In turn binding us for life.
Maybe he’s thinking the same thing, that love or not we’re bound for life, when his eyes snap shut and he comes too. His back arches and the beautiful lines of his face drip agony as his dick lurches inside of me and spews cum.
It lashes it as I’m still coming.
As my pussy is still fluttering around his rod and I put my hand over his on my belly.
As he grabs my hand and joins our fingers, squeezing, and when he’s done, he opens his shining wolf eyes. He opens them to show me his stark possessiveness, his stark satisfaction that he’s got me now.
That I’m his.
Not forever, no. But for as long as he wants me.
And then he comes back down and kisses me softly on the forehead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Some girls in love don’t get their happy ending.
The men they love don’t love them back. The men they lovecan’tlove them back. And so they are forever blue.
They’re forever sad and aching.
They’re forever longing.
But my Halo won’t be one of them. My Halo will be loved.
By the first man she’ll ever love.
The man with sparkling vampire skin and glinting wolf eyes. Her daddy.
He will carry her in his muscular arms, play with her with those fascinating hands. He’ll even put her on his shoulders so she feels like she’s at the top of the world. He’ll make her smile and laugh. He’ll wipe her tears off, bandage her scrapes. Maybe teach her to ride a bicycle.
He’ll protect her from everything bad. Or at least he’ll try to.
I know that.
I know that he’ll lose sleep over how to protect her, how to make her life easier, how to give her everything. How to make all her dreams come true.
I’ll take my happiness in that.
I’ll watch them together, our baby and him, and all the blue inside of me will fade for a while.
For now though, I’ll let myself cry.
In the shower, at school during lunch, when I’m shut up in the restroom. Even in class, sitting in the last row while teachers are explaining to a bunch of uninterested, delinquent girls how a heart functions or whyRomeo and Julietis the greatest Shakespeare play ever written.
It’s not.
It’s tragic and painful. There is nothing great about tragedy.
There is nothingepicin keeping two people who love each other apart.
Heartbreak is not glorious. It’s not poetic or an inspiration for generations to come.
Stupid, sadistic,sickShakespeare.
Although crying in class is much harder, not because my teacher cares that a pregnant girl is sitting with her head down all the way in the back, possibly not paying attention. But because my girls are there and they worry over me. Especially Salem, who always sits right adjacent to me. Something that accidentally happened in the beginning of the year and that’s how our friendship started.
