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“Touch yourself.” My voice comes out rough with desire.
She slides her hand between us, finding her clit, and her walls flutter around me as she works herself. “That’s it.” I change my angle to hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out. “Let me feel you come.”
She presses harder on her clit and throws back her head, tensing her whole body. Her pussy clamps around me as she comes, coaxing me to come, and with a shout of relief, I let go, spilling myself inside her.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, her head tucked beneath my jaw. What’s just happened settles over us. It’s not just the physical joining, but the emotional commitment we’ve finally made to each other that fills the space between us. “I love you.” The words come easier now, like they’ve been waiting for this moment to finally be spoken. “I love you so much it scares me.”
She tilts her head to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Don’t be scared. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us.”
“Even though I kidnapped you?” Shame fills me at the question. I thought she was Irina, and I’m glad she wasn’t. I can’t bring myself to regret taking her though.
“Maybe because you kidnapped me.” She laughs softly. “If you hadn’t, we never would have met. Our daughter never would have existed. Sometimes, the most beautiful things come from the most unlikely beginnings.”
I stroke her hair, marveling at how right this feels. “No more secrets between us. No more holding back.”
“No more secrets.” She presses a kiss to my chest, directly over my heart. “Just us and our family and whatever comes next.”
“What comes next is a new house. Somewhere with no history and no associations with my old life. Somewhere we can start fresh.”
“I’d like that, and I have been looking at the listings you’ve sent me. None have really screamed ‘this is it’ yet though.” Her voice is growing drowsy, the emotional intensity of the afternoon finally catching up with her. “I want somewhere with a big yard for her to play in. Maybe a garden where we can grow vegetables.”
“Whatever you want. A garden, a swing set, six dogs, and a white picket fence if that’s what makes you happy.”
She laughs sleepily. “I never thought I was a white picket fence kind of girl.”
“You’re whatever kind of girl you want to be. That’s the point of starting over.”
23
Sabrina
The letter arrives on a Tuesday morning while I’m eating breakfast in the sunroom, officially addressed to me in crisp hospital letterhead that makes my stomach clench with familiar dread. For three years, correspondence from Mercy General has meant nothing but bad news with another bill, another collections notice, or another reminder of the crushing debt my mother’s final months left behind.
I set down my orange juice and stare at the envelope, willing myself to open it and face whatever fresh financial nightmare awaits inside. The baby chooses that moment to kick, a sharp jab against my ribs that makes me wince and place a protective hand over my belly. “It’s okay, little one,” I whisper. “Mama’s just being a coward about opening mail.”
I tear open the envelope with shaking fingers and unfold the single sheet of paper inside. The words swim in front of me as I try to process what I’m reading.
Dear Ms. Clyde,
We are writing to inform you the outstanding balance on account #847291 has been paid in full. As of today’s date, you have no remaining financial obligations to Mercy General Hospital regarding the care provided to Elizabeth Clyde during her treatment period.
Please consider this letter official confirmation that all debts associated with this account have been satisfied.
I read the letter three times before the words finally penetrate the fog of disbelief clouding my thoughts. Paid in full. No remaining obligations. All debts satisfied.
“That’s impossible,” I say aloud, my voice echoing in the empty sunroom. I grab my phone and call the hospital’s billing department, convinced this has to be some kind of mistake. After being transferred twice and placed on hold for what feels like forever, a pleasant woman named Carol confirms what the letter states.
“Yes, Ms. Clyde, the balance was paid on Friday afternoon via a wire transfer for the full amount, including interest and fees. Your account shows a zero balance.”
“But who paid it? There has to be some record.”
“I’m sorry, but payment information is confidential. I can only confirm the debt has been satisfied.”
I hang up and stare at the letter again, my mind racing through possibilities. The total amount was over twelve thousand dollars. I don’t know anyone with that kind of money just lying around, and even if I did, I can’t imagine who would make such a gesture without telling me.
Unless...
The thought steals my breath and makes my heart race simultaneously. There’s only one person in my life now who has the resources to make a debt this size disappear without missing a single meal. It has to be…