Authors: Jasmine Carolina
He releases a ragged breath and shakes his head. He reaches his hands behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head. I stare at him in awe, wondering what the Hell he’s doing. He pulls his wifebeater over his head in the same manner he did with his shirt, and I gawk at the gauze covering his heart.
“Brody—”
“Wait,” he says, holding a finger up.
I watch as he peels the tape back and lifts the gauze off. I step forward, eager to see what’s beneath that gauze and medical tape. It’s a fucking tattoo. He got a tattoo!
“A dove,” I whisper, staring at the intricate dove sitting right above his heart.
He nods, his voice thick with emotion as he says, “A dove holding an olive branch. Because…because you forced me to surrender. To call a truce with the demons of my past and lay them to rest. You…you saved me.”
His words catch me off guard, and I extend one finger to trace the outline of the dove. He put me on his body. I’m a fucking tattoo!
“I put you here, because this is where you belong. You’re in my heart, Sabrina. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
He chuckles, giving me a crooked smile. “If you say so.”
TWENTY SEVEN
Two Months Later
WHEN I HEAR A DOOR OPENING, naturally my head turns. I watch in unadulterated awe as my girl emerges from our bedroom, donning only one of my t-shirts and a pair of lacy underwear that peeks out from beneath the hem of my shirt. She rubs her eyes and takes a deep sigh, wrapping her arms around me from behind. She presses a kiss to my cheek, and I turn around to kiss her deeply on the lips. She smiles in contentment as I take the bacon I’ve been frying out of the skillet.
In the move from Sabrina’s parents’ house, we got a whole bunch of furniture. Ana was more than happy to donate her living room set, her kitchen table, her mahogany dresser and vanity, and her old entertainment center. When we expressed that we were able to buy our own furniture, she told us she just needed an excuse to redecorate her home. Of course, we’re not going to turn down free shit.
In the hideous custody battle of Sabrina and Brody vs. Grace, Dalis, and Bianca, we were able to obtain custody of Scout, the Matteo family Yorkie. Of course, the girls forced us to work out visitation with them at least every other weekend, but we are pretty happy with our arrangement. Macbeth, however, is another story. I’ve been told he mopes every day until we bring Scout by for a play date. Dalis and Grace are hoping Mac’s depression will result in Ana and Gabriel buying them another dog.
I spend a lot of time with the kids when I have the chance, and I try to get the younger girls once a week. I really love having Mila around because I got attached to her. She’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever met. I think a bond was created between us. Ana even says that Mila has a hard time getting to sleep at night since we left.
Scout’s the best, and having her greet me every time I come home from work is great, but I have to admit that I miss Mila.
Scout is sitting at my feet, staring up at me as I prepare food. Behind Sabrina’s back, I toss Scout a piece of cooked bacon. She wags her tail gratefully and I smirk. Yeah, she better be happy about that, because that’s the only bacon she’s getting out of me.
“Morning,” Sabrina murmurs.
Her just-woke-up voice is so sexy. I’m actually surprised she’s just gotten out of bed. Usually, she’s an early bird and I wake up to an empty bed and breakfast on the table.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” I reply, smiling.
I’ve decided to make her breakfast since she’s been working extra hard to make sure I have dinner when I come home from work each day.
Last night, I came home to find her curled into a ball on the couch, her favorite TV show watching her. She never misses her shows, so I know she must have either been exhausted or not feeling well, so I just ordered some takeout, then carried her to bed.
My girl is the entire package. She cooks, she cleans, and she likes to take care of me. But she doesn’t object when I take care of her right back. Like, a month ago, I sent her off to the spa—her second graduation gift—with Nickayla. While she was gone, I deep cleaned the entire apartment, rearranged the living room like she’d been
dying
to, and had dinner ready for when Colin picked the girls up and brought them home.
She does more than I ever could expect, and she loves doing it.
This morning, however, I want to show my girl how much I appreciate all she does for me.
“Sit, Dove,” I tell her, serving plates for both of us.
Making her way over to the small kitchen table, she sits in one of the chairs and smiles sweetly up at me. I walk over to her, plates in hand, grinning widely as she devours me with her eyes.
This is something I can never get tired of. Every morning, I wake up to the most beautiful smile on her face—always after swatting me with a pillow for waking her up too early—and a kiss. And every time she looks at me, she has this expression that reminds me I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Every time she looks at me, I see her love, her need, her desire for me reflected in her beautiful brown gaze.
“This looks great, babe,” she says, pulling her plate in front of her.
Before I sit down, I walk over to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of orange juice out. I pour a glass for each of us, then take it over to her and finally take my seat across from her. I dig in immediately, watching as she drowns her hashed browns in salsa and mixes it with her eggs. Grabbing a tortilla from the center of the table, she puts a little of everything inside a piece of tortilla and takes a bite. I dig in the same time she does, and I watch her intently.
Lately, she hasn’t been eating much. She barely touches her dinner plate anymore, so I figured maybe she was missing her mom’s cooking. On Ana’s advice, I made Sabrina’s second favorite breakfast food in the hopes that I can get her to finally eat something.
She takes another bite and then her face scrunches into some disgusted expression. She chews slowly, drops her fork onto her plate, and shoves the plate away. She continues to chew slowly, and then suddenly, her hand flies to her mouth and she leaps out of her seat.
The bathroom door slams quickly and I’m left sitting here, completely flabbergasted.
It takes me a couple minutes to get out of my chair and rush into action. I open the door to the bathroom. Once inside, I find her on her knees, her head hanging over the toilet. She heaves, and I drop to my knees beside her, grabbing her hair and pulling it back as she empties the contents of her stomach. She groans and then flushes the toilet, slamming the seat down. I take her hands and help her to her feet.
“This is so embarrassing.” Wiping her mouth, she breathes heavily, and looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve seen me much worse. Was it the food?”
She shakes her head slowly. “I just can’t seem to keep anything down these days.”
I nod in understanding, and I wrack my brain for anything I can possibly do to make her feel better. She looks completely miserable, and I decide she needs some fluids in her system before she gets dehydrated.
“Come on,” I say, tucking my arm behind her knees and the other behind her head. I cradle her to my chest and carry her back to our room, shaking my head. I kick the door open and lay her in the center of the bed. Once I’ve laid her down, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Let me go get you some water, okay?”
She nods weakly, clutching her pillow for dear life, and I head back to the kitchen.
I shake my head at the food sitting on the table. I don’t even know why I tried doing this with such heavy food. She’s been barely able to keep anything but soup down for the past week. I should have started off slow until I knew her stomach could handle her favorite foods again. She’s been sick since the day she made pozole for the first time last weekend for our get together with Nic and Colin.
I pour ice cold water into a cup and grab a package of saltine crackers.
Padding through the apartment, I go back to the bedroom. When I get there, Scout is sitting in her lap, curled into a ball. Man, I love this dog. She knows exactly when we need her.
I sit down on the bed beside Sabrina, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. She sits up, graciously taking the crackers and water. She hesitantly takes a bite of one of the crackers and closes her eyes.
“Thank you,” she says. She gives me the saddest look and pouts. “I’m sorry I threw up your food, babe. It was
really
good. I just…I think whatever bug I’ve had for this past week is taking forever to pass. But it was fantastic, just like Mom’s. Once I’m feeling better, I would really love if you could make it again.”
I nod. “Of course I will. Why don’t we just take it easy today, yeah? I’ll go get a couple movies from the living room and we can just veg all day.”
Her face lights up. We haven’t laid in bed all day in…well, ever. We’re always on the move, the two of us together. So her being sick is the perfect opportunity for us to rest up before her birthday party tomorrow evening at her parents’ place.
“Sounds great to me,” Sabrina says.
“I’ll be right back.”
I hop out of bed and watch with a smile as she settles against the pillow and takes a bite of another cracker.
Once I’m in the living room, I sit on the floor in front of our extensive DVD and Blu-Ray collection, gathering movies. My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, and I stare down at it.
Dove: Bring the Lord of the Rings. It’s about time I watched your favorite with you.
I grin this stupid, wide grin at her text message. I’m not the type of guy to watch chick flicks, but
When Harry Met Sally
has quickly become one of my favorites thanks to her. However, the fact that she’s requesting my all-time favorite trilogy for our first Veg in Bed day has me smiling like I never have before.
I really hope she loves it as much as I do because it’s
great
—and not just because the guys are ‘hot’ like Nickayla and Dalis.
Me: Will do. Anything else?
I start stacking movies up and stand up.
Dove: Hurry back. Scout and I miss you already.
I laugh, making my way back to my girls, multiple movies in hand.
…
WHILE BRODY WAS GATHERING MOVIES, I made an appointment with my doctor.
I’ve been sick far too long for this to just be some stomach bug. And if the timing—plus my calculations regarding my last period—are correct, I know that’s not the case.
I think I’m pregnant.
I don’t want to say anything to Brody until it’s been doctor confirmed. I’m not sure how he’ll react exactly, but for today, I’m going to enjoy my time with my man before our worlds get turned upside down. I have an appointment for two p.m. tomorrow, and I’m thankful for the fact that I was able to get my birthday off of work so I have the time to spare.
This isn’t how I expected my life to go right out of high school. I wasn’t planning on having kids until my mid-twenties, but I know that if it’s happening now, it’s happening for a reason. I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared, because I am. The circumstances of my mother’s death haunt me daily, and I’d like to think that I won’t turn out to be like her. And with Brody’s father still lurking in the shadows, I can’t help but be incredibly terrified of bringing a child into this world of ours.