When I was discharged Andy offered to drive me home. Every fibre of my being wanted to reject him, never see him again but I didn't have the money for a cab and he was the only one who offered. I stared out the window the whole time, not giving him the satisfaction of timidity. Instead of taking me to my dad's house he drove me to a quiet cul-de-sac and pulled up outside a small two story house that had a little front garden with a white fence around it.
"What's this?" I asked.
Andy handed me a key, "Your place."
"My place?" I breathed.
He nodded, "You were right all along. I want to take care of you."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I care about you," he replied, "And I care about our children."
I felt the anger bubbling, "You can't just buy my forgiveness. You left me when I needed you..."
"Look I know!" He cried, "Jesus fuck I reacted badly ok. There is stuff going on that you don't know about so we can't be together but god knows I need to know you are safe."
"What do you can sleep at night?" I tutted.
"No because like it or not I still love you," he shot back, "To think everything that has happened to you has been my fault kills me. I want to at least try and make this shit train right. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, fuck me I don't blame you if you hate me but..."
"Thank you," I whispered. The anger stowed away. He was trying. That's what mattered, "What is this place?"
He swallowed, "I brought it as a rental property when we first moved back. The renovations were done by me and a friend of mine."
I nodded slowly, "I can't pay..."
He shook his head, "I don't expect you to," he unclipped his seat belt, "Want to go inside?"
I smiled weakly, "Sure."
Inside was small but perfect. We walked straight into to living room which was already furnished with two red sofas and a tv in the wall with a small coffee table in the centre. Andy said all the rooms were white as he didn't know what colours I would want. The kitchen was a glossy black and already was stocked with a few bits of food as well as cutlery and red tea-towels and red mugs, bowls and plates. A small wooden dining table stood in the middle of the room. Upstairs had a small bathroom in white tile and black flooring with a plain white bathroom suite as well as two bedrooms. The first one we came to was a small one with a single crib in it with a mobile above it and a peak in the corner.
"Don't worry. I have two more cribs coming," Andy said, "You will be ready for our babies."
I smiled. He had thought of everything. He then led me next door to my bedroom. It had a standard double bed, wardrobe and chest of drawers. There were a few pair of clothes in there to start me off. The bedding was dark red, which seemed a theme in the house alone with white. I felt like crying.
"Andy it's beautiful," I breathed, "Thank you so much!"
Without even thinking, I kissed him. He didn't stop me. He curled his arms around me and pulled me close and I obliged. I didn't want this moment to end, I wanted him to hold me and kiss me like he was no for all eternity. I knew I shouldn't, I should hate him but I couldn't. I didn't forgive him but I felt so alone in this world that was starting to get more daunting. I needed someone on my team.
"Stay with me tonight," I pleaded.
He sighed, "Sam I can't..."
"Please," I begged. I felt tears prick my eyes, "I'm not asking you to because I want to be a mistress or anything, I'm asked because I'm scared of being alone."
"Sam no on can hurt you," Andy said cradling my cheeks, "They are..."
"Locked up I know," I cried, "That's what you said last time!"
I turned away from him. This was so difficult for me to handle. My feelings had to be contained within myself and I knew I was going was going to have to raise our children with very little input from him. I wanted to joke about being a kept woman, anything to lighten the mood but I couldn't. All I felt was anger and resentment towards him battling with love and a need to be held.
"I'm sorry Sam," Andy said, "Its my fault you are in this situation."
I shook my head, laughing cynically, "I do blame you. But I blame myself more for being so naive."
"Sam when I told you I loved you I meant it," Andy continued, "It wasn't just the heat of passion kind of thing."
"Please don't!" I said. I felt the tears run down my cheeks, "Please! This is hard enough to accept that I can't see you anymore."
"Sam you need to hear it!" Andy replied, "Because I love you with every fibre of my being but I can't leave Kylie right now."
"And why can't you?" I screamed, "If you claim to love me so damn much then leave her and we can live together and be happy with our children!"
"Because Julie has heart disease!" He shouted.
Feeling drained from me and I was left numb. Andy sat on the bed with his head in his hands. Julie was only twelve years old. She was in her second year at secondary school. She shouldn't have heart problems. I felt horrible. I sat next to Andy and hugged him. It was all I could think to do.
"She has a hole in her heart," Andy said quietly, "We've known about it since she was born but now it's talking its toll. She's been on the waiting list for three years now but so far nothing. Now doctors say she only has a couple of months to live."
"Andy....I'm so sorry," I whispered, "Julie is so special! It shouldn't....I'm sorry."
I held his hand and he smiled at me gratefully. I never would have guessed that Julie would have a heart defect like that. Gemma had never told me, but then again she might not even know. I knew that kind of thing could be genetic and instantly I worried for my own children.
"Does it run in the family?" I asked.
He sighed, "Unfortunately yes. My side of the family. The Woodbridge family has a history of heart problems. So yes, potentially our kids could have the same."
Then it hit me, "How long have you known about the severity?"
"If you are asking if the results came the day that you found out you were pregnant the answer is yes," he replied.
"So that's why Kylie attacked me?" I whispered.
He snorted, "More probably because she knows how I feel about you and if it wasn't for Julie I'd cut and run."
I smiled, "You're a strong man Andy. I hope you understand that. Not a lot of men would deal with what you have."
"I'm not strong," Andy whispered, "I want more than anything to curl up and cry."
"You are strong! You stayed with Kylie through all the affairs and her drinking. You helped Gemma through her depression. You were a father figure to me for most of my life and know you have to cope with the inevitability of losing you daughter," I told him, "And as for crying, if you need to do it here. This can be you space to let it all out."
He looked at me. I saw his jaw clench as he desperately tried not to cry. I laid down on the bed and held open my arms for him. Slowly he laid down on top of me, his head leaning into my breast, and I heard his sobbing. I laid there simply cuddling him and stroking the top of his head as he cried and whimpered. He hugged my body closer to him, desperate for comfort. We both were.
"It ok. Just let it all out!" I whispered, "It's gonna be ok."
I don't know how long I laid there for, but eventually he stopped crying yet remained where he was, motionless and still seeking comfort. I carried on stroking his head. He then sat up and harshly whipped his eyes. I remained laying there, his back towards me.
"I'm sorry about that," he mumbled.
"Andy it's ok to cry when you need to," I said, "Crying doesn't make you less of a man."
He stood up and faced me, "I wasn't just crying because I was losing one child. I was losing all my children."
I sat up, "What do you mean?"
"Julie is dying, Gemma hates me and I can't see our kids," He replied, "I'm a failure."
I stood up and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I was past caring whether he was married or twice my age or into DDLG or my best friends dad. I loved him for him and I hated seeing him hurt. I kissed him passionately. I poured my heart and soul into it. He picked up my legs and held me closer to him, I could feel him wanting more and more of me.
"You will always have our kids to be a father to!" I told him, "Gemma doesn't hate you she's just confused about a lot of things and Julie loves you with all her heart and I know you love her. And I love you with all my heart so you will never be alone!"
"I love you!" He murmured.
With that he kissed me and we fell back onto the bed. His hand hungrily tugged on my jumper before undoing my jeans. We broke our kiss for a moment as we yanked each other's tops off. I knew I shouldn't let this happen but I wanted this numb feeling to leave. I wanted a closeness, and understanding, that only intimacy can bring. It was as we got to our underwear and he was kissing my hip that he found something I forgot to tell him about.
"You got a tattoo," he breathed.
"Yes. I got it for you," I replied.
I had had the word Daddy tattooed in curly black writing on my left hip, in such a place that the only way you would see it is if I had no underwear on. I had got it two days before our last round of sex before Gemma had walked in and seen us.
He smiled and kissed it. His lips and tongue travelled further down my body as he peeled my underwear clean off. He then started licking my clit. His warm and wet tongue made me shiver in ecstasy as he quickly darted his tongue in and out of my pussy. I clenched the pillows as each lick made me tremble. He then stopped.
"Why did you stop?" I breathed.
"I want you to do it!" He purred, "I'm not going to fuck you until you have cum three times. Then I know you will be wet enough."
I couldn't think of a quippy reply so I just did as I was told. I stroked and tapped and pulled on my clit. Each touch making me moan louder as I began to stroke faster and faster. I came. That was one. I heard him moaning and I knew he was also self pleasuring. He pressed his cock against the opening of my pussy and I moaned as the pressure built inside me.
"You feel that baby?" He asked.
"Yes daddy," I moaned.
"That's you that is! That's you making daddy so hard!" He breathed.
"Oh daddy," I moaned, "Just fuck me please!"
"Don't be so vulgar my pet," he said.
He pushed his dick hard against my sex and the pressure built to much that I came again. I was then bored of the games. I grabbed his cock in my hand and stroked it and massaged it and he moaned in pleasure. I continued to pump his cock until he was about to come, where in I pushed my hips up to his and he slipped straight in. Making us both come.
"Three," I breathed.
"I fucking love you!" He moaned.
With that he pushed out before roughly shoving himself straight back in.