Page 29 of Forbidden Desires

“I know exactly what it was like!” my father responded jovially. “All those late nights. Eric was such a fussy baby. Coming home on leave was almost like coming back to a whole second job.” He laughed heartily. “But I loved it. When you have a child of your own, you’ll understand how much of your world is really just theirs. You’re making sure that it’s the best possible place for them to thrive. I think sometimes that I was too hard on him…sometimes…”

My father’s voice trailed off, and hearing the confusion in his tone that told me he was grasping at other memories, or fading out of the current ones, I finally stepped into the room.

“Got your toffees,” I said, as though I hadn’t heard a large portion of their conversation.

My father was immediately distracted by the treat, and both he and my mother were quick and willing to take their sweets and indulge in them.

I handed one off to Jasmine, as well. I searched her face as her eyes met mine, unable to help but wonder what she was thinking after all that talk of babies. If marriage and children were something she wanted for herself eventually. And why did the thought of any other man giving her those things make me feel like I’d been sucker punched in the stomach?

CHAPTER 12

Jasmine

We stayed only an hour. It didn’t take long, or much it seemed, to tire Eric’s parents out. They were far more lucid than I had expected them to be. Though it was odd interacting with them like we had met each other before, they didn’t seem to realize that I was a new person introduced in their lives, just as Eric had said.

They were sweet people. I had braced myself for any number of unfavorable outcomes, from his parents having an outburst to them potentially asking questions I had no idea how to answer, to them not liking me and upsetting Eric because of my presence there.

None of those things happened.

As we rode back to the hotel in silence, I wondered how Eric felt about our time with his parents. He hadn’t said a word since we’d left them peacefully napping in their apartment in the carefacility, only giving instructions to the driver to take us straight back to the hotel.

It wasn’t particularly late; too soon for a dinner, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to do much of anything at the moment but return to what probably felt like the safety of obscurity within the confines of the hotel’s walls.

Maybe he needed a break, and I think I did, too. We went our separate ways once we got back to our suite, the both of us beelining for a shower. The hot water and the sounds of it trickling down and hitting the tiled bathroom floor proved calming, even if my curiosity about this entire situation hadn’t waned. The only problem was, would Eric be up to talking about it? Allowing me more insight to the personal life that he had just let me witness? In all honesty, I wished that I had gotten to see more of it. There was so much to Eric’s story that I felt had yet to be discovered.

When I came out of the shower into our main room, Eric was already seated on the bed. He had his towel around his shoulders and wore nothing else but his boxers. I had my own oversized t-shirt on, bra-less. For people who had been naked and intimate with each other already, this felt more vulnerable.

Before I could figure out what question I needed, or wanted, to ask first, Eric spoke.

“You were really good with my parents today,” he said softly, meeting my gaze, his own grateful. “I didn’t expect them to be so coherent and social. That doesn’t always happen.”

I eyed him a moment and, deciding it was probably okay, sat beside him on the bed.

“Were they a little more back to normal today?” I asked.

Eric let out a small laugh that had a sad tinge to it. “Somewhat, though my father was never so openly emotional or so light-hearted when I was growing up. I get my serious personality from him, and Mother was always more proper.Today, they were very different from how they used to be, which was nice to see. But in terms of them being better, it’s been a very long time since I’ve seen them happy like that, or able to recall small things about the past without it causing them distress.”

He glanced over to me. “I know that it likely won’t last. Things like dementia don’t have a reversal, only treatment that gets progressively more and more specialized and focused. But today it felt like I had parents again for the first time in a long time. So, I thank you for that.”

I swallowed, not expecting such an answer, and had no idea how I was supposed to respond to something like that. As if my being there made some sort of monumental difference. I was only a stranger, really, to them. Less of a stranger to Eric, but certainly not the figure of his wife that I pretended to play today for his father and mother.

“I don’t think it was all me,” I said, placing my hands in my lap. “I think they were really happy to see you, and your presence probably helped boost their spirits. I just needed to be there so they didn’t ask too many questions and get upset, right? So, it worked.”

“Hmm.”

Then, he did something unexpected for a man so proper and in control of his actions. He flopped inelegantly onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “This feels strange,” he murmured. “To have expected the worst and to now be so confused by the fact that it actually turned out alright.”

“Parental baggage is strange,” I conceded. “I don’t think it’s supposed to make sense.”

“Fair.” He hesitated, before turning his head toward me and continuing. “You understand because of your own parents, don’t you?” he guessed, his expression astute. “You said you lost them your freshman year in college. You haven’t said explicitly howyou lost them, but I feel like it’s the reason you can relate to my situation with my parents, but on a different level?”

Other than that one time, the morning after our first sleep over, I’d never mentioned my parents again, and he hadn’t asked specifics. I was honestly shocked that he remembered, and even more surprised he was bringing up something so personal now. Then again, we’d just been through something very emotional together, a bonding of sorts I never would have anticipated.

Normally I’d tell a client this was strictly a no-fly zone when it came to our arrangement, but it seemed unfair to withhold my own past when he’d shared so much about his parents. Besides, some things couldn’t be put back behind walls once there weren’t any more walls to speak of. And the ones between us were slowly, inevitably, crumbling the more time we spent together, and I was helpless to refuse this man anything, I realized.

“Yes…I dropped out of school because my parents died. They were killed in a car crash my first year of college. A hit and run, and they’ve never found the person responsible,” I said, feeling that anger and frustration I’d suppressed over the years swirl to the surface. That someone had basically gotten away with my parents’ murder, without facing any consequences. “I had a full ride scholarship, and I’d barely started my first semester when I received a call from one of my dad’s co-workers that they were in the hospital.”

Eric moved so he laid on his side, facing me, his expression compassionate. “Were they in the hospital long?”

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