J. Salsbury - Fighting to Forgive

Blake and Rex harmonize, dropping key and growling out the lyrics much deeper than Axl Rose was capable of singing. My heart hammers behind my ribs. I lean left, right, but can’t see Axelle. I have to know what she’s thinking. I need to see her face.

I make my way from the poolside table to the stage and smile at the shouted encouragement of my friends left at the table.

Rounding the crowd of kids and the few adults, I find Axelle up front. Dead center. My breath catches in my throat, and I curl my lips between my teeth to keep from sobbing. Her head is tilted back, her eyes shining and fixed on Blake as he belts the words directly to her. She sways to the music. Killian is at her side, watching her face just as intently as I am.

The song breaks for the infamous guitar solo. I can’t take my eyes off Blake as his fingers dance across the guitar strings. His head’s down, strong legs open slightly and bent at the knees. He bites his lip in concentration as the guitar solo that puts Slash to shame ignites the crowd’s applause.

My own personal rock star.

I drag my eyes away and catch Rex watching Blake. He’s shaking his head, no doubt blown away once again by the natural gift that his friend possesses. It’s amazing, and a shame that he kept it hidden as long as he had.

Looking back and forth between the stage and Axelle, I watch, captivated, until the song slows and comes to an end. Everyone erupts in applause, and Rex says something to Blake, the excitement on his face obvious.

“Happy seventeenth birthday, kiddo,” Blake says into the mic. “That was part one of my gift to you.” He pulls an envelope out of his back pocket. “Here’s part two.”

“What?” I advance toward the stage, curious. He said he was going to play her a song—he didn’t say anything about an envelope. Is it money?

She reaches up and takes the gift from his hand. I swing my gaze from Blake’s nervous face to Axelle’s curious one as she opens a letter. Her eyes scan whatever’s written there, and her lip starts to quiver. Oh, God. Is it bad? What did he give her?

I push my way to her just as she covers her mouth with her hand.

“Axelle, what is it?” I say, and try to read the paper over her shoulder.

As if I’m not even there, she crushes the paper to her chest, shaking her head and gazing up at Blake.

He squats down to meet her eyes. “What do you think? Will you allow me the honor of being your dad?”

Oh my God!

She whimpers and takes a long deep breath, pulling her hand from her mouth. “But… I’ll be eighteen in a year. It’d only be for one year, and…” She tilts her head, squinting. “Are you sure?”

“Doesn’t matter to me if you’re seventeen or seventy-seven. If I could hand pick a daughter, I’d pick you. Every time.” He climbs down and pulls her into his arms, and she lets go of her tears. “I love you, Axelle Rose. We have a pretty kick-ass opportunity here. We get to choose who we claim as family. I choose your mom, and you. It’s your life, and I’ll be here for you no matter what you decide. It’s your choice.”

He must hear my crying, because he looks over and holds out his arm. I rush into his embrace, wrapping my arms around the two people I love most in the world, and thanking God for every single thing, all the bad and the mistakes, everything that brought me to where I am.

Axelle nods into his chest. “Yes, Blake. I say yes.” Her arms go tight around his waist. “I choose you.”

Blake

Safe to say that this night couldn’t get any better. Ataxia has been playing for the last hour, and the kids have been dancing and singing along. Axelle hasn’t stopped smiling once since I sang for her. I know because I’ve been checking. My daughter. I have a daughter. The thought pulls my lips into a grin I can’t tame.

“Baby, we are not naming our kid Eugene.” Jonah’s been playfully arguing with his wife over baby names.

“We have to at least consider it. It’s Guy’s middle name,” Raven says, and shoves a fist full of corn chips in her mouth.

“The fuck we do.” He runs his hand over her swollen belly. “That’s my baby growing in that sexy body. If it’s a boy, we name him Ryan, after my dad.”

“Right, Ryan Eugene,” she says through a cheek full of chips.

“What if it’s a girl?” I throw the question out there, and then look over my shoulder wondering where the hell my woman is. She said she was running upstairs to grab a sweatshirt, but that was forty-five minutes ago.

Before Layla and Axelle moved in with me, I had no idea how long it took a woman to put herself together. Now I’m convinced that women spend at least half their lives involved in some kind of beautification ritual. But almost an hour to put on a sweatshirt? Huh…

“If it’s a girl, that’s easy.” Raven shrugs, licking her fingers. “Bertha.”

Jonah and I cringe simultaneously.

“Shit, woman. You’re naming a baby, not a car.” I lean to see past the crowd of kids currently surrounding Axelle. No sign of Layla anywhere. A flicker of panic rolls my stomach. What the fuck is keeping her? “Good luck with the baby names, bro.” I clap Jonah on the shoulder. “Sounds like you’re fucked.”

He pulls his wife into his arms and feeds her a bite of his food. “I love Bertha, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Ew, Jonah,” she says around a mouthful. “I was kidding.”

Unable to sit still another second, I let them know I’ll be right back and head up to check on Layla. I tell myself that she’s on the phone with her parents or stuck talking to a neighbor, but there’s a voice in my head that reminds me of Valentine’s Day. Warning me that what I have is too sweet to be real, and that I could lose it if I don’t pay close enough attention. I quicken my pace until I’m at my condo.

She’s not in the kitchen, living room, or front deck. I move down the hallway to our bedroom. It’s empty, but the bathroom door is shut. I knock twice and stick my ear to the door. “Mouse? You okay?”

The toilet flushes. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” The faucet runs, and I hear what sounds like her spitting.

I’m about to knock again, this time more forcefully, when the door opens. She smiles up at me, but her face is pale as hell. “Sorry. My stomach feels off.” She moves into my arms and slumps in my hold.

“Damn, sweetheart.” I kiss her head and scoop her legs up to carry her to the bed. “I’ll have Jonah take over at the party so I can come up and be with you.”

She grabs my hand. “No, don’t do that. Just give me a second. I actually feel a little better. But, um, can you just sit with me for a second?”

Like she has to ask? I throw myself on the bed and lie down next to her, pressing her head to my chest. “When did you start feeling sick?”

“I’ve been a little off all night, but I thought it was just nerves. Then I was walking up to change, and one of the catering guys walked by with a bunch of hamburgers. The smell of the cooked meat—” She covers her mouth and burps into her hand.

“That was hot.” I chuckle and pull her in tighter. Not a damn thing this girl could do would turn me off.

I’m fucking hooked. Pussy whipped. Tied down.

And over-fucking-joyed about it.

She giggles and nuzzles into my side. “Mmm, now I’m hungry. We have chips and salsa, right?”

“Yeah, if you get there fast enough. Raven’s inhaling food like a Hoover down there.”

“Well, she’s eating for two. I remember what that was like. One minute you’re starving to death and the next you’re…” Her body tenses against mine.

“Mouse? You okay?”

She doesn’t move.

“Shit, come on, I’ll get you to the bathroom.” I scoop her up.