On The Floor (Second Story) (30 page)

I'm watching his erection jutting towards me, waiting for him to slide into me. But it doesn't happen. I look up into Jake's eyes and see him watching me. I smile, and he smiles back.

"I love you," I say to him.

"I love you too," he says back. "I want you looking me in the eye when I'm inside you."

I nod, and bite my lip in anticipation. And then I feel just the tip of him at my entrance before he surges forward and fills me. I inhale and moan. He groans.

And we never break eye contact.

He stays still for a moment too long, so I start to wiggle my hips wanting him to move. He grips my hips, his fingers spreading over my ass as he starts to thrust in and out of me, circling each time he fills me completely. It is slow, but hard at the same time. Jake moving inside me, hitting all the right spots to make my body sing.

And we never break eye contact.

He moves faster as my muscles start to tighten around him. Slamming into me harder as I moan and whimper. I beg him to keep going. Harder. Faster. I never want him to stop. I want this sweet torture to last forever. I want to be on this ledge with him for as long as I can stand it.

And we never break eye contact.

The tension finally releases as I come, moaning his name. His hands move from my hips to my feet and he speeds up, pumping in and out of me, groaning about my pussy. How tight I am. How good I feel wrapped around his cock. How he wants to stay buried inside me forever. How much he loves fucking me. How much he fucking loves me. Then he slams into me and stills, his body trembling as he comes inside of me.

And we never break eye contact.

He runs his hands back down my legs, up over my body, under my back, pulling me with him as he moves up the bed. He kisses me slow and lazy. Sated.

"I could do this with you forever if you let me," he says, kissing my neck.

I smile, holding back the girly squeal. "I think I might let you."

He pulls back and looks into my eyes, smiling softly. "I mean it," he says, his smile growing crooked in an absolutely adorable expression.

"I know."

"I'm serious. You're stuck with me for the long haul. I don't think I could ever get over you if you broke my heart," he says like he's kidding, but I know he's serious. He doesn't put his heart out there like this. But he has with me and I cherish it. I cherish
him
.

"I know. And I don't think I would be the one to break your heart..." I say, trailing off as he kisses me softly. I don't think he realizes how much he owns me. He owns me completely.

He gets this serious look on his face before he says, "I won't break your heart, Rachel. Because if I broke yours, it would mean breaking mine. You are my heart. My soul. You own me."

My eyes tear up and I choke on my words. I want to say so much more to him, but all I can get out is a small smile and, "Ditto."

He chuckles at my response and leans down to kiss me. "I love you, babe."

"I love you, too."

Chapter 22

The next two weeks pass in a blur of class, studying, relaxing, and sex.
Lots
of sex. And with Jake as my boyfriend, you have to know how amazing the sex is.

Like,
really amazing
.

Actually, everything is amazing. So amazing in fact, that the anniversary of my mother's death nearly sneaks up on me. I knew it was coming. It's something I dread reliving every year, even though it gets a little better with each year. I guess I should say that it gets a little more bearable.

And Jake has definitely made an impact on how I feel about everything. He listens to me when I want to talk. He comforts me when I need the silence. He makes me smile at memories that, in the past, have made me cry.

It still feels like it was yesterday. Coming home from school and rushing around before my piano lesson, I didn't even realize the somber mood of the house. When I came into the kitchen to grab a snack before leaving, I noticed my mom and dad sitting at the kitchen table with sad smiles on their faces.

I stopped what I was doing, instinctively knowing that something was wrong. I sat down at the table across from them and took a breath. Honestly, that was the last real breath I took for a long time.

"Mom? Dad? What's wrong?"

That sad smile grows on Mom's face when she looks over at Dad, and I see the arm that he has wrapped around her shoulder tighten. A tear leaks from the corner of her eye, and then she looks back at me before she starts to talk. Her voice is sad, but resolute. "Sweetheart, Dad and I wanted to talk to you.”

“What about my lesson?” I ask.

“We, um, we cancelled your piano lesson today so there's no need to rush the conversation. And we decided to talk to you, your brother, and sister separately." She pauses, taking a big breath.

"Mom?" I say quietly, my voice trembling and tears starting to build in my eyes.

"Rachel, I have a brain tumor. It is inoperable and terminal... I," she says before clearing her throat. Dad squeezes her in reassurance. "We just found out yesterday and I had an appointment with the surgeon this morning. They say..." She stops talking for moment and puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. She looks at Dad, talking in that private way they normally do.

That's when Dad takes over. "They've given Mom only a few months... We wanted to tell you as soon as we knew," he finishes, his voice wavering. Tears start leaking from his eyes and Mom turns her face into his chest. He pulls her closer and into his embrace.

I sit there in stunned silence, watching my parent's grief. My dad's grief at losing his soul mate. My mom's grief at losing herself. Her life.

"I don't understand…" I say softly. Actually, I think I do understand. It just feels like this can’t be real.

Mom pulls her face away from Dad's chest and looks over at me. She gets up and walks over to sit next to me. We turn in the chairs so we were facing each other. She takes both of my hands in hers. "Sweetheart. Sometimes illnesses can't be cured. The location and size of the tumor... it's..."

And that's when I lose it. It all finally sinks in that my mom is dying. The vibrant woman who looks so healthy in front of me right now will be gone in a few months. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. "It’s not fair..." I say through the sobs, as my mom pulls me into her lap and soothes me like she did when I was a child. Dad comes around the table and sits in my abandoned chair, embracing me from behind.

"Shhh... I know, sweetheart. I know..." my mom soothes.

"I just... I can't..." I mumble into her chest.

"I know..."

I don't know how long we sat there for. At some point, my sister came down. They had told her earlier in the day when she got out of school. We all sat together crying. They had yet to tell my brother. He would be home that weekend and they wanted to wait to tell him in person. I took the rest of the week off of school and spent as much time as I could with my family.

The first month after we found out, it was hard to believe that anything was wrong with her. We would stay up late together. Go on walks. Laugh. Live.

After that first month, things started to change. Little things. She was tired a lot. She got a lot of headaches. She was more irritable.

Then her health started to decrease rapidly. She looked sick and she acted sick. Those last few weeks were the hardest because sometimes it didn't even seem like she knew we were there, or what was going on around her.

I saw my dad's heart breaking, his mind shutting down. I saw my sister closing in on herself. And I felt Chad's distance every time Mom would mention if anybody had checked on baby Chad. I'm not sure what she was seeing, but it certainly wasn't the people that were there.

She died on a Tuesday afternoon surrounded by her family, even though she had no idea that we were there.

Things went downhill fast from there. Dad was lost in his grief. Monica was lost in herself. And Chad was in San Diego on base getting ready to deploy, so he wasn't there at all. I felt like I was the only one holding us all together.

I stayed strong. I was the rock. I took care of my family.

And when it was all too much, I’d close my eyes, and by the count of three I’d be at the beach. Then the numbness would set back in and I could be strong again. For my family.

A lot has changed in the past few years, but I still feel as though everything is fragile. Like at any point it could take a turn for the worst. One wrong thing said, and Dad could go back into his depression leaving Monica alone. Even though everything seems fine, I have seen how bad it can be and I don't want our family to go back there.

I try not to rock the boat or cause any issues in my family. If there is ever anything I can do to prevent our family from returning to the way it was, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. It doesn't matter to me if it isn't the best thing for me. I always put my family first and so far, there haven't been any repercussions worth regretting.

So far...

***

The anniversary of Mom's death is on a Friday this year. And today is the Thursday before the Friday. I'm heading home to be with my family. On Friday we will be going to Mom's grave and then to a therapy session. I'm leaving this afternoon so I can be there in time for dinner tonight. Our family will cook Mom's favorite dinner, vegetable lasagna, together and then eat and reminisce.

This is something we used to do on everyone's birthdays when Mom was alive. We would make the "birthday person of honor's" favorite meal, and Mom would tell our birth story. Then while we ate, we would talk about all of our favorite memories of that person. After Mom died, we stopped with the birthday tradition and we only do it for Mom on the anniversary of her death.

I hate that we stopped doing this on our birthdays. I wish we still would. And even more than that, I wish we would keep doing it on
Mom's
birthday. Our birthdays were always her favorite days of the year. She said that every time she celebrated one, she was thankful for the day that we came into her life. Dad’s birthday was always the day he was born as her match. She said they were born to be together. He was born two days after Mom. And they met at that coffee shop two days after Dad's 22nd birthday that year. I have no idea what that means, but it seemed to mean something to Mom. She always said her lucky number was two.

I hate that we do her favorite thing on the day she died. I wish we still did it on her birthday. I've told the therapist about it privately. She encouraged me to talk to my family about it, but I didn't want to rock the boat. I don't want to disrupt one of the things that seems to bring our family together, since after Mom died everything feels so broken. Even if this isn't exactly right, at least it is
something
.

Jake and I are supposed to go to a late lunch this afternoon before I leave, but he is running twenty minutes late. Thinking that maybe I was supposed to meet him in his room, I leave to go find him, locking my door behind me. I walk across the hall to his room and knock on his door before testing to see if it is locked.

It's not, so I turn the knob and call out. "Jake? I'm coming in!"

I get no response, so I open the door all the way. Jake is sitting on his bed hunched over and supporting the weight of his upper body with one elbow on his knee. One hand is holding his phone to his ear, while the other in his hair, gripping at the roots.

He's nodding his head like whoever is on the other end can see him. I hear him sniff and say, "I know... I'll be there soon. She just walked in... Yeah. Love you too, Gramps." Jake hangs up the phone and stays where he is. Frozen in the same position.

"Jake? Is everything ok?" I say, moving to stand in front of him.

He slowly lifts his head looking up at me. His eyes are red and his face is covered in tears. He wipes his face, clearing the tears from his cheeks and slowly shakes his head back and forth. "It's Grams. She..." he says taking a shaky breath and covering his face with his hands. "She had a stroke."

I inhale sharply. "Jake. I'm so sorry. Is she okay?" Grams is like his mother. And I don't even need to ask how he is, because I can clearly see that he is a wreck.

He takes a deep, steadying breath before he continues. "She’s, uh, they're not sure yet. She was talking to Gramps, but it was all nonsense. They're in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. She's conscious, but..." he says, as the tears start to fall again.

"I know Jake," I say, sitting next to him and pulling his head to rest on my shoulder. I kiss his hair and rub his back, soothing him through his sobs. I know what it is like to lose my mom and I don't want him to have to go through this today, especially since I have to go home.

"They are headed to County General and I want to meet them there. Can you leave with me now?" he says lifting his head to look at me.

"Sure," I say. "We'll just take separate cars so I can leave for my dad's from the hospital."

"What? What do you mean leave?" he asks looking sad and confused. "You can't go to your dad's Rachel. My grams is on her way to the hospital."

"Jake… I've been talking about this for weeks. You knew I was leaving today. This is really important to my family. I need to be there for them. We have the dinner and then…"

"
I
need you!" he yells out of nowhere, startling me as he abruptly stands up. "You've been telling me how you don't even like doing the dinner around the anniversary of her death. You'd rather do it on her birthday! Just do it then! I
need
you right now..." he says, tears leaking from his eyes.

I did tell him about the tradition and how I wish we could change it, but today is not the day to change it. I am hours away from leaving to be with my family on the anniversary of my mother's death. "I can't change plans on my family right now, Jake. They would need more notice. This is a very sensitive thing with my family. I don't want my dad to backslide. I need to be there for them," I say, my eyes starting to water. I hate that he is making me feel bad for wanting to be there for my family. I want to be there for him, but I can't be in two places at once.