Page 75 of Dream with Me

Without warning, a tear falls from one of Troy’s eyes and trickles down his cheek. He buries his face in my neck, and we hold each other. An occasional drop of moisture lands on my skin as it rolls off his jaw. After a moment, he moves his mouth closer to my ear.

“I love you more than I know how to express to you. I always have, and I always will.”

CHAPTER39

SHANNON

When the blindfold comes off, I’m stunned by what I see. Troy and I are standing in an old industrial-style building, an earthy smell in the air. The room we’re in houses shelves of pottery and several stations set up with pottery wheels. The pottery pieces sitting on the shelves are in various stages of completion. There are some finished and absolutely stunning pieces, including some gorgeous mugs. Memories of our honeymoon pottery class move to the forefront of my mind.

Troy wraps his strong arms around my waist and draws me close to him, my back against his front. He says nothing yet, giving me time to take it all in.

“Are we here to buy a new mug?”

“Nope, not in the traditional sense.” His mouth is close to my ear when he speaks, and a shiver runs through me.

“Explain, please.” My voice is hushed, and I continue to look around the room, taking it all in.

“We’re here to make new mugs together. We’ll keep the old one that’s left, but these will represent new beginnings. Fresh starts.”

I twist my body until I’m facing him and look up at him. My eyes are moist, tears ready to fall. Not in a sad way. No, I’m immensely touched by the gesture and overcome with emotion.

“Thank you.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his lips, lingering. A faint groan emanates from him, and I chuckle.

He pulls back. “What? Dr. Linden’s ‘no sex until you’ve done the emotional work’ rule is killing me. You don’t have any idea how difficult it is not to take it further when I love you so much, and you’re so gorgeous.”

I catch myself about to roll my eyes but stop. “Well, those couch make-out sessions after the kids are asleep don’t help with that any. Do you think we should stop them?” The teasing tone in my voice is obvious.

He cups my face with one hand and brushes his thumb along my temple area, achingly slow and intimate. “Chiclet, if we stop them, I might die.”

I laugh out loud. “That’s a little bit dramatic, isn’t it?” I smile at him.

The sound of a throat clearing draws our attention, and I pull away from Troy and then turn around to see a middle-aged female with beautiful laugh lines on the sides of her eyes and her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail. She’s wearing well-worn clothes and an apron.

“I take it you’re here for the class today?” The woman smiles warmly.

“We are,” Troy says.

“Perfect. I’m Grace, and I’ll be the instructor for your lessons. Let’s get you two set up at the station. Follow me, and I’m guessing since there are two of you, you’re the Willsons. Is that correct?”

I smile, then look over at Troy. “That we most definitely are. I’m Shannon, and this is my husband, Troy.”

“Lovely to meet you both.”

While we follow her to our assigned station, it strikes me how close we came to not being the Willsons anymore. I’m slightly nauseated at the thought.

When we sit down at the pottery wheel, Troy tells me he has scheduled us for three classes—enough to make us a new set of mugs. When we did our first classes all those years ago, we had separate pottery wheels, and we each made one mug, but it’s different this time.

“I had the option to have us each do it separately or do what’s called ‘couples wheel throwing,’ and I opted for that. I want this to be something we make together as a united effort. Every time we drink out of these mugs for the rest of our lives, I’ll always remember that they were made after we survived the hardest time of my life and that they were made together.”

I stare at Troy, unable to speak. I’ve always known he loves me, but his efforts to communicate more are obvious. It touches my heart that this man is working so hard to come out of his comfort zone so we stay healthy.

“That’s a beautiful idea. I love it, and I love you.”

As the class gets underway, there are only three students besides Troy and me. They’re all here by themselves, two women and one man. I catch all of them watching us intermittently over the next couple of hours as Troy and I work our wheel together.

There are moments when our hands are on the wheel at the same time that I swear I’ve never felt something so intimate. Both emotionally and physically. My frustration is at an all-time high with Dr. Linden’s strong suggestion that we shouldn’t have sex right now. I get her rationale, but it’s killing me.

By the end of the class, I’m relaxed, turned on because my husband can somehow make anything sexy, and I’m at peace. Troy cleans up the area around our station, and I take our tools to the sink to clean them. A woman joins me at the sink, and as we’re rinsing our tools, I can sense that maybe she wants to say something to me.

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