Page 83 of Shifted

"News flash: We made a baby that night." He chuckled at me as I sighed, "It's not funny." His fingers ruffled through my hair as I sighed.

"We make cute kids," he adds, pulling my lips back into his. I've missed this, you."

"Well, I've been here."

"Yeah, with Reed," He snarls in disgust.

"Bet you had a time and a half getting to beat the shit out of him, huh?" A guilty look shines on his face as he looks to the ground. "I would've murdered him if I could," He admits.

"Aw, my favorite serial killer." His husk-like laugh reminded me of college when he'd hold me in the night and talk to me for countless hours about anything and everything, even though he was tired. “He wasn't you, not even close, and that was a problem." He looked up at me as the words left my mouth solemnly.

"Nobody could ever be you," He replies softly.

"Even if she knew about us, why did Bella do this? Pull two people who loved each other apart?" I knew I had to get the question out, the question I wanted to avoid, to hold together her integrity. I knew I'd have to confront her to learn the full truth.

"She wanted us to suffer like she was.” He mutters, leaving me confused.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Hope Taylor

"I think my biggest pregnancy craving had to have been chocolate milk. Like I was making 3 a.m. runs for chocolate milk at eight months. Your mother would stock up my fridge, and she’d bring me powdered donuts because my cravings were so strong. Seriously, I could ruin a day with my attitude." He laughed as I spoke. We were flipping through pictures of my pregnancy—the sonograms of Joely and baby photos. I was worried he'd be sad, but he was grateful I was sharing these with him.

"What brand of chocolate milk? If you were making these runs, you speak of… there must've been one brand." I smile at the thought of the red and white logo wrapped around the brown bottle.

"Georgia’s Farm is top-tier among all milk brands. Her farm is thirty minutes out from Boston, and I went there to try and find her, and I discovered the homemade ice cream instead. Did it make me want to vomit hours later, maybe? Did I still drink cartons of it? One hundred percent." He swiped through photos of me and stopped at my beach ones. Polaroids and printed photos filled his hands, and one caught his eye.

"Pictures at Penny Lane," He whispered aloud.

"You think Grandma would settle for any other beach? She was so excited for Joe. She knew you were the father, so I talked to her about you coming home. She figured you couldn't have known." Leaning back into his arms, he set aside the photos as we stared out into the Boston sky, "She loved you. Hell, she planned a wedding for us." I felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. She was our biggest cheerleader.

But as I looked up at him, he seemed to be holding back something. I sat up slightly, waiting for an answer: “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked. “So is your daughter,” I counter, causing him to smile again.

"I'm no traditionalist, but I did ask for your grandma's permission to marry you, and she said yes." With that, I immediately felt the tears leak from my eyes and slowly down my cheeks. She’d known he wanted all in, and then he was gone. She knew he loved me and wanted forever with me, yet she never said a thing. Maybe it was because she couldn’t believe what happened and knew saying that would make things worse.

"I hope you know how much I loved you because you gave me everything when I had nothing," I whispered gratefully, turning to meet his face again and sinking into a kiss. I pulled away as the adoration in his eyes set in. “You know she has your last name. I mentioned that before, but she’s a Jones." A look of surprise filled his face. It was something I’d kept hidden well. Not even Maria or Bella knew; nobody knew.

"Really?" I nodded, squeezing his hand. There was no other name I wanted her to have, no matter how angry I was. That’s who Joely is, her father's daughter in the good lights of him that I held in my heart. "Her birth certificate is signed, Jolene Windsor Jones." I watched as the tears succumbed to him as well. But I knew it wasn't due to his last name; it was due to his grandmother's first name, Windsor. She was Maria's mother and was such a special person that I had the pleasure of knowing. I knew it was what he would've wanted her middle name to be, and I had no special meaning to give but hers.

"Jolene," He mused at the memory, "Quite the name?"

"I wonder who came up with it?" He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo that I had failed to notice before: it was an acronym of some sort. IWSKILH was branded on the side of his bicep. I couldn’t quite guess what it meant as I tried to think. But nothing could fully click with me and those letters.

"What's the acronym for?" He pointed his finger to each letter and began with ‘I.’

"In response to your words, I wish he loved me back, but instead, it's “I wish she knew I loved her.” My heart felt funny as I pressed my head into his chest, trying to hide my tears. I found comfort in knowing that all this time, the answer was right across his arm.

"Theo Jones, the secret romantic." I turned my head to face him again, and he pulled me in for another kiss. Each one was better than the last. I liked this, our bubble of peace for once, but I missed our daughter. "When did your mom say she's dropping Joely off?"

"Soon, earlier when she called, I told her that you had a bad evening. You didn't want Joe to see you upset. But I was obviously covering and... I didn’t know what to say or how to–” My hand covers his mouth as he tries to explain himself. He didn’t need to; he watched me bleed out and run the other way. Of course, he didn’t know how to tell them.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, “I just desperately need to see my baby.” I didn’t want her to see the mess her mother had become. Injured and basically brought back together by a stapled wound. “I know. I want to see her too,” he admits, making my heart quiver.

Wrapping my arms around him again, I hold onto his embrace tight. Today was a big one for hugs and emotions. His face nuzzles into the crook of my neck as he begins to place chaste kisses against it. I move myself to straddle him, and a fit of laughter escapes me as his nose tickles my neck, something he knew about me. His fingers traveled down to my thigh and then slipped into the waistband of my thong.

“Dangerous waters, Theo,” my lips brush against his ear as his fingers find their way deeper into my underwear. "I can't have sex," I warn. My condition prohibited it for six weeks, according to Dr. Yui.

"This isn't penetration; this is stimulation." I leaned my head back as he began slipping a finger into me. I latch my hand over my mouth to hold in my moans. My other hand squeezes his thigh as he sinks deeper into my wetness. He moves his finger faster as I feel myself pulse around him.

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