Pulled(79)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Luckily, Melanie agreed, groaning at my touch.

“That…feels…so…good.”

I kissed the back of her head, my nose immersed in her rich, brown curls. Swimming in the perfume that was only Melanie, I all owed her aura to ground me. My nerves had spiked, just a bit, knowing where this evening was going. I just had no idea what her reaction would be.

Al I knew was I wanted her. I needed to share my life with her—completely—not this messed up situation where I was awarded only a smal all owance of her. I was already wholly hers, and I could not bear another day where she was not wholly mine. Above all of that, though, I needed her safe.

While we waited for our dinner to cook, we moved to the couch, sipped our wine, and immersed ourselves in conversation until the buzzer called us to dinner.

The casserole was every bit as good as I

remembered, maybe even better. I was sure that impression had a lot to do with the fact that Melanie and I were spending our first Christmas together in nearly a decade. I was now a firm believer in the old adage that you could never truly appreciate something untillyou had been without it.

The room was dim as we ate by candlelight.

Melanie’s face glowed, not just from the flicker of the light, but with her joy. The smile on her face never faded. Her cheeks were the perfect shade of rose, emitting waves of heat, drawing me in. I found myself constantly reaching out to touch the soft flesh, running the back of my hand over her precious face. We laughed and loved as we ate and drank.

We celebrated us. This was a meal I would never forget.

“Merry Christmas, Daniel.” She looked at me, her expression soft, adoring. She reached out to take my hand under the table, running the pad of her thumb over the back of my hand, her touch so calming yet always fire, never a contradiction.

I intertwined my fingers with hers and stood. Her body a magnet to mine, she echoed my movements and rose as well. “Merry Christmas, Melanie.” I kissed her tenderly, gently, savoring the remnants of saltiness on her mouth as it mingled with her constant sweet. I lingered, manifesting my every affection.

I led her to the fire. The embers glowed red, the flames jumping, crackling, tinged in blue, providing the only light in the room. I helped her to the floor, staring unabashedly as she curled her long legs under her and settled down in front of me.

I didn’t know I was so nervous until I realized my hands were shaking.

I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out the smal box, tentatively placing it on the floor in front of her.

Melanie gasped, her eyes flitting between the box and me. “Daniel…I…I don’t have anything for you.” As if I could ever want anything other than her.

“Shh, baby, you’ve already given me everything.

And…it’s old.”

I’d held on to it for a very long time.

She began to reach for it, and I stopped her. “I need to say something first.”

She looked at me, confused as she withdrew her hand. She waited expectantly while I wrestled with how to best get this out.

“Melanie, sweetheart, you know how much I respect you, right?”

She nodded without hesitation.

“Good. Because I need you to believe I’d never try to controllyou. But I can’t let you go back there. It’s not safe.” She immediately refused, just as I knew she would. “No, it’s not safe for me to leave yet. He’ll know why.

We have to give it more time.”

“He’s going to find out anyway. We don’t have more time.” I lowered my voice, running my fingers through the lock of hair that had fal en in her face, pushing it back in place. “We can’t hide this forever, and you can’t be in that house when he finds out.”

Slowly, she shook her head. I could see how badly she wanted to agree, but her judgment was clouded. Her fear dominated, fil ing her with doubt.

“Do you really think anything is ever going to change, Melanie? The only thing these last two months have accomplished is making him tighten his hold on you.

Another two months aren’t going to make a difference, either.”

She was silent, her eyes closed.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” Tears began to stream down her face, breaking free. Her hands twisted in the fibers of the rug, her knuckles white as she gripped at it. She whispered, “I’m scared.” I ground my teeth together and clenched my jaw as the overwhelming need to kil flared again. I tried to focus on her and not the hurt I so desperately wanted to inflict on Nicholas.

“I know, baby. He wants you to be. Don’t you see that? He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how to controllyou. You are so strong, sweetheart, but you have to use it the right way-”

She surprised me by cutting me off. “Okay.” She opened her eyes, nodding but still crying.

I closed the short distance, grasped her face in my hands and kissed her, closed mouthed and hard. My relief was intense, overpowering. I pulled away, glancing down at the space between us, drawing her attention to the little velvet box. “Open it.”

She flashed me a soggy, full -toothed grin, and she dried her eyes with her sleeve. She picked up the box and ran her fingers over the velvet top. “Thank you, Daniel. You didn’t have to.”

Gingerly, she lifted the lid, smiling as she inspected the obviously antique ring, a relic from long ago.

She freed it from its confines. “Oh, it’s so beautiful,” she whispered as she brought it closer, holding it up to examine the detail. She ran a finger over the thick band of white gold encrusted with diamonds that shimmered in the firelight. As she rol ed it over, a cry escaped her mouth.

“Oh, my God, Daniel, is this?”

Chapter 25

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control the tremors that hit me, rol ing through every muscle of my body with the onslaught of emotion.

It was the same inscription as my necklace, the intertwined D & M, except for the date running along the base of it

April 28, 2001.

“Oh, my God, Daniel, is this?”

I searched his face, his eyes so hopeful, full of his promise of forever. His voice cracked when he spoke, “Willyou wear it?”

I was crying, probably too hard, but I couldn’t stop.

I found myself only able to whisper his name, praying he could feel what this meant to me even if I couldn’t voice it.

He wanted me to wear my wedding ring.

“I’d had it engraved before…before the accident,” he said, rushing over the words before taking a deep breath. “I could never part with it because in my heart, you were my wife. I want you to know I intend to make that a reality and soon. But for now, willyou wear what was meant for you so long ago?”