“Awwww.” I laughed. “You make it sound so romantic!”
“Oh, you want romance?” she asked with raised eyebrows before nodding as if to concede. “Okay. Ava told me that she and your Mom are basically depending on you right now. And that they probably will depend on you at least until the divorce is through. And I have to admit, seeing you step up and provide for your family...” she leaned towards me to whisper the next part. “ ... kinda makes me want to lose the condom the next time you mount me.”
I blinked at her for a moment, surprised by that brazen statement. For a split second, I wondered how choosing a father for her children based on his ability to provide was in any way romantic. But then I remembered how rich that girl was. She didn’t need my money at all. She was simply telling me that she was willing to start a family with me, and it fucking floored me for a moment!
“In that case I need to start making plans for Saturday.” I proclaimed.
“Why? What’s Saturday?”
“Valentines Day.” I reminded her, and her eyes got wide. “How about we go on a proper date? I think it’s high time.”
We did not finish our meal. Instead, after hearing my plan to take her out on our first date, she moved seats in favor of sitting in my lap. Two minutes later, she had me so hot again that I simply grabbed her, carried her into the bedroom, and we resumed our activities from earlier.
That night, I fucked her in every position we could think of until the pack of condoms was emptied, and thanks to the condoms lessening the intensity of her tightness, I was pretty sure she enjoyed it just as much as I did.
Chapter 22
The following day, Mia and I stayed in bed far longer than I normally would. Not because we had to fuck some more, but because we both felt like getting out of bed would start some kind of countdown before she had to leave. So, we simply lay cuddled up and enjoying each other’s warmth. For about an hour, I reveled in the feeling of having someone close to me who loves me. And I felt how much I loved her as well. I was completely content with my life, and that happiness dominated my thoughts completely.
After that hour, however, we both reluctantly admitted that it was time for us to take a shower and get started on our day. For Mia, starting on her day meant going home.
After she kissed me goodbye and the door closed behind her, I stood in my living room, realizing I was already missing her. Then my eyes wandered to the wall above my couch, and my mood dropped. I sat down in the armchair, and, for a long time, studied all the pictures of me and Tess.
“Good Morning.” I heard Claire’s happy voice rip me out of my thoughts, and saw her and Ava stand in the door. I didn’t even notice them opening it. While Claire was smiling just as happily as she had sounded, Ava was looking at me with a shrewd grin, no doubt because of me spending the night with Mia.
“M ... Morning.” came my surprised reply, as I tried to quickly curb the emotions that had built over the good half hour I had sat there, got up, and walked into the kitchen. More in an attempt to hide my facial expression from them than to actually do something. When I turned with my freshly brewed coffee in my hand that I didn’t even want, however, Claire was still standing in the middle of the room, studying my every move with concern written on her face.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked softly, her head tilted to the side, and showing an encouraging smile on her lips.
Despite my effort, she obviously had noticed the mood I was in when they came home. I pondered her offer for a moment, then simply nodded and sat back in the armchair.
“Mia and I decided to try and make it official.” I explained, as Claire sat down on the couch opposing me.
“Aww, I’m so happy for you, Honey!” she even clapped her hands together as she said that. “But why do you look like that’s a bad thing?”
I sighed, trying to figure out how to put my feelings into words, and my eyes glanced over to Tess’s photos again. Claire followed my gaze and seemed to immediately realize what was bothering me.
“You are not betraying her. It’s been almost half a year, Honey. It’s been even longer since the last time you saw her. At some point you have to move on. There’s nothing wrong about falling in love again.”
“I know. It’s just ... I kinda feel like...” I still had no idea how to explain it. Claire got up from the couch to instead kneel down in front of me.
“Honey, look at me.” She waited for me to do as she asked, and I saw that her compassionate look had been replaced by determination. “You have your entire life in front of you. You’re not even eighteen yet. Do you seriously think she’d want you to stay single forever, just to honor her memory?” She shook her head, and placed one of her hands on my cheek to caress it. “From what I see in those pictures, she loved you, Honey. Don’t put your life on hold.”
“I know that. In principle, at least. It’s just...” I shrugged my shoulders while groaning in frustration, unable to finish.
“Honey, why is it so hard for you to let go of her?” she asked carefully, her voice almost a whisper.
The effect it had on me was unexpected. When I accepted her offer to talk, I was only thinking about the pictures on my wall, and how starting a relationship with Mia while having a wall plastered with photos of my dead Ex could cause problems. I thought that, with her life experience, Claire might have some insight that could help me. But somehow, when she asked me that question, I felt like risking it. Maybe it was because of her seemingly honest efforts to be an actual mother for me during the last two months, or maybe it was simply my need to finally talk about it, but I suddenly blurted out what I couldn’t say before.
“Because I fucked up as her boyfriend when I let her die alone.” I admitted.
Claire was immediately alarmed. Though, for some reason, I could see a deep sadness in her eyes.
“Honey, you couldn’t know.” she said in the same almost whisper she had used to ask me the first question.
For a moment I was irritated at how she seemed to know what I was talking about, even though I never told anyone about it. But then I remembered how our first night together ended. The night I was so drugged up with painkillers that I thought she was Tess, and that ended with me crying like a little boy while constantly apologizing for not realizing that she had cancer. Back then, Claire had simply held me and let me cry myself out. Now she looked like she wanted to do the same, though I wasn’t anywhere near crying again. I was angry with myself.
“But I did know. I noticed her behavior. I saw her extreme mood swings. And I knew something was wrong. But I ... I thought she was bothered by our age difference or something. I SHOULD’ve realized that it was more than simple crap like that!” I protested, but Claire wasn’t in the least bit impressed.
“You were sixteen!” she reminded me vehemently. “You had no way of realizing that something was seriously wrong! You had no way of understanding what was going on without her telling you! You never experienced anything remotely like it! If anyone is to blame for this, it’s Tess for leaving you in the dark. And it’s us, for pushing you out of our lives and leaving you with nobody but your colleagues to ask for advice.”
Now her voice was full of regret as she got up from her knees and sat on the chair’s armrest instead. And then I got my first mom-hug in roughly a decade, when she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my head into her chest, before she continued talking.