Page 94 of Forgotten Deeds

“No. Can we go? I’m bored,” Iris announces.

“Sure. Let’s find my parents and tell them bye,” Lily says, taking Iris’ hand. Iris extends her other hand, and I smile as I take her tiny one in mine.

* * *

Lily

We step inside the living room, where everyone’s congregating near the stairs. Working our way through the crowd, it’s a chaotic scene: Professor Miller lies at the bottom of the stairs in a contorted position; Mother’s speaking frantically on the phone, while my father is squatting down next to Professor Miller, taking his pulse.

“What is it?” Iris asks, unable to see over the adults in front of her.

“Come on, rainbow goddess. There’s a traffic jam. Let’s go outside until it clears.” Darius leads her out; for that, I’m grateful.

“What happened?” I ask a woman standing next to me.

“Poor man took a tumble down the stairs,” she tells me. “I didn’t see it, but he hit every step on his way down from the sound of it.”

“Oh my,” is all I can come up with.

Soon, an ambulance arrives, and I work my way up to my mother and father, who are speaking to an EMT while Professor Miller is being loaded onto a stretcher.

“Is he going to be alright?” I ask my parents as the emergency responders wheel Professor Miller out.

“He was able to move his legs, so hopefully it’s not a spinal injury, but whatever recovery he’s made from his cycling crash just got negated,” my father tells me, shaking his head. “I’m going to drive to the hospital to meet him there.” I nod, hugging my father goodbye.

“Darling, I simply don’t understand this new marriage of yours. Haven’t you outgrown your rebellious streak yet?” Mother chides when it’s just the two of us.

“Darius is a good man, a good provider, and good to me and Iris. What’s not to understand?” I find myself hotly defending him.

“A personal trainer.” She scoffs. If my mother only knew I used to be an exotic dancer, she’d be the one needing EMT assistance. “What on earth could you two possibly have in common?”

“That is beyond elitist,” I say, crossing my arms. “And I’ll have you know Darius is an extremely intelligent man—fluent in three languages.” Mother doesn’t look convinced, but I continue, “If you want to go back to an estranged relationship with me, keep disparaging my husband.”

“Of course I don’t want that. Lily, I know your father and I made some missteps with you and Iris’ father—”

“Some missteps?” I say incredulously. “You mean forbidding me from seeing Harrison because he wasn’t in the same tax bracket as us, and then trying to force me to have an abortion when I told you I was pregnant?” I hiss.

“Darling, lower your voice,” she says, looking over my shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Mother, we need to go. Thanks for the party.” Giving her a stilted hug, I walk out.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lily

Having tucked Iris in for the night, I take a long bath before climbing into bed; the huge king-size bed feeling even bigger with just me in it. Somewhere along the way, I got used to snuggling next to Darius, who runs at least three degrees hotter than me. The man didn’t even mind when I’d put my icy feet on his legs.

I toss and turn before throwing back the covers in frustration. Switching on the lamp, I pull on my robe and cinch it around my waist as I tiptoe down the hall. Earlier today, I accused Mother of having an elitist mentality, but looking back on my own actions, I owe Darius an apology. Of course, I didn’t mean it when I called him a dumb brute, but he thought I did, and now’s as good a time as any for my mea culpa.

The overhead light’s off in the bonus room, but I find Darius laying on the couch under a blanket with the television muted in the background. “I owe you an apology,” I start. “When I called you a dumb brute, I said that to hurt you. Please know I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I have his attention, and yet he’s preoccupied with a strained look on his face. I find out why when he jerks the blanket down—I’ve caught him stroking his dick.

“What perfect timing. Do you know what the dumb brute was just imagining before you walked in here? You, on all fours; me, eating your pussy from behind.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” I whisper in a husky tone.

“Did you know you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted?” He ignores my last statement as he continues to move his hand up and down his shaft. “I don’t mean that poetically. I mean you fucking taste sweet—with just a hit of acidic lemon, and a back finish of saltiness. But of course my little angel is sweet.”

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