Page 101 of Finding the Pieces

His fingers tighten, pulling me up and toward him as he sinks in again, starting a relentless rhythm.

His hips grind down as mine roll and rock against his pelvis, desperate for him to be closer, as close as he can be. My hands frantically search along his skin for somewhere to hold on. I settle with one on his back and the other on his shoulder.

“Fuck, Ellie,” Dom groans, before kissing me, his tongue dancing with mine.

“God, don’t stop,” I beg, before pulling his bottom lip between my teeth.

He doesn’t. Every muscle in my body is tight, every nerve on fire as our bodies burn hot together. Everything is building and I’m helpless to stop it. I fall over the edge, moaning Dom’s name.

His lips find my nipple, sucking and biting as he continues to thrust into me, our bodies slick with sweat.

“I want another one,” he demands.

“I don’t know if I can,” I say, even though I’m nodding.

“You can.” His mouth doesn’t stop working my nipple, while he rolls his hips into mine with perfect pressure. I scream at the intensity of my second orgasm.

Dom’s hips stutter. “Shit, Ellie. Just like that. Fuck, baby, look at you.” He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he fills me.

We lie in the afterglow for a while, him pulling me into his side and tossing a blanket over us so we can catch our breath.

“I want to show you something,” he says, before standing and pulling on his joggers. He helps me stand and wraps me in the blanket before taking my hand.

“Come here,” he says, leading me from the couch and into our dining room. He stops in front of the far end of the table, his focus on the puzzle he made me. He takes a box from the cabinet and hands it to me.

“The last ones?” I ask, and he nods.

My heart is suddenly racing, nerves firing with awareness as my throat tightens. I don’t fully understand why this has me emotional; my brain can only quickly rationalize that we’ve gone through so much and fought so hard to make it this far together. Far from perfect, but stronger everyday.

I place the final dozen or so pieces into the last corner of the puzzle. None of them have any writing on them. We’re finally done. Dom takes my hand, squeezing it once before sandwiching the puzzle between two poster boards and flipping the entire thing over, finally letting me see the picture on the other side.

“Do you finally see what I see?” he asks. “My wife is so fucking beautiful.”

My trembling fingers find my lips as I gaze in shock at the photo of me, laughing and smiling as big as I’ve ever seen. My hair’s a mess, and I’m not wearing any makeup, but I…love it. I look like joy personified.

“When did you take this?” I ask, voice unsteady.

“I took it about a week after Luca was born. We had only been home for a few days. It was about three thirty in the morning and we were delirious. I remember trying to take all these photos in the first few days—I probably have a hundred from the first twenty-four hours of his life—but I found this one later on mixed in with all the other candid shots I grabbed during that time. I honestly don’t remember what was happening, I only know the time from the tag on my phone. When I saw this photo, we were in the shit storm of the newborn phase and I thought…there she is. She’s still there.

“You wereneverbroken, Ellie. You wereneverlost. You were just rearranging the pieces of you that make you whole. The pieces that make you who you are. You’ve always been beautiful, put together or not. Besides, I like you a little messy. I like our life when it’s a little messy. No matter what, I love you every way imaginable.”

Epilogue

Ellie

Dom chases after Luca as he makes his way to the playground. We agreed beforehand that Dom would take the first shift while I drink my coffee, then I’m up.

“Isabel, right?” I ask as I join the woman seated on the park bench. You might not remember me. We met here, gosh, almost a year ago. I’m…”

“Ellie, of course! Good to see you again,” Isabel says, scooting over to make room for me and draping her arm along the back of the bench to face me. “How are you?”

“Better. Thanks to you in part. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out. It’s been…a year. But things are going well, and I finally started working with the woman you recommended.”

“She’s fucking amazing. Oh, I’m so glad,” she says, waving off my concern, genuine excitement clear in her expression.

I’m kicking myself for not having reached out to Isabel to get to know her better. It’d be nice to have more mom friends, and clearly, she gets how crazy it can be and doesn’t begrudge me for it.

“She really is. I’m finally starting to feel…like myself again.”

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