Everything I've Never Had (48 page)

“More than a week, less than a week ago?”

“More than a week,” Adrian says, “Less than two.” Geez, I know what it feels like as a new mother to go without sleep for a day or two. At one point, I’d actually wished I’d never had children. That’s how crazy just a little sleep deprivation had made me. I run my hand over Adrian’s back in silent support.

We’d been talking to the doctor for over an hour. It hadn’t been easy, but Adrian told him how he’d been feeling and a few details of what he’d seen like what he’d screamed at me yesterday. He won’t let me leave his side, so I’m praying this is a sign that he’s done pushing me away. Dr. Patel had come up with a plan for getting him help, and privately. I want to weep with relief.

“Sleep is imperative in this situation. We can’t move forward with anything until you’ve had it. The shot I’m going to give you will sedate you for quite some time, so I’ll wait a few minutes and let you have a bite to eat before I administer it. Once I give it to you, you will want to be in a location prepared to sleep for a while, Mr. Hebert. Of course, you’ll need to be monitored.” I glance over at Louis.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Louis says. I smile at him.

Once we’ve gotten Adrian fed and in bed, Dr. Patel gives him some oral medicine to take. “This is a mild anti-psychotic. We’ll start with that. I know you’re not happy about the medication, but remember this is temporary but necessary for your speedy recovery.”

“Yes, sir,” Adrian mumbles. Dr. Patel gives him his shot and Louis sees him out with a promise that he’ll be seeing us soon.

“Do you want me to stay in here with you?” I ask Adrian.

“Yes, please, baby. Don’t leave me.” His voice is dragging already.

I settle in with him, pulling the covers around us and placing little kisses on his head. He wraps me up so tight in his arms that I have a hard time breathing for a minute, but I don’t care. I hear his breath begin to even out and his arms relax their hold.

When he speaks, it startles me. “Celeste, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be deserving of your love. I can’t even imagine the hell I’ve put you through these last few days, and the fact that you’re willing to forgive me all that and stand by me…I’m blown away and humbled and in awe of you.” He tilts his head back and captures me with my blues. “I’m ashamed that I doubted all of that. I’m sorry that my instincts weren’t to trust in us but to push you away instead. God, how many times do I need to push you away before you’ll finally go running? I swear that I’ll never do that again. I’m glad you’re strong enough for both us. Strong enough to see through my bullshit.”

I kiss him lightly. “I believe in us, Adrian, and I knew that you’d do anything to protect me, even from yourself. It was hard to remind myself of that in the moment, but I knew if I could get through to you for a second and find a tiny crevice to force myself into that you’d let me in all the way.”

He gives me a little kiss, but it is a weak one. He’s starting to doze off.

Clutching his face in my hands, I tell him, “I love you, Adrian. Always. I’ll never let you go. I’ll never stop. You’re mine.” I kiss him hard even though he’s barely with me. “And I protect what’s mine.”

“MORNIN’,” I HEAR him murmur against my breast. Instinctively, I arch into him.

I open one eye and look toward the window. “Adrian, it’s barely light out. Why am I awake?”

“I want to make love to my sexy wife before our children are up and our crazy day begins,” he says as he presses a little piece of plastic into my hand.

As his tongue tickles me, I laugh and angle the plastic so that I can read it. I grin.
Happy anniversary, wife.
“Happy anniversary, husband,” I say.

“Today’s going to be busy. I’ve got classes this morning and the kids to run around this afternoon and you’ve got your shoot, but this morning,” he says with a nip that makes me moan, “you’re all mine and tonight,” he says with another nip that makes me groan, “you’re all mine. Rock ‘n’ Roll, dancing, champagne, and hot sex on a school night. What do you say,
mimi
?” he asks as he devours my breast.

I grin big, knowing I’m about to rock his world myself. I grab his face and watch those blues focus on me. “I think that all sounds wonderful. I can’t wait, but no champagne tonight.”

“You love champagne.”

“That’s true,” I hesitate for a moment before saying around my smile, “but it’s not good for the baby.”

He stills and I watch in utter fascination as hazy blues become alert blues. He sits up abruptly. “You’re pregnant?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m only a few weeks.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yes,” I say with a laugh. “I’m pregnant,” I repeat, hoping it will sink in this time.

“I thought you said it was a long shot.”

I laugh again. Awestruck, he looks like a little boy on Christmas morning as he runs his hands over my belly. These little moments were happening with more and more frequency since our bad patch. Those first couple of months were by far the rockiest, but he’d worked so hard. The therapy sessions he’d had and that we’d had together were numberless, but one thing remained true—Adrian was committed to overcoming his demons. It wounded me that this beautiful, passionate man had been broken, but I was determined to help him put himself back together. I reach up and rub my hand over his scruff. This is the most excited and most animated I’ve seen in a long time. It helps my heart heal too.

We’d starting talking seriously about trying to have a baby a few months back. I’d been on birth control for so long that I determined that if we wanted to have a baby before I turned forty I should stop taking them immediately. I never dreamed I would get pregnant so quickly. Snapping out my trance, I say, “Well, apparently, our odds were better than I thought, or more likely you have very agile and determined swimmers.”

He sits up further and howls with laughter before leaning back down and kissing me so gently that I fear I might break from the love that radiates from his lips to mine. “Celeste, I love you so much. You’ve made me a happy man.”

He looks down my body and moves down to rest his head on my stomach. I run my hands through his wild hair and smile at him. “Hi there,” he says. “Mommy and I can’t wait to meet you, sweet pea.” He glances up at me. “It’s a girl. Her nickname’s sweet pea. Got it?”

“I got it,” I say with a smile.

He plants small kisses on my belly. “I love you, sweet pea.” My heart melts. This man really knows how to bring me to my knees. “I can’t believe it.” He shakes his head in awe. “When do you want to tell the boys?”

“I’m thinking we might wait till I’m a little further along. I’m so old. I’m nervous that something could go wrong.”

“Babe, you’re thirty-eight. That’s not old.”

“In baby making years it is.”

He smiles at me. “Our baby is going to be perfectly healthy. Right, sweet pea?” he asks my stomach before placing another kiss there. “You want to know how I know it’s going to be a girl?”

“Yeah, how?”

He grabs both of my hands, kisses them, and puts them over his heart. “There has to be another woman like you in this world.” I tear up immediately. “Kind, compassionate, generous, gracious, strong—”

“Stop,” I whisper before I’m full on weeping.

“Brilliant, beautiful, sexy…wait, I don’t know that I want our daughter to be sexy.”

I giggle. “Don’t forget she’ll have some of your traits too—loyal, supportive, honorable, talented, determined, stubborn, bossy…”

“Hey,” he says with a laugh.

“I hope she has these blues,” I whisper as I rub his jaw.

“I hope she’s the spitting image of you,” he says kissing my palm. “I got you a little something, but it’s not near as cool as what you just gave me.”

“What’s that?”

He doesn’t answer me, he just pulls his shirt off and grins. My mouth drops.

I sit up and stare at the viney heart that covers his. It’s beautiful—it starts at the bottom with my name in cursive and flows into a heart that ends with an infinity symbol resting next to my name. I reach out and trace it. It’s almost completely healed.

“When did you get this?”

“Last week. You’ve been so pre-occupied. I can’t believe you only asked me once why I was wearing a shirt to bed.”

I laugh again. “That’s because I’d suspected all week that I was pregnant, but I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure. It was killing me.” I trace the heart again. “Adrian, it’s beautiful. I love it. Is that my handwriting?” I ask with a squeak.

“Yes, from one of your letters.”

I laugh. “Oh, I guess it’s a good thing I signed them more than ‘wife’ occasionally.” I lean and place a little kiss in the center of the heart. His hand fits to the back of my head, holding me there for a moment. “I mean that much that you got me permanently etched on your body, huh?”

“Dumb question,” he says with a kiss to my forehead. “You,” he puts his hand on my belly, “and this family are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Every day when I wake up and when I lie down to go to sleep at night and about a billion times in between, I thank God for giving me y’all.” He holds my face in his hands. “Mostly, I thank God for your stubborn nature and for the fact that you didn’t give up on me.”

I smile up at him, taking in those beautiful blues that give me my world. “You’ll never be rid of me. You give me everything, Adrian, everything I’ve never had.”