25. Wes

Chapter twenty-five

Wes

“ O n the plane, you said you weren’t feeling well. Now we’re on the other side of the country. The time change may be fucking with you. Since we didn’t have sex last night, it’s not unreasonable to think that you might not want to.” I tell her, keeping her body pressed against the tree. “Are you late?”

She nods. “Three days now.”

While out shopping with my dad, I snuck off and bought a pregnancy test in the event Layne ended up saying something. But me and my big ass mouth couldn’t keep it in any longer. I also bought her the little disc things she uses for her period and some pads, just in case. Along with her favorite snacks, I’m not going to miss something that could make her feel better. I just wonder if I can coax her into taking the test.

Layne grinds her pussy against me, bringing me back to reality. I reach between us, pop the button on her jeans and pull the zipper down. I set her down and drop to my knees, tugging her jeans and underwear down. Slowly, building the tension between us. She shivers slightly as the cool fall air delicately touches her bare skin, sending a cascade of goosebumps down her legs.

I get to my feet and carefully lift her, leaning against the tree for added stability. Layne’s hands clumsily struggle with my belt and jeans, her fingers trembling with anticipation. “We could get caught out here,” her voice trembles as I pull my pants down to just below my ass. I give her a mischievous grin, widening my stance, the head of my cock at her entrance. Layne pushes her hips forward, and I slide right in.

Fuck.

“Doesn’t that make it more exciting?” I thrust up into her, my hips rocking into hers. Layne grips my shoulder to keep herself steady. Her moans echo through the quiet forest. “You really don’t know how to be quiet, do you, baby?”

“Oh fuck you, Wes. Oh shit,” she cries as I slam into her, grunting from thrusting into her so hard.

“I think I’m the one fucking you, Ma Petite Mort . And you’re taking it just like my good little slut. Aren’t you?“ I lean in and claim her mouth before she can sass me some more.

I swallow her moans and cries, wanting the sounds she makes for myself. I pull back, panting. “Come for me, my bratty girl. Come for your Buainteoir .“ Layne’s pussy grips my cock, pulsing with her orgasm, pulling me deeper inside of her. “Fuck, baby.” I whimper against her lips as I spill inside her. My cock twitches inside her, giving her every drop of my cum. The sound of Layne’s rapid breaths echoes in my ears, amplifying the chaotic thumping of my heart.

After a few moments, I gently pull out and help Layne back onto her feet. Crouching down, I lift her pants and give her a meaningful glance as she slips her legs into them. My hands pull them up over her gorgeous ass. Leaning forward, I place a kiss on her lower stomach before pulling the zipper up .

“Wes, don’t get your hopes up,” Layne says, her voice filled with sadness.

I rise to my feet and push her back against the tree. “I want you to hear me, loud and clear, Layne. Regardless of what that test says, or if you start your period, I’m going to hope. I hope that at some point, this,” I slide my hand down to spread it across her womb, “happens.”

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, reflecting the sadness within. “Let’s head back to the house before my parents think we’re lost,” I suggest, fastening my pants and belt. I take Layne’s hand and guide her back toward the house.

A short walk later, we are back in the backyard, climbing up the deck steps to the sliding door. We step inside and head toward the bedroom, walking past the kitchen where my Ma is cooking.

“Layne, love, do ya want to help with getting some of the food ready for tomorrow?” As she turns around, a gasp escaped her lips. “Oh.”

“Uh, sure. I’d love that.” Layne says, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“We’re gonna hop in the shower first, Ma,” I say, pulling Layne behind me. “She’ll be right back.”

“ O, a chlann ghrinn! (Oh, you naughty kids!)“ Ma chuckles from the kitchen, making me smile as we round the corner of that hallway straight into our room. Luckily, the room my parents set us up in has its own bathroom. I close and lock the bedroom door, walking into the bathroom and starting the shower.

Layne walks in behind me, closing the door behind her. We shed our clothes and step into the shower, letting the warm water cascades over us as we stand together under the shower head. Our bodies pressed against each other. I can feel the tension and uncertainty between us.

As the water washes away the sweat and dirt from our forest escapade, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of love and desire for Layne. Despite the sadness in her voice earlier, I want her to know that I am here, and I am never leaving.

I turn to face her, my hands cupping her face gently. “Layne,” I whisper, looking into her eyes, “I know it’s not easy, and there are no guarantees. But I want you to know that I’m here, no matter what happens. We’ll face whatever comes our way together.”

Tears glisten in her eyes, mirroring the love and vulnerability of my own. She nods, her fingers intertwining with mine. The water continues to pour over us, a comforting and cleansing presence.

After we finish showering, we dry off and get dressed in comfortable clothes. As we step out of the bathroom, we find ourselves back in the kitchen, where my Ma is still busy cooking.

My Ma looks up from her cooking and smiles warmly at us. “Did ya two have a nice shower?” she asks playfully, causing Layne to blush and look away.

I chuckle and squeeze Layne’s hand reassuringly. “Yes, Ma,” I reply with a grin, “it was refreshing.”

My Ma nods knowingly, her eyes filled with maternal love. “Well, why don’t ya two help me with the food preparations?” she suggests, gesturing towards the counter filled with ingredients.

Layne’s face lights up, grateful for the distraction. “That sounds great,” she says, her voice filled with gratitude.

We spend the next hour chopping vegetables, mixing sauces, and sharing laughter in the kitchen. The familiar scents and sounds bring a sense of comfort and normalcy to our lives, even amidst the uncertainty.

We finish up, and my Ma looks at us with a proud smile. “Ya make a great team,” she says, her eyes filled with affection.

I glance at Layne, our eyes meeting in silent agreement.

It tradition in my family that we have Chinese food the night before Thanksgiving. A little tradition we started when I was a wee boy, and I went through a phase where I only ate chow mein and egg rolls. My parent’s being the amazing people they are, rolled with it and we’ve kept the tradition going for over seventeen years. Layne stares at the containers of food on the table, and laughs.

“What’s so funny, Ma Petite Mort ?“ I ask, reaching for the bag of egg rolls.

“I would’ve never thought of you as a picky eater. That’s all.” Her smile radiates warmth and love, as my Ma puts a plate piled with food in front of her.

“That boy,” My Da starts in, pointing his finger at me. “Lived off of chow mein and egg rolls for probably six months, maybe?”

“That’s all you ate?” Layne’s expression shifts from surprise to complete bewilderment as she stares at me.

“I was seven, Layne. Kids do weird shit.” As I take a bite of the egg roll, I pause, my face contorting into a frown when I realize it’s a spring roll.

“Damn, it’s a spring roll,” I say, disappointment evident in my voice. Ronan waits at my feet and I casually slide the spring roll under the table to him. Layne chuckles and reaches for another container, this time filled with chow mein.

“Well, at least we got the chow mein right,” she says, handing me a forkful. I smile and take a bite, savoring the familiar flavors that bring back memories of my childhood.

Layne looks at me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Do you still have any weird food habits, you know, that I should know about?” she asks playfully.

I laugh and shake my head. “Not anymore. Thankfully, I have outgrown it. I enjoy many things now.“ I lick my lips and she catches on that I am talking about her. An awkward laugh escapes from Layne’s lips .

“Stop making your wife uncomfortable at the table, Wessy.” My Da pipes in, reaching over a smacking me upside the head. I bring my hand up and cradle my head and laugh.

“Wessy,” Layne mouths.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I mouth back, but the look in her eyes already lets me know the nickname will come home with us.

We spend the rest of the evening playing card games, laughing about my childhood, and talking about Siobhan. We talk about how much we miss her and fill the atmosphere with laughter and bittersweet nostalgia. Layne and I find ourselves lost in a game of cards, challenging each other with playful banter and competitive spirit.

The sound of shuffling cards and our laughter echoes off the walls. The hours seem to fly by as we lose track of time, engrossed in each other’s company. Empty food containers sit strewn about the table, and when my parents say goodnight, Layne offers for us to clean up. My Ma gives us each a kiss on the cheek before heading back. Da lets Ronan out and goes out back to smoke his nightly cigarette.

Layne gives me a nod for me to follow my Da. “I’ll clean up, you go smoke.”

We both get up and before I head out back, I pull her into my arms. I place a tender kiss on her lips before letting her go. I back away toward the sliding door, never breaking eye contact with her. Layne smiles, biting her lip as she turns to the table to clear it. I step out into the chilly night air, making my way over to my Da.

“Ya found a good one, Wessy. Never let her go.” He chuckles, holding out his lighter to the cigarette I already have between my lips.

I inhale deeply, letting the smoke come out of my nose. “I don’t plan on it.”

We finish up smoking in silence, making our way back into the house. Layne’s no longer in the kitchen. My Da pats me on the shoulder as he makes his way down to his and my Ma’s room. I open the door to our room. The light is on in the bathroom, but the door is closed. I hear the rustling of a bag, so I gently knock on the door.

“ Ma Petite Mort ,“ I say, turning the doorknob. The door creaks open, and Layne is sitting on the toilet.

“You didn’t have to buy the test,” she says, her voice quivering and filled with a hint of disappointment. My gaze falls downward, and I notice that her underwear is soaked in blood.

I make my way over to her and crouch down, lifting her leg and taking the jeans and underwear off. Tears silently fall down her face as I clean her up. I try my best to comfort Layne as I clean her up, my heart aching at the sight of her tears. I softly whisper reassuring words.

“It’s okay, baby.” My lips brushing against her forehead.

“Out of everyone, why me?” she question, her eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t you know I’m broken, Wes?”

Layne’s walls are crumbling, and as much as I’ve wanted her to let me in, this is not how I wanted it to happen. My hands cup her face. “Then I’m going to spend the rest of my life putting you back together.”

Once I finish cleaning her, I help Layne stand up and guide her to the shower. I turn on the warm water, gently helping her step inside. I grab a towel and place it within reach, making sure she feels safe and supported.

As the water cascades over her, I watch her expression soften, her tears blending with the shower droplets. I stay by her side, offering a silent presence of love and devotion. Am I sad too? Sure. But all that matters right now is her feelings. The weight of the situation hangs heavy in the air, but I am determined to be her pillar of strength.

After a while, Layne steps out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. “Do you want a pad or the disc?” I ask, holding up one of each. She grabs the disc and I leave the room to grab her some fresh clothes. She comes out and sits on the edge of the bed. Once I finish dressing her, I climb onto the bed behind her and dry her hair, comb it then braid it. I carefully assist her in getting into bed then I strip off my clothes, climbing in behind her, and pull her close to my chest.

“I love you, Wes.” She says, kissing my bare chest as she tucks her head down.

“And I love you, Ma Petite Mort .” More than you will ever know.