Page 76 of Mine to Worship

“I met Andre Garcia. He wants my paintings in his galleries. And after the baby gets here, I think I’m going to do it.”

“You have this determination in you now, as if you are less scared to chase after what you want. I know it also had a lot to do with that child molester, but Kian has a good influence on you. You two are going to be okay.”

I nod, empowered by her assurance.

“I am pressing charges against Robert. He deserves to pay for what he did to me. It’s time to speak up. I only regret it took me this long.”

“I am so proud of you.” It’s clear not only in her words, but in her posture oozing pride, her eyes shining with pride, her words colored with pride.

I have changed but still a few other fears remain.

My heart flutters when the blaring sound of the ATV’s engine hits my ears, and the man I love appears. Kian smiles at me, and butterflies take over my stomach, his dimples captivating me. The feelings I have for him are as deep as the universe itself.

He jumps from the vehicle and strides towards me. I stand up with a smile and he presses me to him, his heart pounding under my palm. There is no pretending, it never was, it’s love.

“How are you two?” he asks me, his eyes searching and questioning.

How could I ever think that we’re done when my entire being has morphed into loving him. In all the uncertainties, in all what will come and go, I want him to be my constant, and our love my anchor.

“We’re fine. Today is a good day.”

He rubs my belly and my mom smiles fondly at us. I forget everything around me when he’s around.

“Hi, Elaine,” he says and chuckles as he scratches his neck. “I missed her.”

“I can tell.”

My father dismounts the ATV.

“How was it?” I ask him.

“It’s a beautiful area. You’re coming with me tomorrow,” my dad says to my mom, crooking a finger at her.

We enter the living room, and at Kian’s nearness, the baby hairs on my body stand up from the goosebumps he commands. This is all I am reduced to, intense feelings, raw sensations, and basic desires. I love that he can’t stop touching me, his body brushing mine as he passes by, placing a hand on my thigh at the table.

“I made a reservation for tonight if it’s okay with you two,” he asks and my mom smiles at him candidly.

“That’s sweet of you.”

My parents retreat to the guest room, and we spend the rest of the day watching the MMA finals.

“Wouldn’t it be better to be there?” I ask and he kisses my temple when I cuddle against him.

“I am fine where I am.”

Kian talks about the fighters, gesticulating animatedly, his love for the sport obvious.

“You would have been the best,” I whisper, and he grins.

“If you say so.”

I love the sparkle of happiness in his eyes as he twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers.

“I am happy,” I confess, and his eyes seek mine. “I really am.”

He chokes on a lungful of air and excuses himself. I find him bent over the sink, his hands gripping the edges, his head slouched.

“Kian?”

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