Page 88 of Stolen Kisses

“C’mon, Peaches. Relax.” He kisses the back of my hand, his lips leaving an indelible mark on my skin and my heart. Theo’s managed to wedge up the mattress and has arranged the bed pillows so I can sleep almost sitting up. I position my mastectomy pillows under my armpits and lay against the bed pillows carefully, trying to keep space between Theo’s body and mine. “Youokay?”

I turn my head on my pillow, facing him. “I think so. Thank you again for looking after me.” He rolls onto his back, takes my hand in his, and turns out the light.

“Any time. Get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

* * *

I wake to sunlight streaming across my face and the desperate need to pee. Looking across to the pillow next to mine, my heart sinks to find the space empty. I guess he left once he realized I didn’t actually need him during the night. I know I made a big deal about him being in my bed and not wanting the boys to find him here, but I’m still disappointed he left. I get up and sort myself out, emptying my drains and recording the measurements, then dress for the day. Making my way down the hallway to the boys’ bedroom, I find it empty—I can’t believe they’re up and they let me sleep.

My foot barely touchesthe floor at the bottom of the stairs when Austin comes out from the kitchen. “Mommy.” He wraps his little arms around me, burying his head in my tummy.

Gliding my fingers through his silky hair, I bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Morning, Buddy.”

He looks up at me, a sparkle in his eyes. The smell of bacon reaches my nose as Austin’s words reach my ears. “Theo’s making us breakfast.” Grabbing my hand, he pulls me toward the kitchen and I’m grateful that I decided to dress. At least I look somewhat put together after my emotional breakdown last night.

Theo must have gone home to change because he’s wearing jeans that hug his muscular thighs and a navy long-sleeve Henley which complements his eyes. “Morning, Peaches. I’m making breakfast.”

“Morning. I can see that.” I move around the table to Lachlan and Kenny to say good morning, kissing the top of each of their heads. “How did you sleep, Lachlan?” Sarah said he’d been having trouble this week while I was away. I expected as much despite Sarah knowing the routine. Lachlan would have had a hard time coping with the changes even though he understood why they had to happen.

“Good, Mommy. I like sleeping in the fort with Kenny and Austin.” My eyebrows almost shoot to my hairline in surprise. I knew he’d slept pretty well the night we camped in Theo’s backyard. I assumed it was because we were all snuggled in tight in the tent; maybe there’s something to him co-sleeping that helps him to settle better.

Digging into the delicious breakfast, I watch my boys interact with Kenny and Theo as though they’re already a part of our family. Theo makes our plans for the day and I’m happy enough to let him take the lead.

He and Kenny spend the weekend with us as though it’s the way we spend all of our weekends and I find I’m in no hurry for Monday to arrive.

–seventeen–

–theo–

We’ve basically spent the weekliving together. I get breakfast, Em makes the school lunches, and we drive the kids to and from school together. I work in my workshop while she reads, naps, and potters around her house. We have our morning coffee and lunch together on her back porch, then I head back to my workshop until it’s time to pick up the kids from school. It’s given me a glimpse into our possible future together as a family and I like it.

I like it alot.

It’s felt real and right and easy.

Even though I’m still sleeping in her bed, I haven’t pushed for anything more than what she’ll allow me and I don’t want to at this stage. Ineedher to come to me. To show me she’s ready to let me back in. That she trusts me with her heart. But I get the sense it’s more than trusting me with her heart, she needs to trust me with her body, too. She’s also still very sore as Ipresumeshe will be for quite some time to come.

I remember overhearing her argument with her ex. She said something about him not beinginterested in heronce her body changed after having the boys. I hope she got my message loud and clear that I’m not going to lose interest in her or her body any time soon. When she let me help her in the showerthefirstnightshecamehome from the hospital I couldn’t stop my body from reacting to hers even though she was clearly bruised, swollen, and sore—both physically and emotionally. I don’t understand any man who doesn’t appreciate the miracle of their wife’s body—that they can grow and nourish a human life inside of theirs.Sowhat if her body changes—itshouldchange.Sheis fundamentally different as a result of carrying a child andthatshould be reflected, appreciated, and adored.

Sitting in the passenger seat of my truck on the way to her follow-up appointment with her breast cancer surgeon, her fingers are white as she squeezes her hands tightly together. Reaching across, I gently squeeze her thigh to gain her attention.

“You want me to come in with you?”I desperately want her to say yes. I want her to trust me enough to be there to support her whenhedelivers whatever newshe has todeliver today. “Are you nervous about getting your pathology results?”

Her head snaps around to face me. “Why would you want to come in with me?What if the news from the pathology isn’t so good? What if he tells me they didn’t get it all? What if I have to go through radiation? Do you really want to sit in there with me while I learn my fate?” All of her questions come tumbling out, one after another.

I can understand her doubts. Afterall, Ididn’t support my sister through her battle. I know I’m an asshole for that and even though my sister said she forgaveme;I’llneverforgive myself. I don’t deserve forgiveness for my selfish and unforgivable actions. For letting my sister, father, and niece down in such an epic way.

I can’t go back in time to make differentchoices;I can only make different choicesnow.

Better choices.

Therightchoices.

My answer to her question is simple. “Yes, I do. I want to be with you every single step of the way throughout this process. I want to support you wherever I can.”

She turns away, facing the passenger window, and my stomach sinks.The heavysilence that descends on us is stifling. We remain that way until we arrive at the surgery. Heading inside, Em tells the receptionist she’s here for her appointment and we sit in the serviceable waiting room in silence—as though we’re strangers. I don’t like it, I refuse to allow it, so I take her hand between both of mine, pulling it across to rest on my thigh.

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