Page 96 of In You
I keep my eyes downcast, focusing on tucking the top sheet over the blanket just right and picking imaginary lint off the cover. "It's nothing."
He pauses for a second then turns to sit on the bed, reaching over to grab my hand in his, imploring me with pleading eyes. I pull away, and turn to the nightstand to straighten it up next; grabbing up my mug from last night's hot cocoa, as well as the napkin left there, and moving to walk around the bed ignoring him staring at me.
What if Camilla gets all the good times with Caleb and baby Tris, and you're just left with all the sorrow and the bad stuff?
I'm so engrossed in my thoughts that when I feel a warm hand wrap around my wrist I jump, dropping the empty mug on the floor. It hits the rug with a dull thump, but when I look back up, Caleb is sinking down to the floor on one knee and holding out a wedding ring.
My eyes go wide.
"Caleb," I say in a shocked tone, putting a trembling hand over my mouth."Caleb, what are you doing?"
He shakes his head. "No," he says in a choked voice. "It's not what I'm doing. What areyoudoing?" I get lost for a second staring into his beautiful eyes, the eyes that saw me all those months ago and decided I was worth saving. "Tamryn, will you marry me, my love?"
I bend down, placing my hand against his cheek and smoothing my thumb over his bottom lip. Not believing how lucky I am that my savior wants to marry me.
"It's Camilla,"I whisper with a little giggle. "And yes. I will."
He chuckles, rising to his feet before gathering me to his chest and tilting my head up to look into my eyes. Lowering his mouth to mine, he treats me to a bone searing kiss that makes my knees buckle and my soul weep.
"Always," he whispers against my lips. "You're mine for always. And I'm never letting you go."
35
I Promise
Tamryn
It'salazySundaymorning five months to the day after we'd found out I was pregnant, and I'm in the shed with Caleb. Trying to paint a little watercolor canvas for baby Tris, admiring my wedding ring, and shooing Tink away when she tries to sniff the paint and sneezes. It's been a few days since we said "I do," and I'm still on a high from how perfect our wedding was. Intimate.
Very us.
Frank was there, as well as Caleb's friend Colin and his wife Olivia. I like her. And though we don't live close, I'm hopeful that we can be friends even if it's long distance.
"Hey, Caleb?" I call softly, looking over at him several feet away carving a design into the new door he'd been working on. Part of me wants to leave him in peace, but the other part of me really needs what I'm getting ready to ask for, even if it disturbs his work.
"Yeah?" he says, looking up with an arched brow and running a hand through his thick hair, disheveling it even more. "What's up, my love?"
"Can we go to the store?"
The corner of his mouth tips up as he gives me a mischievous look. He really is so handsome. "You having a crazy pregnancy craving again?"
I smile, touching my hand to my swollen belly. At seven months pregnant, I'm showing a great deal, and Caleb has been doting on me every chance he gets. So far he's been the perfect, loving partner, and is shaping up to be the perfect, protective father. I'm not surprised about that at all.
But Iama little surprised he won't let me raise my arms above my head anymore. Or really do anything that means I’m not relaxing.He doesn't even like me to cook with the cast iron skillets. Pregnancy hasn't been hard. At seven months along, I feel great. Just like I did before I became pregnant.
Well, except for one thing; I crave sex every day. Sometimesmultipletimes a day, and Caleb is more than happy to oblige me. We spend more time outside of our clothes than in them. He's had to fix the frame on our bed more times than I can count because the screws keep coming loose.
I told him to put the mattress on the floor, but he's not having it.
"No." I shake my head, walking to where he sits and put my hands on his chest, tilting my head up to look at him when his hands smooth over mine. "I wanna go visit my mom. I need to talk to her."
Just then, baby Tris kicks me hard, making my eyes go round with wonder.
The same anxiety that used to be present when I would bring up my mom isn't there anymore after these last few months Caleb has spent in therapy, trying to heal from the past abuse from his mom, and then the stress of my dissociative disorder. He's been taking each day in stride. His nightmares are few and far between. He doesn't bathe with bleach anymore, we can have any cleaning product in the house I desire, and I can more freely talk about my mom without seeing that tortured look on his face.
But the worry is still there that he'll relapse into his old habits, or have a bad day. I worry about walking in on him drinking bleach, just like he worries with me for things he won't give a name to.
I'm still switching between alters a lot more than my specialists like. My fear over being a parent is getting the better of me the closer we get to my due date, which is why I feel like I need my mom.
