Page 36 of Chasing Fireflies

“Sometimes it’s hard being Sara’s husband,” I say more so to myself, but Drew hears me.

“Do you love her?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no one said love was going to be easy, but no one tells you how damn hard it can be, either. How bad it can get at times, with bills and the loads of stress everyday life can throw at you. Unfortunately, none of us are given a handbook when we place those rings on each other’s fingers, but son, if you love her, then that’s all you need. You hold on to that love. You remember when she is at her worst what you love about her at her best. When she is upset, you remember how much you love her smile, so you can make her show it again. At your lowest moments, you remember your highest. Know that as long as you keep that love alive, you’ll always have better days. We will never be here again. This moment will pass and one day be a distant memory, and so will every other moment in your life. So you have to decide—am I going to make this a good memory, or am I going to let this little bump in the road be a time I look back on and not smile?”

“Chief, I believe you could be a therapist, but I’m either going to puke in your car or on this old road,” I say, grabbing onto the door handle. Drew slams on the brakes, and I open the door. I heave it all out and continue to do so almost all the way home.

*

I thank the chief, and now that I’ve gotten it all out of me, I can walk better as I make my way inside the house.

“Cash?” I hear from the couch. Sara stands up, and I sigh.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she says, walking over to me. I see tears in her eyes, but I stop her.

“Unless you want puke on you, let’s hold off on the hugging.”

“You threw up?” she asks, concerned.

“That’s what happens when you down a whole bottle of whiskey. I need a shower, and then I wanna sleep this off. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m just glad you’re home.”

“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

Chapter Eleven

Sara

The sound of birds singing outside my window wakes me, and I stretch and roll over. Cash is lying on his stomach with an open palm facing my way. I softly grab his fingers, and he feels it. His eyes open, and he winces at the sunlight coming in through the window.

“I’ll close the curtains,” I say. He shuts his eyes and nods. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rolls over and the sheet falls below his waist, revealing my husband’s beautiful body. Getting up, I slide the curtains closed before I sit back down on the bed.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he says. His voice is groggy, and I’m sure he feels like shit.

“Me, too. Don’t worry about it, okay? I know it can all be too much sometimes.”

“I shouldn’t have acted that way, though.”

“Cash, if you didn’t go a little crazy yourself every once in a while, then I’d think you were a saint.”

He chuckles. “I’m no saint, baby.”

“You’re pretty damn close.” I lean down and kiss his hair. “Water? Headache meds?”

“Please,” he says. I nod and slip off of the bed, but he grabs my hand and I turn around to face him. “I love you,” he tells me.

“I’ll love you crazy.”

He smiles. “Maybe you do.”

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