered if I hadn’t made a mistake in helping them. They could one day turn on me, after all. Thankfully, that never happened. Aside from a tense confrontation on my first day with the leader of the Whites, where I had to prove I wasn’t a sex offender, I did okay, but I was more or less forced to only associate with my race. It absolutely sucked. I had a friendship with a Black guy who was in for almost the same thing as me, and we’d talk to each other while working out, but that was about it. I hoped he was doing okay, as two people had died as a result of his drunk driving and his sentence was much longer. I shake my head to clear it of the ridiculous and petty prison politics, glad I won’t ever have to go back there.
Someone taps me on the shoulder and says something to me, so I remove the earbud that’s playing loud metal because it helps motivate me, and smile. “Yeah?”
He’s a big dude, and could stand to cut back on the carbs, but massive anyway. “Can you spot me?”
I nod, take a swig of water, and shove my earbud into my pocket so I can hear him if he says anything. He lies down on the bench and asks for 300 pounds, and after I oblige, I carefully lift the massively heavy bar and hand it to him.
