35 | where we begin

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hey loves!

you should really consider following me on my Instagram (iya_fictional) for a very exciting news coming soon regarding this series.

the last chapter before the final chapter!
as always, 100 comments and it drops tomorrow.

love you <3

C A R T E R

"We could have left an hour ago if you hadn't ordered the inspection," Dawson remarks, placing himself on the seat opposite me.

One of our two female flight attendants, Jules, hands him a beer. He takes it with a wink at the pretty woman, probably imagining where in the flight would be a good place to bang her. It must be hard for my "brother" — to keep that alpha mask of his on all the time. It comes off when we are alone.

"It was Amaya's request," I inform him as I turn my head to observe the runway absently through the plane's window.

The inspection just got over and thankfully, everything on the flight is safely accounted for. I catch myself before I can worry the worst — from a crash landing to a fatal sky crash.

I have my son with me. Parker is my topmost priority right now.

My phone vibrates on the table built between our two seats. The caller ID reads Grandpa and Dawson narrows his gaze at me, silently asking me if I am going to pick up.

I sigh, dragging myself to the edge of my seat as I receive the call.

"Hi, Pa," I greet my old man.

"What the fuck did you do boy?" he booms through the phone, causing me to cringe. "You sued Molly?"

"She broke into my house, sexually assaulted me, and tried to murder Amaya."

Grandpa goes quiet. Absolutely quiet.

"Oh..." he draws a breath after a while, his voice significantly lower than it was before. "Don't worry. I'll make sure that woman spends a lot of time behind bars."

There he goes with his protective instincts. It doesn't take much to change his mind when it comes to my protection. I have to admit that being with Grandpa made these past five years tolerable. He is like my shadow, other than Dawson and I don't think I deserve so much care from either of them just because I am his heir.

And Parker is mine.

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"Wait a minute...did you say Amaya? As in Amaya Sommers?" Grandpa exclaims suddenly.

Panicked, I meet Dawson's eyes. He is smirking at me, clearly amused by the difficult situation he can make out I am in.

"Hmm...yeah...she kinda worked for the company you sent me to look over."

"Fuck...what have you done, Carter? Don't tell me you're bringing that woman with you. How many times do I have to tell you? She doesn't belong with us."

I wish she had come with me so that Grandpa could see how much Amaya means to me. His stereotypes blind him so much that he ends up forgetting at times that I was a living pariah too once. Amaya and I are from the same background.

"She belongs with me," I deadpan over the call. "And the next time you speak that way about my son's mother, you and I'll have some serious issues."

"What nonsense are you blabbing—"

Before he can proceed any further with his complaints, I hang up the call.

Grandpa must be confused but at least he will be prepared for the surprise I am bringing to him in the form of his great-grandson.

"Pilot's ready," Dawson says, chugging down his drink. "Where's Parker?"

"He's in the bedroom. Clarissa is babysitting him." I rise from my seat, feeling my body heavier than it had been before. I am still reeling from the aftershocks of leaving Amaya behind. I don't wish to leave at all. "I'm gonna get him."

I walk to the closed door of the built-in luxury room on the seven-seater plane and push it open. Inside, I spot my son sitting in the king-sized bed and playing with a toy laptop. The entire room is like a five-star hotel room with an attached bathroom and other facilities. I never even knew that private planes had bedrooms before I met grandpa.

I sometimes hate how much my lifestyle has changed.

I used to be the guy who fought in street fights to keep my father's treatment going. If he hadn't been so adamant about not seeing his father ever again, he would have survived with better treatment.

I nod at Clarrissa, my other flight attendant, gesturing for her to leave. She quietly heads out while I step in behind my little boy.

He is so small. His baby smell constantly lingers around me.

Amaya and I discussed whether he should have his father's name. I was amused when she agreed without protest as if she had been expecting it. Even though knowing that my son will carry my name someday makes me proud but that itch remains when I recall that his Mom wouldn't be doing the same.

I am a possessive man. Too possessive at times. It is perhaps better for her to stay away from me.

"Hey...honey..." I rest my elbows around Parker as I lean over him. "What are you doing?"

"There are so many toys, Dad," he says. "I'm testing them."

I ordered my assistants to buy every kind of toy available in the LA market for Parker. I don't know what he likes yet except for various sizes of guitars. I didn't want him to feel bored during his trip.

"You're testing them? For what?"

"I want to see which ones I like more. I'll be keeping those."

"What about the rest?"

Parker tilts his head backward to look at me. "The rest we can give to poor kids, Dad. Mommy always does that. She says the poor kids have nothing to play with."

My heart fills with pride at his words. I am glad he skipped the Bell family's selfish genes and got his mother's kinder ones.

Smiling, I press my lips to his forehead to give him a swift kiss.

"We can do that too, buddy," I say.

"Promise, Dad?"

"Promise."

"Dad..." He twists around, standing up on the bed to face me. I am hunched down on my elbows so we are almost at eye level with him towering an inch over me. "Will you stay with Mommy and me now as other Dads do?"

My smile falls at his innocence. He is blinking with pouted lips. I feel my chest tighten as I ponder over his question.

"Umm...no, hon," I reply, a little hesitantly.

"But why? All my friends' dads stay with them. I want to live with my Mommy and Dad too."

"I'm sorry, Parker." I pull myself up from the bed to stand tall. "I can't answer that question, bud. You gotta ask your Mommy."

His expression falls. He looks at the bed with his lips upturned. Guilt washes through me as he chews on his bottom lip, small hands twisting the hem of his shirt.

"It's okay, Dad," he says after seconds pass. "Mommy says we should always be grateful for what we have. I'm happy that I have a Dad."

The more he speaks, I start to realize that my kid is more mature than I expected him to be and it hurts. It has only been four years of his life that I miss but sometimes, it feels like I have lost the most crucial age.

"C'mon...let's get you to your seat."

I pick him up in my arms. He hugs me like he always does as I step out of the room. Dawson and my flight attendants are already on their seats as I place Parker on the seat beside me. I fix his seatbelt before placing myself on my own seat.

Although not required, I have instructed everyone on the plane to turn on their airplane modes on their phones before the plane starts because I don't want to risk Parker's safety at all. We have Wifi in the jet so if it is an emergency, texts can always be sent.

"Ready, bud?" I ask Parker as the plane starts to roll through the tarmac.

"Always, Dad."

He gives me a toothy smile as we shoot for the sky within seconds.

Once we are settled, the pilot gives the green signal to open our seatbelts. I help Parker with his and then Clarissa takes him back to the room where he can play for the rest of the journey.

Still unsettled by Parker's question about us living together, I pull out my phone, thinking of shooting an update to Amaya. There are new texts from someone over the Wi-fi and once I unlock the screen, what I read makes me stare at the screen in disbelief.

Amaya:

Please don't go

Wait for me

Carter...please...

I can't reach you...

Call me

Carter

Don't go

Take me with you

Please...Carter

"Fuck!" I curse out loud, making Jules and Dawson snap their heads at me. "Head back to LA. Immediately."

***

Meet me on the runway

I keep reading my own text to Amaya as the pilot, after fifteen minutes of changing routes, touches the plane down on the private runway. I glance out of the window as the wheels of the flight touch the tarmac. My eyes frantically search for her.

I hear the sound of my heartbeats pounding in my ears. The blood in my body has rushed to my head making me feel dizzy. The more minutes pass, the more anxious I become.

What happened? Why did she text me all that?

The tone of her message has filled me with a rush of hope. I cannot see anything beyond that hope. She was supposed to be married to Jeremy by now. Then why did she ask me to take her with me?

"Stop the bloody thing!" I slam my knuckles on the window, making Jules wince.

Soon enough, the pilot stops the jet and I fling my seatbelt open. My son looks scared as he watches me jump out of my seat. Clarrissa brought him back to his seat as soon as she heard my crazy order to the pilot.

"Uncle Dawson, where's Dad going?" Parker questions as I skid toward the exit.

"I don't know, buddy," Dawson answers. "Here, let me help you with this."

The jet opens for me, and I step onto the landing steps, climbing down briskly. The moment my feet touch the ground, I hear her.

"Carter!"

I turn to my right, immediately recognizing her small form at a good distance from me. She is in a white dress — not a gown. Just a white dress.

I swallow a gulp, wanting to kick myself internally for thinking something else.

She is in a white dress. She is married.

That is the first thought that crosses my mind and makes me freeze in place. But then I find her running towards me.

I blink, watching as she runs with all her might. The tarmac is blazing hot with the heat of the sun in the afternoon. We have like thirty feet between us when I spot her bare feet. She doesn't have any shoes on but that doesn't stop her from running as fast as she can. Behind her, I see Jeremy McGraw who is walking at his own pace.

With every step she erases between us, that flicker of hope in my chest rises like a doused flame relighted to burn forever.

Almost involuntarily, I throw my arms open for her and she jumps into them right away.

Our bodies collide, a mess of panting breaths and uncontrollable heartbeats. Her face is buried within the crook of my neck, her arms are around me so tight as she puts all her weight on me. She is in my arms and I don't wish to put her down. I don't wish for her feet to get burned by the heat of the tarmac. I grasp her tight, needing to breathe her scent — the sweet vanilla mist and sandalwood she always has on her.

We are tangled together, our eyes closed as the world loses itself somewhere where we don't go.

I don't know how long we stay like that but slowly, her arms loosen around me as she lifts her head from my shoulder to meet my eyes. Our gazes lock together as I take in her flushed face, the haphazard strands of hair that have escaped her bun, and the redness that covers her neck. There are scattered goosebumps all over her skin and yet she is burning for some reason. Or maybe it is just my touch on her that feels that way.

"You...came back..." she breathes, cupping my face between her hands. "...you came back."

"For you," I say. "I'll always show up when you call, snippy."

She is crying, her breaths leaving in hiccups as her hands caress my cheeks.

"I'm sorry...I...was stupid," she utters breathlessly. "I'm in love...with you...Carter Bell. I could...never stop."

"Snippy..."

"No...listen to me!" She grabs the lapels of my jacket in both her hands, pulling me to her. "I'm crazy in love with you, Carter. I...I thought I could...deny myself that but I can't...You're the one. You were always the one. I...I couldn't marry anyone else. I could never."

I am at a loss for words. She has me mesmerized. I can only observe the movement of her lips, memorizing the shape they form as she speaks each word. This very moment feels like a lovely dream.

Did I fall asleep on the plane? Is she real? Am I dead?

My fingers move into her hair, grazing her lovingly, gently touching her. Her form doesn't change shape at all. If it was a dream, I should have been able to mold her in any shape but no, she feels very real. I can feel her existence at the very tips of my fingers.

"Snippy..." I whisper. "Baby..."

"I love you, Carter..."

"Shh..." My thumb brushes over her quivering bottom lip. "Don't tell me. Show me."

With that, our lips crash together. It is a terrifyingly wanting kiss and she shows me that she loves me exactly how I wish her to. Her hands move into my hair, grabbing the short strands in tight fists, and my hands round her waist, pressing her to me.

She tastes of heaven in my arms — the kind of taste that I have craved like a wanderer searching for water in a desert. Our tongues tangled as our intermingled breaths fill the gaps between our faces. I touch her needily, so tight that it surprises me to find her still breathing. I am afraid I might accidentally crush her.

I don't have time to ask her what made her change her mind. I don't want to. I am just happy that she is here. She came to me on her own. She loves me still.

"Uncle Dawson..." we hear Parker ask from behind me. "Why is Dad kissing Mommy?"

"Because Dad loves Mommy, bud," Dawson replies.

"Oh...You love Mommy too. Will you kiss her like that too?"

Dawson grows silent while Amaya chuckles as teardrops cascade paths down her cheeks. She parts from me slowly. Our foreheads are pressed together as we keep holding on to each other like we would drown if we don't.

"Marry me, Carter Bell," she says. "I don't need a big celebration. I just need you. Marry me today and make me your wife."

I rub the tears from her cheeks away. I am so completely enthralled by her that I just know that I am never letting this woman slip away from me again. I am keeping her forever, until death parts us.

"Yes, baby. You'll be my wife. Right here. Right now."


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