Page 102 of Just My Ex

“Are we going on a picnic?” Navie asks.

“Let’s make some sandwiches and go to Chapparal Park,” I offer. It will be the third picnic we’ve been on since I got back from Switzerland. I plan to make as many memories as I can with my girls here in Irvine before we embark on our new adventure in Colorado.

As has been happening a lot lately, I feel a nice sort of gentle pressure in my chest as I lie here on the kitchen floor with my two best girls. Like I’m bursting, overflowing with emotions. In a good way.

There’s something about love that changes a person. And Quinn’s willingness to love me, fully in the light this time, has changed me.

Or maybe it’s not that it’s changed me, but it’s helped me be okay with who I am. Okay with my past. Because it doesn’t have to define me. I’m not my PTSD. I’m not Afghanistan or Iran. I’m not the guy who walked out of this very house over a year ago because I simply couldn’t fathom knowing how not to. There weren’t any possibilities back then.

The world was blank. The future and the past? Blank.

Now?

It feels so good to feel again.

I slide a finger along Quinn’s face, tracing every plane of her soft skin, marveling that I get to be here with her.

“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage.

She doesn’t respond, just lies on her side, mirroring me, giggling at Navie’s doggy alter ego scrambling over us.

I’m in awe, amazed at the love I see shining back at me.

Epilogue

Quinn

If I can simply concentrate on the way my wedding band spins around my finger, I might be able to avoid losing my lunch in the bathroom of our new place.

I guess it’s not really new. We’ve been here in Fairhill, Colorado for over a year. But if I can just stare at the diamond eternity band as I rotate it around and around, keeping the solitaire engagement ring in place and do lots of deep breathing, maybe I can keep the nausea in check.

We’ll see. One thing I do know for sure? I can’t go look through the bathroom window and into our vast backyard of wild, sloping grasses, Gambel oak, and chokecherry trees, no matter how much I want to. Because getting up off this tile floor might be more movement than I can handle right now.

I can hear laughter and the dog’s barking on the late summer breeze back behind the house. Navie and Henry are back there in what will eventually be our corral.

Yes, we bought horse property here in Fairhill, Colorado. The horses are something that will come later, though, since our dog, Petra, a rescued German Shepherd mix, is taking up plenty of time.

Not that I mind it, although now that I know I’m most definitely pregnant, I understand why feeding Petra her dog food has been so revolting lately. That’s something Henry and Navie will have to take over doing for a while.

I’m pregnant.

I continue to deep breathe, but a smile curves my mouth at the thought. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, and now that it’s a reality, I can’t wait to share the news with Henry and Navie. She’s been asking for a new little brother or sister since right after Henry and I got re-married last summer, only a month after moving to Fairhill for good.

“Hey, Queenie. You okay?” Henry’s voice outside the bathroom startles me. I need to tell him the good news so he’s not so concerned … he’s been giving me looks for a few days now as I’ve navigated early pregnancy in secret. The problem is, I haven’t figured out how to tell him. I want it to be special.

I swallow down the nausea. “My kingdom for a bottle of water?” I ask, willing my voice to sound strong.

It doesn’t work because Henry’s voice—after a long pause—is full of apprehension. “Sure thing. Anything else? Want to just come out and lie on the couch?”

“I’ll be out in a bit,” I manage before another wave of sick has my stomach revolting against me.

I lose it—thankfully, I crawl over to the toilet in time—but before I’m done, Henry’s by my side, one arm wrapped around me to hold my hair and the other a steadying force at my waist.

“There, Queenie. Good girl. Get it all out—”

I retch again.

“—and then some!” he says, with pride and gusto, like he’s a coach and I’m his prodigy athlete.

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