The Redemption(83)

I peek over at Dex. His smile is not cocky or showy, but shows how proud he is of me. I step around her and go to him, hugging him tight.

When I look back at Janice, she doesn’t seem upset or even disappointed. A small smile graces her features and with a slight nod, she says, “Okay.”

“Just like that?”

“No. I’ve given it tremendous thought over the last few months. I’ve also Googled Dex a few times.” There’s a sparkle in her eyes when she looks up at him. “Seems maybe he has changed and considering the scum that’s out there, I’m going to trust my gut and say okay.”

As he rubs my back, Dex speaks before I do. “Thank you, Janice. I appreciate that.”

“Just don’t go breaking my trust or Rochelle’s heart. I can be a bitch when I need to be.”

“Janice,” I say on the verge of a gasp. “You never swear.”

“Well, I’m loosening up in my old age.”

“You’re not that old,” I add.

“Well, it’s time I lived a little.”

I go to hug her and I can feel the sincerity of her words in her arms. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you and the boys living a happy life.”

“Thank you.”

She turns and says to Dex, “Take care of my family and yourself.” Walking past him she stops. “I’m gonna go kiss my grandkids. Dex, you might like the lasagna. You should stay. I’ll see myself out.”

He sits down at the table and replies, “I think I will stay if it’s alright with you, Rochelle.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”





We decided our relationship was best kept a secret—our secret for now, an intimacy that bonded us even more. Our bubble felt protected from outside opinions and judgment. But maybe it was the darkness that allowed us to believe in the illusion. The reality is, we knew we couldn’t hide for long, but neither of us wanted to talk about it either.

So we continued over the course of a month, sneaking around in dives to grab a late night drink or sticking to the security of each other’s house.

“How’s your mother doing?” I ask, lying in bed with him. Glancing at the clock it’s 5:30 in the morning.

When he turns to me, his brow is furrowed. “Really? We’re talking about my mother right now? What happened to lying here recovering after sex?”

“Recovering? Do you really want to recover from sex with me?”

Rolling over, he rests on top of me. “You wear me out, woman!”

“With all of my sex demands?” I tease.

“Yes,” he says, a short chuckle following. “You’re a very demanding lover.”

“Lover sounds so naughty and sexual.”

He gets off of me, sits up, and turns on the lamp. “Aren’t all lovers sexual? Like doesn’t the word itself say sexual?”

I blush, my eyelids growing heavy. “I’m tired. I can’t think straight at this hour.”

He starts to stand, but I take his hand and hold him. “Don’t leave.”

Settling back down next to me, he tucks his arm under my neck and holds me to him. “The boys will be up soon.”

Whispering, I say, “I know.”

He reaches for the lamp to turn it off and I smile knowing today is the day, we become real, real to the world, facing the world together. When he stops, I look over at him and see him holding the small framed photo of me and Cory. My heart clenches. I quickly reach for him, not wanting to lose everything we worked so hard for. But he stands suddenly and the frame is abandoned in the spot he found it. The playfulness is gone as he walks to the bench at the end of the bed where he left his clothes. He starts getting dressed, so I ask, “You’re going?”

“I should. I have some stuff to take care of.”

When he sits on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on, I sense the change in his mood. I sit up and rub his arm. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he replies too quick and a little snappy. Lying back, I watch him silently. His gaze is focused down and I watch the man I fell in love with disappear before my eyes. He looks back when the silence reaches him, our gazes connecting. He rubs my leg over the blanket. “I’m sorry.”

Needing him to fill me in on what he’s thinking, I ask, “For what?” My voice is meek and quieter than intended, but I can’t handle my heart being broken again. And by the thickened tension, I’m feeling like that’s close to happening.

His eyes leave mine before his hand does. “There’s so much shit, so much to think about.”

“What about the last month?”

He turns, slow and hesitant, his face one of regret. When he looks at me, I know what’s coming before he even says it. I close my eyes to hide the tears I know will appear. “Rochelle,” he starts, then pauses with a heavy sigh before continuing. “I need to sort through everything. I have legal appointments tomorrow…” He glances at his watch. “…later today technically. I’m seeing my mother for dinner. It’s a miracle she’s still here. And I still have to talk to Gage.” When he stands, he keeps his back to me. He walks to the door and stops with his hand on the knob. Keeping his eyes focused on anything but me, he says, “I’ll call you later.” Then he leaves.