Page 33

Erin

As I walk into my house something about it triggers this overwhelming sense of exhaustion. My body suddenly feels heavy, like carrying myself to my bedroom is far more effort than I can give.

I collapse on the couch, my eyelids drooping slowly just as I hear the front door slam close, and Ryan falls down on the couch next to me.

He’s lying against the side of my body, his hand absentmindedly stroking my leg and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking because my thoughts are a scattered mess as I try to process what just happened.

“Are you okay?”

Ryan asks quietly, because the silence between us is far too unusual. There’s a strangeness that floats between us, like neither one of us wants to admit we’re relieved that Anthony’s dead. That what we both saw didn’t fuck us up completely.

“I think so,”

I respond a heartbeat later with Ryan letting out what sounds like a sigh of relief. “You?”

“I will be.”

And as his words leave his mouth, he takes my hand, pulling me up from the couch and toward the bathroom.

Ryan stops me before we enter the bathroom and begins to remove my clothes, tossing everything into a pile on the floor and then adding his own clothes. He covers my cast with the plastic sleeve they gave me at the hospital, and then he disappears for a moment, placing our clothes into the washing machine. But as he does, I call out.

“Please throw them away,”

my words nearly catching in my throat, because the picture that forms in my brain nearly makes me throw up all over again.

I know there will never come a time in my life where I will forget what I was wearing the day Anthony was killed. I will never be able to put on that sweater or those jeans, my socks, anything and not remember the blood splatter, the brain matter that covered them. Even though most of my clothes were spared because of my coat, they will always remain tainted by what happened.

It’s when I step into the bathroom that it all hits me. I slip past the mirror, everything going unnoticed as I start the shower. But it’s while I’m waiting for the water to heat up that I make the fatal mistake of looking into the mirror.

My face is still dotted with a few small droplets of blood, and my hair, a mess of tangled curls, is caked with dried blood and what I can only assume are parts of Anthony’s brain. The hospital made an attempt to clean me up, but without a shower small reminders remain. Something people could possibly overlook on a quick glance, but I know my father didn’t miss it.

Without checking the water temperature, I step into the shower and begin scrubbing at my face and hair, even though I know no amount of soap will rid me of this nightmare.

The water is hot and it scalds my skin, but I don’t stop even as my skin turns bright red and begins to itch.

When Ryan steps in, he jumps back out nearly immediately.

“Shit, Erin,”

he says, his teeth clenched.

“The water is way too hot.”

He then reaches in and adjusts the temperature making my body shudder when the shock of the temperature hits me.

With the temperature change comes the tears as I fall to the floor and begin to sob. My body heaving with each breath I take, shampoo running into my eyes, but don’t feel like I can move.

It’s Ryan that comes in and saves the day. Picking me up off the floor, he washes my hair as I cry against him. With each movement of his hands over my body, I feel safe and protected.

He’s with me no matter what.

I don’t know how long we stand in the shower, but when we finally emerge the water has run cold and I can barely stand on my own.

I pull on a t-shirt and underwear and climb into bed, and Ryan does the same, sliding in next to me. His arms wrap around my body, once again making me feel like I’m not totally damaged, that I’m not a fucked up mess.

“We need to see someone to help us both deal with what happened,”

Ryan says, his voice low, but comforting. I nod silently against his chest knowing I should’ve been seeing someone years ago.

Sleep doesn’t come easy for either of us despite the extreme exhaustion. The tossing and turning of our bodies keeping us both awake long after we should’ve been asleep. And when I finally do fall asleep, I’m plagued with haunting nightmares.

The morning sun streams through the windows as we sit at the kitchen table, each of us a full mug of coffee in hand. I can tell Ryan’s night was filled with nightmares and terrible what if scenarios also.

He’s been a cop for as long as I have been a teacher, but his time spent in that career doesn’t ease the trauma that comes from watching someone die at the hand of a sniper’s rifle.

No one is prepared for something like that.

I don’t think either of us knows what to say as we sit with our eyes focused on the steam rising from our cups. Ryan’s the first to speak and what he says shocks me more than anything else over the last few days.

“I quit my job.”

“What?”

I ask, my tone suddenly breathless.

Ryan looks up at me, his head cocked to one side, almost like he’s contemplating whether my shock revolves around the financial issue that may arise or if I think he’s making a rash decision.

“I can’t do it anymore, Erin,”

he says, his voice a plea for support.

“I can’t ever put myself in that situation again. I’m going to be a father.”

His last line comes out choked and I watch the tears form in his eyes.

I’m crying before either one of us speaks again.

“I don’t want you to…”

before I can finish my sentence Ryan interjects, stopping me with the assumption that he knows what I’m going to say.

“I want to resign. Nothing you can say will make me think differently. Yesterday I saw something I never want to witness again in my life. I don’t want to have to wonder if I’ll make it home to you or our baby. My life is not what it once was. You are my life.”

I nod my head in agreement, once again too overcome by the emotion of our situation to respond. Knowing that neither of us could’ve lived a healthy normal life with his job hanging over our heads, with the constant worry that something horrible might happen.

“I have money saved,”

Ryan continues, feeling like he has to defend his reasoning and that he won’t be a burden.

“I don’t care,”

I answer him, cutting into his words.

“I don’t care if we’re poor and we live paycheck to paycheck. I don’t care if you never work again, because you stayed. You stayed with me.”

Through everything that has happened the only important piece is that we are together, and no matter what happens we will get through this together.

By now I’m curled up in Ryan’s lap, my head against his chest as he silently cries into my hair. As much of a mess as we are right now, we are going to pull through.

Looking up at Ryan through my tear filled eyes, I kiss him softly on the lips, telling him I love him over and over.

He smiles down at me, and asks.

“How about we do something that will make us both happy?”

“Ryan, oh my fucking god, how can you possibly be thinking about sex right now?”

I ask, appalled at his ability to make everything about sex.

He lets out a loud laugh that echoes through the stillness of the house and it makes me smile. It breaks through the surface of our sadness and our trauma with a small bright spot.

“Okay,”

Ryan says, his hands held up defensively.

“I am always thinking about having sex with you, but in this case I was thinking we could call my parents and tell them you’re pregnant.”

Ryan sends his mom a quick text to make sure they’re home and when she replies that they are, we make the call.

I’m half sitting on Ryan’s lap, the computer resting on my legs as the screen indicates that we are connecting to Ryan’s parents.

“Relax, baby,”

Ryan whispers against my neck.

“I can hear your heart pounding from here.”

He laughs a little and rests his hand over my heart before pushing my hair to the side and kissing my neck.

Mary’s smiling face appears on the screen and she instantly says.

“This better be good news because I’ll kill both of you if you think that telling me something bad via FaceTime is a good idea.”

“Nothing bad, Ma,”

Ryan says, reassuring her as he kisses my neck again.

“You ready?”

he asks me, his smile beaming as he looks at me and then back at the screen.

I take a deep breath trying to quell the anxiety that has taken hold, as I hope that what we are about to tell Ryan’s family doesn’t come as too much of a shock.

“Erin’s pregnant!”

Ryan shouts and my mouth falls open like it’s the first time I’ve heard this news myself. His announcement seems sudden and rushed, and despite knowing I am in fact pregnant, the words still stop me in my tracks every time.

“Oh my god,”

Mary says, her excitement radiating off of her through her smile and the flush of her cheeks.

“This is the best news ever!”

Ryan’s dad nods in agreement as they both shower us with congratulations before Mary screams, “Sarah!”

and within seconds Sarah appears squatting down next to her mom.

“Erin’s pregnant!”

“I know,”

Sarah responds with an eye roll and a dismissive wave of her hand.

“This is old news, Ma.”

Sarah is still clearly pissed off at Ryan for shoving her out of our house just a few days earlier.

Mary swats at Sarah calling her a buzz kill and shooing her away, but before she leaves Ryan apologizes over and over for making her leave and invites her to spend New Year’s Eve with us. With reluctance, Sarah agrees and Ryan promises to make it up to her, telling her about a party that will be happening at Beck’s pub.

And despite Sarah being angry with Ryan I think I see a flash of excitement in her eyes when she says she’ll be in Rockport in a couple of weeks

The conversation ends with everyone congratulating us, and Ryan’s mom repeating how excited she is about the prospect of having her first grandchild.

Even though our morning was somber, we’ve been able to turn that around, ending the conversation on a positive note that leaves both Ryan and me smiling.

“Your family is amazing,”

I tell him as I shift so I’m straddling his hips.

“They’re your family now too, baby,”

he replies, brushing a stray hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear.

The last few days have been overwhelming and after talking to Ryan’s family, I’m on the verge of tears again. But hearing him tell me that his family is now mine, does me in. I’m crying all over again.

I’m never this emotional and I’d like to chalk it up to pregnancy hormones, but I know it is so much more than that. Finding Ryan has made my life complete and knowing we have a baby on the way, only adds to all these feelings. Creating a family with Ryan is something out of a dream and I can’t wait for our life together to begin.

“Baby, please stop crying,”

Ryan says, swiping his thumb at the tears on my cheek as he smiles at me.

“We’re going to be okay. All of us.”

With my arms still wrapped around his neck, I lean in and kiss him softly on the lips, but Ryan deepens the kiss. His hand slides up my back and tangles in my hair. Pulling me closer, he slips his tongue into my mouth and I exhale hard.

I push away from him, leaving him in the chair. I stand in front of him and pull my top up over my head; my breasts practically spilling out of the top of my bra cups, swollen and larger just over the last twelve weeks.

Ryan’s eyes rake over my body, appreciating me and making me feel wanted. He hooks a finger at me beckoning me to come closer.

I take a step and Ryan leans forward, sliding his hands around my waist, he presses a kiss to my stomach and runs his hand across the swell of my belly.

“I’m getting chubby,”

I say as he keeps his hand on my stomach. I slide my yoga pants down and kick them off to the side so I’m standing in just my bra and panties.

“I think you look perfect,”

he says, kissing his way up my body.

“Especially these.”

Ryan’s hands graze my ribs, slipping around to my back; he quickly releases the clasp on my bra.

My swollen breasts fall into Ryan’s hands as he lowers his head and takes my nipple into his mouth. Nibbling and sucking, each pull from his mouth has my hips moving.

I straddle Ryan’s thigh, lowering myself, I grind my pussy against his leg, desperate to feel him inside me.

My nipples pucker in his mouth as he continues to lick and bite at me, all of the sensation a direct line to my pussy.

I shove him back against the chair, pulling at his t-shirt so I can run my hands up the length of his broad muscular chest. As soon as I reach his shoulders, I drag my nails back down and Ryan groans out loud.

In that instant, he stands and lifts me until my legs are wrapped around his waist. I twist my fingers in his hair and connect my mouth with his as he makes his way to our bedroom.

Still cradled in his arms, Ryan climbs onto the bed and sets me down gently. His lips against my skin, kissing and licking and sucking at my neck, my collarbone, my breasts as his hands explore my body. He hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties and effortlessly glides them down my legs, leaving them to fall to the floor.

He has yet to end this burning desire that has taken over and I’m growing impatient.

“Ryan, just fuck me already,”

I insist and he chuckles against my skin.

“Not yet, baby. I want to enjoy everything that is new about you,”

Ryan says and begins kissing his way down my body. Reaching my bellybutton, his lips kiss a series of small, sweet kisses around it. He begins to make his way down a little farther, kissing as he goes and when he stops and whispers.

“I love your pink pussy,”

I nearly lose it.

“Fuck, Ryan,”

I growl and he just shakes his head and gives me a coy smile.

Using his shoulders he nudges my legs open wider and places his head between them. I’m shaking with anticipation by now, needing to come so badly that all it will take is one sweep of his tongue.

Ryan begins to nuzzle my lips with his nose, yet never giving me what I want, so I tangle my fingers in his hair and force his mouth to me.

“Don’t be greedy, baby,”

he murmurs, his voice anything but soothing.

“Please, Ryan,”

I beg and he spreads me with his thumbs as his tongue licks me from my entrance to my clit.

My hips buck up off the bed and Ryan begins to circle my clit with his tongue. He slips one finger inside me and that’s all it takes before I’m coming hard and loud.