Текст книги "Falling to Pieces"

Автор книги: Leddy Harper

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Aubrey had to go into the bathroom and shut the water off. Apparently, Ayla liked to take long showers, which I could only assume she spent most of the time playing and not washing. My niece always did the same in her baths. But Ayla finally got out and dressed for bed, coming into the living room to join us.

My heart pounded in my chest and my palms grew clammy, knowing that at any minute, Ayla would stop looking at me as her teacher and start seeing me as her father. I had no idea what her reaction would be, and the anticipation nearly crippled me. Excitement fluttered inside, while at the same time, fear gripped my throat, causing my breathing to turn shallow and ragged.

“Ayla, sweetheart, did you have fun tonight at the dance?” Bree asked while Ayla nodded with excitement. “Did you like having Mr. Taylor there as your daddy?” Once again, she nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face, eyeing me as she regarded her mother. “Do you remember everything I’ve told you about your daddy?”

“Yeah. You said that even though he doesn’t know me, he still loves me like I love him. You said if he knew me, he would want me in hims life.”

“His life, Ayla. His,” Bree corrected with a straight face, even though I couldn’t quiet my chuckle. “Don’t encourage her. Otherwise, she’ll grow up speaking like you.”

I turned to my daughter and nodded, leaning forward on the couch cushion to get closer to where she sat on the coffee table. “Yes, Ayla. He wants you in hims life. Very much so.”

Bree slapped my bicep with the back of her hand and rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway…how would you feel if your daddy was here? Would you want to meet him? Do you want to know who he is?”

“Will he sing me his songs?” Ayla asked with wide eyes and a giant grin.

I turned to Bree, questioning her with a stare and a raised brow. But she didn’t look my way, only kept her eyes on the little girl in front of her while failing at hiding her own grin.

“Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. Your daddy was only named after that man on the CD. Those aren’t his songs. He can’t sing to save his life. Completely tone deaf.” Humor filled her words as her lips curled up.

I felt bad for Ayla. She probably had no idea what we were talking about, the joke going right over her head. But the corners of her mouth lifted and she nodded as if everything made perfect sense to her.

“Is he here? Can I meet him? Can I hug him?”

Bree glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. I could tell she needed help, but I had no idea what to do. This news couldn’t come from me. It had to come from her mother. Bree was the only one that could do this.

“Mommy! Where is he?” Ayla bounced on the table, her excitement escalating. “I want to see him! Does he know about me?”

“Yes, sweetheart, he knows about you. And he’s just as excited about you as you are about him. I just want to make sure you’re ready. Because if you’re scared, or you need time, now is when you should tell me. Okay?”

Ayla nodded, clapping her hands in front of her.

I swallowed, locking eyes with Aubrey—hers were wide with fear. Nerves attacked my stomach, causing me to become nauseated. I’d never felt such anxiety in my life. But it was what I wanted. I just needed to get through it.

“I can’t do it,” Bree whispered to me, her inhalations short and panicked.

I moved to sit next to her on the couch, directly in front of Ayla. I placed my hand over Bree’s and smiled through my own fear, hoping to offer some support and courage. “I love you,” I whispered back, barely heard at all. It came out as more of a breath across her face than actual words. But I knew she heard me. She felt me.

She turned back to Ayla, who sat patiently waiting with eager eyes. “How would you feel if Mr. Taylor was your daddy?” The apprehension was evident in her tone.

Ayla’s gaze moved to mine as she tilted her head to the side in thought. “I like him. He’s nice to me. And he’s handsome like my daddy. But he’s my teacher, silly. He can’t be my daddy.”

“But he is, sweetheart. Mr. Taylor is your father. Mommy knew him a long time ago, and fell in love with him. Like the way the princess falls in love with the prince.”

Her eyes grew even larger in awe and excitement. “You kissed my mommy and woke her up?”

“I did,” I said with a confidence I didn’t even know I had. “She was sleeping. The evil queen had her under a spell. And then I came in”—I glanced over at Bree—“on my white horse all decked out in shiny armor”—I winked and turned my attention back to Ayla—“and I kissed her, waking her up. But what the fairy tales don’t tell you is, the princess also wakes up the prince. Because before your mommy came around, before I ever met her, I was sleepwalking. And then she came and saved me. And we made you. And you’ve saved us both. So you’re a superhero princess, too.”

“How did you make me?” she asked with an inquisitive and curious tone.

My mind went blank, and all I could do was stare at her while sucking on my teeth and blinking. No words came to mind, no thoughts or creative explanations unfolded. Nothing.

Luckily, Bree saved me as she humorously answered, “When he woke me up, the fairy godmother waved her magic wand and gave you to me. And I’ve been waiting all this time for your daddy to ride back in on his horse”—she cut her eyes to me—“and all of his shiny armor”—with a grin, she turned back to Ayla—“and sweep us off our feet.”

“I like that story, Mommy,” she said with a giggle. “So what do I call you now? All of my friends call their daddies ‘Daddy,’ but I can’t call my teacher that.” Her hands began to fidget in her lap. She glanced down and studied them with a wrinkled forehead, deep in thought.

“You can call me whatever you want. But in school, you can keep calling me Mr. Taylor like the other kids.”

She perked up and her pretty little face relaxed. “So I can call you Daddy and Mr. Taylor? You have two names?”

“Yes, Ayla. If that’s what you want to call me. But since we’re talking about names…right now your last name is Bailey. Mine is Taylor. It’s up to you which name you want.”

Bree nudged my shoulder. “What he’s trying to say, sweetheart, is you get to choose your last name. How cool is that? You don’t have to change it if you don’t want to. Mommy picked your last name especially for you.”

“I can be McKayla Taylor?” she asked, and we both nodded. “So if I get in trouble…and you use my whole name…”

“I will say whatever name you choose, Ayla,” Bree answered with a laugh.

“Can I think about it?”

“Take all the time you need,” we both said in unison.

Ayla smiled but grew quiet.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Bree asked, worry setting in her tone.

Ayla stood and whispered in Bree’s ear, though it was something I couldn’t hear. But then Bree smirked and nodded, flicking her head in my direction. With bright eyes, the color directly between mine and Bree’s, Ayla moved to me and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck.

“I knew you’d find me,” she said softly in my ear.

And for the second time in my adult life, tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision. But I didn’t stop them. I let them flow, feeling everything in that moment. The love, the loss, the missed time, but more importantly, the bright future that lay ahead for all of us.

Right up until bedtime, Ayla asked more questions about me, which we answered as best as we could, considering her age. Bree tucked her in while I waited on the couch. I wanted to go back there with her, kiss her forehead, and tell her goodnight, but I knew she was probably overwhelmed as it was. There was time to work that in later. I had all the time in the world.

When Bree came back, her shoulders fell as she made her way to the couch next to me. Her body slumped into the cushion and her head fell to my shoulder. My hand immediately reached for hers.

“I want to know everything. Start with the first time you heard her heartbeat, and end with this morning,” I said into her hair as I pressed my lips to her head.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around my torso and settling into me deeper as she told me everything I’d missed. Aside from horrible morning sickness, she had an easy pregnancy. After moving in with her dad, she attended a school for teen mothers, which allowed her to take Ayla with her once she was born. She went into labor two weeks early, and it scared her that something was wrong, but Ayla came out perfect, and was the happiest, easiest baby. Apparently, everyone thought so. She became the light in everyone’s eyes—that didn’t come as a surprise to me at all. Bree ended up graduating on time, despite taking time off after the delivery. She only missed six days of school. Her dad and stepmom—which Bree called “Mom” most of the time—didn’t want her to move out, but she was determined to do it on her own. Once she graduated high school, Bree and Sarah found an apartment close to their parents and moved out together. Bree admitted that it was hard, but the struggles were worth it in the end.

“How did you come up with her name?” I asked, interrupting her story for a minute with my own questions.

“I loved the name Ayla…kind of reminded me of Taylor. And I had a friend in school named Kayla. So I added mick to the beginning of it.”

“What’s her middle name?”

Bree stilled for a moment, taking in a deep breath before answering. “Rose.”

“No you didn’t. Really? What…is she eighty?”

We both laughed, but once we settled, she said, “I couldn’t give her your last name, or list you as the father, so that was my way of tying her to you. And I did some research about Guns N’ Roses, wanting her to have that connection, as well. Axl Rose was raised my his stepdad, William Bruce Bailey. But I didn’t want to be too brazen about it…otherwise, I would’ve named her Alexis, or Lexa. Believe me, those names came to mind. But I figured since my dad already knew your name, that wouldn’t be the best idea.”

“Yeah…I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken me that long to figure it out, either, had you done that.” I shifted my position, making her look at me. “Have you told your dad yet?”

“No. I’m too scared. He’s getting better, stronger, but I’m worried it’ll give him a heart attack or something. He’s never liked you much. I’ve told him pretty much everything about you. I mean, he said he appreciated all that you did for me, but believes you crossed a line you shouldn’t have. But honestly, I think a lot of that came from his own guilt over leaving me behind. Especially after he found out what my mom had done to me—my back and whatnot—he hated himself. He said he hadn’t protected me enough like he should’ve, and I think he thought I needed protection from you, as well. I don’t really know what his true feelings about you were, since it all seemed to be so muddled with his own. But I do know that he absolutely hates the boy that took my virginity, knocked me up, and then vanished, leaving me with a kid to raise all on my own. So…I guess he’s really gonna hate you now.”

“Are you having any regrets about this? Are you doubting us?”

Her actions said no, but her eyes said something else. “I’m scared. I don’t want you to get in trouble with the school or lose your job. I don’t want my dad to disown me. I worry about how all of this will get sorted out. But if I’m being honest, being with you doesn’t scare me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this. The only one I ever wanted to be with. And without you, I was merely content with being alone. I guess it’s just an adjustment. I have to stop thinking it’s me against the world now.”

I held her face between my hands and pulled her lips to mine, pressing the most tender kiss against them. “Fuck the world. We have the universe on our side. And I’ve got to say, that’s far greater than anything that could possible be against us. We have fate. We have destiny. We have each other.”

Bree climbed into my lap, straddling my legs and wrapping her arms around my neck. Her soft kisses grew harsher, hotter, and more impatient. Her breaths grew shallower, uneven, and frenzied. Her hips began to grind into mine, rubbing her core against my erection as I held on to her waist.

“This seems oddly familiar,” I groaned, panting between kisses.

She pulled her face back and slowed her hips to an erotic roll. “Except last time, you had hair for me to pull on. And I was in a lot of pain.”

“Do you think maybe we should slow it down?”

“Why are you always trying to stop this?”

With my hands on her hips, I pulled her pelvic bone flush against my body. “I’ll always try to do right by you, Bree. Always. And tonight has been really intense. A lot has happened, and I don’t want to rush things. You’re the one that said we needed to take our time and figure this all out.”

“Well, the last time we were in this position, the consequences saved my life. So you won’t get any objections from me.”

“The last time we were in this position, Bree, you got pregnant. And that’s not going to happen again until you’re wearing my ring and signing my last name.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“And I wore a condom,” I argued, raising my eyebrow at her in a dare to contend with me.

“I’m horny, and I can tell you are, too.”

She wrapped her legs around my waist as I stood up and carried her to her room, tossing her on the bed. A squeal left her lips as she bounced on the mattress before I closed the door and locked it.

“Then by all means, Aubrey, let me take care of you.”

Her cheeks flamed red as I crawled between her legs, prepared to make her ache burn hotter before letting her fall to pieces on my tongue.

We both agreed that it wouldn’t be a smart idea if I stayed the night. We didn’t want to push things too hard, nor did we want to make Ayla feel uncomfortable. Regardless of how we felt about things, how much we needed to work through everything, we needed to put Ayla and her feelings first. We had to consider her with every decision we made.

Even though I didn’t spend the night, I made sure to be there for them the following day. I headed over to Bree’s house as soon as I woke up, and spent the entire day with them. Ayla acted shy around me for some reason, yet she didn’t want me to leave after dinner. I knew it was a school night and she needed to get ready for bed, so I had to leave. But I promised her that we’d spend a lot more time together.

The following morning rolled around and I went to school fully prepared to discuss my situation with the administrators. They asked me to meet them after school, sounding very nonchalant about the whole thing. But I’d been burned once before in that situation, so I didn’t let my guard down at all.

I told them how I had no knowledge of Ayla or my relation to her. And then I summarized the events from Saturday night, telling them of how Ayla knew who I was and how Bree and I had decided to be together. To my surprise, they were very sympathetic toward me. They understood that I hadn’t deceived them, and had come forward the moment things were out in the open. Then they surprised me even more by explaining that I was still only a substitute teacher, and there was nothing in the rulebooks against a parent subbing for their child’s class. They did see the potential for a problem, but said they would assess it, talk to the board about it, and make a decision about moving forward. However, if it were up to them, they said they wouldn’t step in as long as I kept things professional in my class.

I could finally breathe easier, finally feel the weight lifting off my chest.

Later that day, Bree informed me that Ayla had decided she wanted my last name. Nothing could’ve made me happier than that news. After it had taken her a while, without a single word from her about it, I began to worry she’d decided to keep her last name as Bailey. But apparently, Ayla was too shy to say it in front of me, and wanted to talk to her mom about it first. I’d been with them all day on Sunday, which prevented her from talking about it. Whatever her reason for waiting, it didn’t matter anymore, because my daughter would be a Taylor.

I had a daughter.

Bree tried to find a job, but I secretly hoped she wouldn’t be able to, hoping she’d give in and let me help. I had always been good about saving money, starting at my very first job. I’d also always lived below my means, which helped me financially when I’d found myself between jobs. I had a nice savings account, but Bree refused to let me use any of it to help her. So I’d called my dad and asked if he knew anyone in the area in lawn care who wouldn’t mind some extra hands, and he connected me with a landscape architect. I would work for him part time until the school made a decision about the permanent position. Either way, I’d be able to have extra money for Ayla and Bree. And hopefully, it would allow Bree to start her furniture stall at the flea market. She managed to turn the table I’d broken in her front lawn in to an amazing piece. She ripped off the legs, attached it to an old birdbath, and painted the entire thing like a mosaic piece of art. Once she finished with the glaze, I knew she would be able to sell it quickly. I had so much faith in her, and the extra hours of work would pay off in the end.

By the end of the week, we’d made an appointment with a lawyer to set paternity rights. He said it wouldn’t be difficult since we both wanted it. We wouldn’t need a court order, only a DNA test. Once the results came back, he’d file it with the office of vital statistics and we could change her name. We were given an estimate of one to two months before that would be done. I didn’t want to wait that long, but I understood there were steps to take.

Ayla already called herself McKayla Taylor.

I loved it.

But she yelled at me every time I’d say it, telling me she wasn’t in trouble so I couldn’t use her full name. I tried telling her that it was a beautiful name and she should use it all the time, only calling her McKayla when she’s in trouble. She didn’t agree with me. I didn’t care.

Bree finally told her parents about me. She was in tears by the time she left their house, calling me as soon as she got in the car. I wanted to drive over there and give her father a piece of my mind, but she told me not to. She said he needed time to calm down and wrap his mind around it. But from what I gathered, he was more upset with Bree for lying about the extent of her relationship with me. I had to trust that she knew him better and he’d eventually calm down.

The following week, Bree had invited me over to her house, and I got to meet her other sister, Clarissa, and her husband. Both sisters were really nice, and invited me in with open arms. Bree probably had to threaten them beforehand, but whatever the reason for their kindness, I believed it to be genuine.

Our whole relationship before had been spent in hiding. There were no “meet the family” moments, or sharing the holidays with our loved ones. It was full of sneaking around, hidden meetings in the trees, stolen glances in class, and little love notes hidden beneath papers on my desk. Our words had to be carefully plotted when texting, and our phone calls had to wait until the sun went down. So to have these moments where we were all together, out in the open, was amazing and scary all at the same time. And I knew that if it scared me even the slightest bit, Bree must’ve felt it worse. I promised to take my time with her, letting us ease into the comfort of being together, but I made it known that I would never again hide our love from the world.

Things became easier with each passing day, but Aubrey still seemed to harbor some apprehension about us. She’d made several comments about how she worried we were rushing into things, or that we were together for the wrong reasons. She told me she loved me every day, and we spent a lot of time together, occupying most nights in the same bed, so I wasn’t too worried about her hesitation. I knew she loved me and that her uneasiness about us would alleviate with time.

Bree still hadn’t found a job, and I could tell it only added to her anxiety. She refused to let me help out financially, but there were other things I helped her with on the sly. One of those things was her furniture business that she longed to start. I’d picked up so many odd pieces for her over the last few weeks that it kept her busy and, hopefully, kept her mind off the hard times. It didn’t take me long to realize that Bree was happiest when she was doing what she loved. She worked tirelessly to transform her newest acquisitions and already had four pieces of furniture built and ready for painting.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, finding her in the back of the thrift shop.

She quickly backed away from the old dollhouse and shook her head.

“You want this?” I asked, looking at it, wondering what she saw. It was made of wood, yet it seemed as though it hadn’t been taken care of in quite some time. The front was open and missing a door, the paint was peeling, and I couldn’t help but wonder why someone thought they’d even be able to sell it. It looked like it should’ve been thrown straight into the dumpster.

“I was only looking at it. Come on, let’s go.”

“No. Wait a minute, Bree. You were looking at this, studying it the way you do when you get a creative idea. Talk to me. I want to know what you see when you look at this thing.” I didn’t move from my spot in front of the worn-down house, refusing to let her walk away.

She spun around, appearing tired. Her shoulders lifted to her chin as she said, “It’s nothing, Axel. Forget it.”

“No,” I said, holding onto her arms and forcing her to look at me. “I’m not going to forget it. I want to know what you were thinking.”

“It’s pointless what I thought or what I want to do with it. I can’t get it right now, and by the time I can, it won’t be here. So there’s no use wasting the time telling you what I think of it.”

“Why can’t you get it? It’s only fifteen dollars.”

She released a long sigh and dropped her head between us. “I still have projects at home to finish, and I still need to buy paint in order to finish what I have. I can’t afford to start more projects. I have to finish what I can, sell them to buy more paint, and then finish the rest. I can’t afford to pull any money out of my savings, because I have bills to pay. I can’t just go out and buy everything at once, the furniture I have has to pay for the other projects. It’s a process and kind of pointless to keep adding more when I can’t even finish what I have.”

I’d learned that Bree was a lot of things, a prideful person being near the top of that list. Arguing with her over money and what she could or couldn’t afford was useless. I would never win that argument. So, I relented and we left the store.

Later that afternoon, I gave Bree the excuse that I had to go home. What I didn’t tell her was that I also had to make a few stops along the way. One thing I couldn’t stand was for Bree to have to deal with disappointment. She’d dealt with that enough in her life, and I knew she’d face more along the way. But I could fix what was fixable. Bearing witness to her not spending fifteen dollars because she needed paint nearly broke my heart.

I went back to the thrift store and purchased the rickety old dollhouse, not having a clue as to what she’d turn it into—but that was part of the excitement. She had so much talent it amazed me. I’d look at a ladder and see exactly what it was, something to use to reach high places. But Bree could look at it and see something to display knickknacks. The simple wonder of what she’d do to this broken house was enough to make me go back for it. The other stop I had to make was to pick up paint. I’d gone to the enclosed backroom of her house where she worked on her projects, and taken pictures of the supplies she had left, and then used that to fill my cart full of all the same brands of paints and brushes she’d need. It was apparent that one brush was her favorite, due to the dozen paint colors that riddled the handle. I showed the picture to the store clerk and he showed me what type of brush it was. She wasn’t kidding, paint wasn’t cheap and the brush that was her favorite was ridiculously expensive. But that didn’t stop me. It didn’t make me cringe when I slid my credit card across the counter or looked at the receipt. Instead, it filled me with excitement, eager to give it to her. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

The tricky part was giving it to her. I knew it would cause a fight, I knew she’d be pissed that I’d spent my money on her. But I didn’t care. She needed me just as much as I needed her, and I’d do anything to help her. It was just something she’d have to get over.

What I hadn’t expected, though, were her tears. When I pulled back into her driveway later that evening, my truck full of supplies, she broke down and cried—full-on sobbed.

“What’s wrong, Bree? Why are you upset?” I had expected her to be angry, not shed so many tears. I couldn’t stand it when she cried.

“You don’t get it, Axel.” She sniffled, pushing me away. “How does this look when you’re spending all your money on me? When you’re doing nothing but trying to dig me out of the hole I’ve created.”

“I’ll tell you what it looks like… It looks like I love you unconditionally. It looks like I want to take care of you forever and always. I don’t understand why you’re fighting what’s between us so much. One day, Bree, you’re going to marry me. And when that day comes, we won’t have separate bank accounts or bills. You want to earn money and pay for things on your own? Fine. I get that. I support it. However, you need paints and supplies to make things before you can sell them. You can’t make money without having a product, and you can’t have a product without supplies. That’s all I’m doing. I’m just giving you the supplies to get you on your feet. To give this business you so desperately want, a fighting chance.” I held her wet face in my hands and stared into her bright eyes. “Just think of me as your investor. I’m investing in you, in us, in our future and your happiness. Have you seen the way your eyes light up when you’re working on a project? I want them to light up like that all the time.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

“I will pay you back every penny for this,” she promised, wiping her tears from her face.

“You know I won’t let that happen. You can pay me back in other ways.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m rather certain that’s considered prostitution,” she said on a laugh, our easiness coming back like it always did.

“I wasn’t talking about that, but if you’re offering…” I kissed her forehead. “I’d actually meant something more.”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Sounds scary.”

“Not at all. I want everything with you, Bree. Everything. I want more kids with you. I’ve missed out on so much with Ayla, and I don’t want to miss out on anything ever again. But we have plenty of time for that. Right now, all you need to focus on is getting this furniture thing going. Because I know you won’t give in to marrying me until you’re firmly on your feet. So if I have to help get you there, then so be it. My reason behind buying you all of this stuff is purely selfish. So don’t worry about it.”

Bree took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay. Fine.”

My one stipulation to her was that before she started painting her other projects, she had to fix the dollhouse. I was eager to see what she’d turn it into. To my surprise, after a week of hard work, she finally revealed the most amazing child’s bookcase I’d ever seen. Even without paint, I knew it would be a must-have for any little girl. It solidified my belief that Bree would go far, if only she’d ignore the voices of self-doubt in her head.

After spending a month together, we were closer than ever, but I knew I needed to do something to prove to Bree that what we had was real. Words didn’t seem to be enough, so I knew I had to do something to show her. I ran to the store and picked out everything I’d need, and then some. An idea had come to me the night before as I held a sleepy Bree in my arms. I knew what her concerns were, and I needed her to see that she didn’t have anything to worry about. I needed to prove to her where we had come from, and that I wasn’t there with her—I hadn’t chosen to fight for her—because we had Ayla. I needed her to know that my love for her was genuine. She’d once accused me of loving her because I wanted to save her from her mother. Now, she seemed to believe that it had to do with Ayla, or just saving her in general. So I had to pull out all the stops to let her know, to make her certain of the fact that I loved her for her…and no other reason.

After my trip to the store, I called her to tell her I’d pick her and Ayla up at eleven, and for them to be ready. She asked so many questions, trying to figure out what I had up my sleeve, but I wouldn’t give her anything. I wanted it to be a surprise.

At eleven o’clock on the dot, I pulled into her driveway, not needing to go to the door because they both walked out and met me at the truck. Ayla climbed in the back, excited because she loved how high my truck sat, and Bree rode up front next to me. She fidgeted in her seat, twisting her hands in her lap, but kept up a normal conversation with me. That was, until we pulled up to the field by the lake.

I watched as her eyes darted around, nervous and frantic over our location. I placed my hand over hers and smiled at her once she gave me her attention. “What are you so nervous about?”

“I don’t know. Why did you bring us here?”

My eyes narrowed at her, not understanding her apprehension. But I turned off the truck and got out, grabbing the bags from the back while Bree helped Ayla out of her seat. Grabbing her hand, I led her into the field while Ayla skipped ahead of us.

“Really, Axel, why did you bring us here?”

“I don’t get it. I thought you said you came here to clear your head. Why are you so upset about being here?” I asked once we reached the spot by the trees where the grass wasn’t as tall. I laid out the blanket, waiting for her response.