What If

“Jesus, Briar, what kind of a man do you think I am?” He reached up his fingers to touch the temple of my head and trail them downward until he reached the underside of my chin.

“I think you’re the best person I know,” I choked out, wondering if this would be the last time his touch would be allowed.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, wiping the wetness from below my eyes using his thumbs. His skin was dry, scratchy, but welcomed.

I looked up into his eyes with sorrow beating down on my heart. “I need to know what’s going on, Arrow. These past few days have been miserable. Tell me,” I pleaded, gripping the wrists that still rested on my cheeks.

“He’s not mine, Briar.” I tilted my head to the side. “Miles isn’t my son.” For some odd reason the news didn’t relieve me. The lack of relief forced me to realize that there was more to my melancholy than just the fact that Arrow could’ve had a child with Lacey. I didn’t say anything trying to work out my thoughts. “Did you hear me, baby?”

“I need a minute.” My voice sounded odd, quiet, and detached. Inwardly I was puzzled as to why the news didn’t bring me automatic relief. I stood and moved around Arrow’s body, walking to the bathroom. Once inside the small room I undressed and slid into the shower. The water beat down on my back as I leaned against the wall across from the showerhead. I pressed my head against the cool tiles, eyes clenched.

I heard the door open, heard the sound of Arrow’s clothes joining mine on the floor, and then the ruffle when the shower curtain was moved to the side. He stepped into the fall of the water, blocking most of spray from hitting me. Chills broke out down my spine because of the lack of warm water hitting me but also because I had a very naked Arrow in a tight space with me. I didn’t yell at him to get out because I didn’t want him to. I wanted him with me, close to me, holding me, soothing me, but, I didn’t know if he could actually fix what was wrong. I didn’t even know what was wrong.

It felt like everything from our past together, everything from when we were fifteen all the way up to the past few months, was weighing heavily on me. Even if Lacey agreed to a divorce now that they knew Arrow wasn’t the father, could Arrow and I ever really have a solid future? After everything?

One of his fingers touched the side of my ribcage where the lyrics to “Dear God” were inked into my skin. That was the only part of him on me, yet I could feel the light tracing he did of each word through my whole body.

Once he finished his path along my side, he stepped up, pressing the front of his body into my back. Lifting my hair off of my neck, he moved it all to one side and touched his lips to the back of my neck.

“Talk to me. What’s going on up here?” He tapped the side of my skull. “Is it Lacey? She agreed to the divorce, Briar. That’s what I was busy working on the past couple of days.” His mouth was close to my ear, each word punctuated with his hot breath on my skin.

I stayed silent. The news was good. Never in a million years did I think Lacey would agree. Darcy was right, Arrow needed time to make it happen, but he did it. Still, did it matter? Could we be happy? Could we move on from our less-than-desirable past? It seemed impossible.

His hands moved down my arms like the wet droplets racing down my skin. “Briar, you’re killing me. Talk to me.”

“How do we move on from our past, Arrow? How do we both forget about all the hurt?” I was getting worked up, my voice rising with each word. He gripped the place above my elbow and turned me around to face him. Even through my frustration and anger I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was standing nude in front of Arrow for the second time since we’d been together. He leaned into me, pressing my back into the wall. I arched my back when I felt the chill of the tile. His eyes darted down to my breasts, and when he looked back up into my eyes, his were dark and hungry.

As much as I wanted him, my fury got the best of me. Why didn’t he tell me how he felt when we were teenagers? We could’ve been together all this time… This ordeal with Lacey would’ve never happened!

“Say it!” he growled, his face inches from mine. “I can practically taste your resentment… say it.”

“How am I supposed to get past all of this?” I bit out. “So she signed the damn papers. So the baby isn’t yours… That doesn’t change everything I’ve gone through the past six months. Damn it, Arrow, it doesn’t change all the awful anguish I’ve felt over you for almost eight and half years!” I shoved his bare shoulders, but his didn’t move; it was like shoving a solid, stone wall.

Hot, wet, infuriated tears ran down my cheeks. He didn’t stop me when I started banging on his chest over and over again with words that I couldn’t even make sense of. All the pent up disappointment, all the miserable places of our past thudded against him as it poured out of me.

“That’s right, let me have it.” He stood still, a frown etched on his face.

“I loved you, and you fucking broke me!” I screamed, smashing both my hands into his sternum.

Out of nowhere, his hands were on my arms and pushing me back, pulling my hands behind my back so I couldn’t continue my abuse.

Breathing heavily, I looked up at his eyes, and froze. He looked pained. Absolutely, wounded.

“We’ve both been broken.” He paused, letting go of my hands, and moved his up to hold my face in his palms. “But Briar, I love every shredded piece.”

Our mouths met, teeth hitting, but neither of us cared. We devoured each other. Arrow consumed me. My hands clawed at his arms, shoulders, and back. His fingers touched every piece of my skin he could reach. Before I knew it, he had one of my legs hitched up on his hip and his hand was guiding his cock inside of me. We both gasped, eyes never leaving one another’s, as he pushed deeper inside of me, filling me, making me feel whole. Even when my head fell back against the wall, the view of his whiskey irises never left my view. His thrusts were slow and deep, worshipping me.

I moaned when his head dipped into my neck, his teeth grazing my skin ever so lightly, nipping and biting his way down to my breasts. Weaving my fingers through the strands of his hair, I pushed my breasts further into his mouth. He sucked long and hard, but then pressed a closed-lipped kiss on each peak, making his way back up to my ear.

“There’s no running away from me, Briar. You run, and I’ll chase you. I’m not letting you go again,” he said huskily against my ear. The mixture of his words and the way he said them brought me to climax. I shook in his arms, falling apart around his still pounding cock. He held me up, pumping into me a few more times until he stiffened and emptied into me. His head rested against the crook of my neck, holding me against him, refusing to leave my body. He didn’t pull away until the water went cold and the chattering of our teeth took place of our heavy, exhausted breaths.

He dried us both off, picked me up, one arm behind my knees and the other around my back, and carried me to the bedroom where he pulled back the blankets and laid me down, naked, beneath them. He joined me, pulling me against the front of his body.

Feeling content for the first time in my life, overwhelmed by the fact that my future was holding me in his arms, I started to drift into a peaceful slumber.