As much as I love knowing that these letters, cards, and gifts will find you some time in the future when I’m gone, I know that this has to be the last one.
So this is goodbye, my Lotta-love.
I love you
John Paul
* * *
After devouring each other in the back of Enoch’s truck, he drove Carlotta back to the shotgun house in Marigny so she could pack up her things to stay the night at his. It just made the most sense. She was leaving in the morning, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. Carlotta couldn’t even pretend that she wasn’t getting attached. She definitely was. And she knew Evelyn knew it, considering that she had done nothing but texted her since she met him. She'd already threatened to schedule an intervention if she didn’t start checking in more.
“Well, there’s the face I love and miss,” her friend announced when she answered the FaceTime call she’d demanded as proof of life.
Carlotta rolled her eyes. “I haven’t been gone that long.”
“Excuse me? You went MIA for two days. Your dog thinks he belongs to me now.”
“Aww, how’s my Maverick doing?”
Her Great Dane nudged himself into the frame at the sound of Carlotta’s voice.
“Oh my god, dog! Get off me!” Maverick boofed and nudged against Evelyn again. “You are too big for my lap!”
“Maverick, off!” Carlotta ordered.
The dog froze, tipped his head at the phone, and then sat… right on Evelyn’s lap. “My god. When are you coming home to get this overgrown baby?” Evelyn complained as she shifted Maverick over a little.
“I’m leaving in the morning.”
A bemused smile spread across her friend’s face. “You seem a little sad about that.”
“Maybe?”
Carlotta looked across the living room into the kitchen, where Enoch was making them a snack since they’d depleted all their calories in the back of his truck. He was shirtless and in nothing but his boxer briefs. She flipped the camera so Evelyn could see what she was seeing.
“Mm… my god,” her friend groaned. “On second thought, stay as long as you need.”
She laughed at Evelyn, glad that she had her earbuds in so at least one side of the conversation was private. She flipped the camera back around.
“And look at you. He must be fucking you real good because I haven’t seen you smile like that since —”
“Since John Paul. It’s okay to say it. It’s the truth.” Carlotta hugged herself and looked at Enoch again. He met her gaze with a heated one of his own, offering her a wink and a smirk before turning back to the task at hand.
“Seems like this is much more than a fling.”
“Probably,” she said, then shrugged.
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
“Do? There’s nothing to do. I’m gonna enjoy him and come home tomorrow.”
“Does he know that?”
“Of course he does. I don’t think he’s expecting anything more than that.”
She’d told herself that over and over. Tried to convince herself that the intensity was because this was the first man she’d been with since John Paul. That it was overwhelming because Enoch had known and loved him too. That it was the circumstances and nothing else. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.
Evelyn raised her brows and said, “Sure, Jan.”
“Fuck you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t this what you wanted me to do?”
“I wanted you to have a fling. Listen. I’m not judging you. I am glad you found someone to blow ya back out—”
“Ev—”
“I just don’t want you to come back worse off than you were when you left.”
Carlotta let out a wistful sigh. “I don’t think that’s possible, Ev. I can feel things again. I’m better now than I’ve been in years.”
Evelyn nodded, and a smile quirked her lips. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad.”
She was petting Maverick, and Carlotta suddenly missed him intensely. Yes, she was ready to go home. But was she prepared to leave Enoch and this tender thing growing between them?
“Well, for your sake, I hope you two are telling each other the truth. I’ll see you when you get in.”
She rang off just as Enoch made his way to her with a basket of crab cake hush puppies that he’d just made and two cold beers.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he sat next to her.
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I checked in with my bestie because I haven’t talked to her since you dragged me to your bed last night.”
“Dragged? That’s not how I remember it,” he said as he popped a hush puppy in his mouth and made himself comfortable next to her. His body was like an open invitation that she willfully accepted by crawling into the space he’d made for her between his legs, his front to her back. He plucked a hush puppy from the basket and offered it to her. She opened her mouth, and he fed it to her. While she chewed, he sipped the beer.
“So what’s waitin’ for you when you get home?”
She huffed, then reached for a second hush puppy, taking a moment to dip it in the sauce he'd made before bringing it to her mouth for a bite. “You mean besides my giant needy dog? Probably a bunch of work to catch up on.”
“Hush. I could hear how much you miss Maverick. What kind of work do you do again?”
“I’m a mental health and substance abuse social worker…though I’m wondering if that’s something I want to keep doing.”
“So you were equipped to help J.P. when he came out of rehab?”
“You could say that.” She reached for his beer, and he let her take a swig.
“What would you do otherwise?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really need to rush into that decision, though. John Paul left me very comfortable. Maybe I will take some time off from work.” She paused, knowing how the next thing she said might sound after what they’d done in the truck. “Maybe I’ll become a mom.”
She felt him draw in a sharp breath and hold it. “A mom?”
“Yeah… before he started treatment, we took the advice of that oncologist in New York and froze some embryos. So there are seven embryos waiting for me at a fertility clinic back home.”
He set the basket of hush puppies on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her. “J.P. would have loved being a father,” he whispered in her ear. “And I have a feeling you will be an excellent mother.”
“Even if I have to do it alone?”
“You won’t have to. There’s a whole community of people down here who will help you when you need it. People who love J.P. as much as you do.” He squeezed her a bit tighter. “Have the baby, Lotta. Then bring him down here. Bring him to me so I can tell him who his daddy was. The type of man he was.”
She turned into his embrace to look him in the eye. “You’d do that?”
“Carlotta…” He traced the shape of her face with the tip of his finger. “I'd be honored to do it.”
With a smile on her lips, she pressed a kiss to his mouth. His was salty, flavorful, and a bit bitter from the beer.
“I have to ask, though…” He cupped her face with his hands and pulled away to look into her eyes again. “We didn’t use anything in the truck.”
She shook her head. “We didn’t.”
“I want you to know I don’t do that with nobody.”
“Nobody but me, apparently,” she murmured with a smirk.
“Apparently,” he echoed. He smiled nervously but then pursed his lips. Deep in thought. “Is it…is it fucked up that I kinda want it to happen?”
“Maybe a little fucked up, but I understand it.” And she did understand. It was clear that he felt the same connection with her that she felt with him. It had only been two days, but she would have readily spent more with him. But going home was the right thing to do. They both needed some distance from this to attempt to make sense of it. “But I am a bit surprised. You’re so young. You think you would be ready for that?”
“To be a father? Absolutely. And I’m not that young. Thirty-six years old is not all that young.”
“I guess if it happens, we’ll decide from there.”
“Okay,” he said with a smirk.
She brushed her lips against his again. “That thing you said in the truck… can you say it again?”
Enoch made a soft sound and then took a deep breath. “I wish I could keep you,” he whispered.
“I wish you could, too.”
"And for the record, I might not be expecting more, but I would welcome it."
She smiled shyly. "Noted."
* * *
In the morning, Enoch’s kisses painted her skin, not the imagined caress of John Paul. He curled himself around her and slid inside, just as bare as he’d been last night. He whispered things to her. Soft, tender things that made her miss him even though he was still inside of her.
“Look at me, Lotta,” he whispered, cupping her chin so he could look in her in the eye. “You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be. If you call me, I’ll come to you.”
She drew in a shuttering breath. “I can’t do that to you.”
“And I can’t stand the idea of you being there alone…without him.” He hilted inside of her in one slow thrust that made her shiver. “Without me.” He kissed her and slid his hand down to play with her clit. Carlotta closed her eyes, basking in the way he stretched and filled her. Would she ever get to do this again? Would she ever be brave enough to start dating again, or was this just a brief reprieve, a little detour on the way to what she needed to truly heal? She suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of doing all of this again with another man. And if this was going to be the last time, she wanted to give him everything, take everything.
She moved away from him and rolled onto her belly.
“What are you doin’?” he asked, and she realized how much she liked to make him ask that question.
Pressing her face, chest, and shoulders to the bed, she arched her back and put her ass in the air. The cool kiss of air from the ceiling fan met the wetness between her legs. Enoch rolled onto his back and looked at her, one hand on his dick. He must’ve liked the picture she made because the hand on his dick, still wet from her, stroked until a bit of precum spilled from the tip of him. She waggled her ass invitingly, feeling absurd yet still sexy. Enoch laughed, then stroked a finger up her spine. The kiss he delivered to the small of her back came right before he slid inside her again. His thrusts were deeper, more frantic than any of the other times they’d been together. The hand on her low back forced a deeper arch, and he kept a firm grip on one asscheek, thumb skimming her ass until he finally slid it in. Carlotta buried her face in the mattress and cried her way through a sudden orgasm.
When she’d gone limp and weak from coming so hard and suddenly, he rolled her over and pushed his way inside of her again. “Cute. I especially liked the little wiggle.”
She grinned. “You did?”
“Yes, I did, but now I’m gonna fuck you face-to-face. Cause I wanna remember every expression and hear all of your moans because I don’t want to forget them. And I don’t want you to forget me.”
All the feelings she’d been trying to escape were brought right to the surface again. And when she came again, legs wrapped tight around him as he came inside of her, she knew there was absolutely no way she would ever forget Enoch Walker.
While she showered, Enoch ordered out for breakfast. She emerged, freshly scrubbed and dressed for the road, to find him leaning against the counter, in a pair of low-slung basketball shorts with a pensive look on his face.
“I got you coffee, a croissant, and a cup of fruit. I figured you’d want something light since you were getting on the road.”
“Thank you,” she said, gathering up the bag and her to-go coffee cup.
A frown creased his brow. “You won’t eat with me before you go?”
Carlotta looked down at her feet. “It’s already late. I should get going if I want to be home before nightfall.”
A long, painful silence stretched between them. She could tell he was upset that she was rushing off now, but she couldn’t help feeling like it was best if she just left. To rip off the bandaid rather than prolong both of their suffering.
“Okay,” he said, finally. “I already put your things in your car along with your tintype.”
“Thank you.” She looked up at him. “Walk me out?”
“Of course.”
She could tell he wanted to ask if they would see each other again, but he knew how she would answer, so he held back. He followed her around to the driver’s side and opened the door for her.
“You’ll call or text me to let me know you arrived, okay?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.” She turned to him. “Enoch… thank you.”
“For what?”
“For the tintype. For sharing your memories of John Paul with me.” She dipped her head and smirked. “And for helping me navigate my grief in the best way possible.”
The corner of Enoch’s mouth quirked. “All of it was my pleasure, Lotta.”
“And it was definitely mine.” Carlotta pushed up on tiptoe to kiss him goodbye. She’d wanted it to be quick but couldn’t resist the warmth of his skin and the taste of him, knowing that this would probably be the last time. With a reluctant little moan of wanting, she pulled away and climbed into the SUV. “Goodbye, Enoch.”
“See you around, Lotta,” he said stubbornly.
Kissing her one last time, he closed the door and then knocked on the roof like John Paul always did, he stepped into the middle of the street and watched her pull off. In her side mirror, she watched him watch her leave with his hands thrust into the pockets of his basketball shorts. The set of his shoulders a bit slumped. She’d hurt him. She hated that, but it couldn’t be helped. She wanted him, but she wasn’t ready for him. Maybe someday, one day, soon. But for now, she would be happy to know that a man like that existed in the world. That if she never healed enough to have him, Enoch Walker was out there and would be some lucky girl’s John Paul.