Page 98 of Sex. Love. Marriage.
“What?” I ask, unease creeping over me.
“I’m trying to imagine what the future looks like.”
I roll to the side, staring at the ceiling. “What do you mean?”
She draws in a breath, the kind you take when you’re waiting to let someone down. My heart pounds, waiting for her to tell me it’s over. “This is a start, Noah, but it doesn’t change the fact that we lost a daughter, added another one, and in all that time, we grew apart. There’s times when I look at you, and I don’t know who you are. I remember the boy I fell in love with, but he’s only a fraction of who you are now.” Sadness fills her voice. I want to comfort her and tell her everything will be okay, but I don’t know that, and I’ve never been one to bullshit anyone other than myself.
Sliding my hand across the sheets, I reach for hers and then pull her onto my chest. “We’ll get through this, Kel. We always do. It might take us twenty years, but together we’ll find a new normal.”
And that’s all we can do. We aren’t those same people who fucked in a car at a Pearl Jam concert. We aren’t even the same ones we were the day we said our vows, and we certainly aren’t those same people we were the day the doctors said, “There’s nothing more we can do.”
We’re these people, lying in bed staring at the ceiling wondering if the foundation we’ve built is strong enough to keep it going. You go through life and you experience the worst, but the real meaning behind all of it is how you come out the other side. That’s the true test.
(If I never hear “Baby Shark” again, it’ll be too soon.)
LEAVING TEXAS AGAINisn’t easy, but I cry a lot less than I did the first time when I had to not only say goodbye to our family, I had to come to terms with leaving Mara behind. I knew she wasn’t technically there. I was only leaving behind a body that no longer had our little girl in it, but I couldn’t just go to her grave and say hello to her.
I think that’s why I turned to Journal so often. It was easier to write in Journal rather than talk to Noah about how I was feeling and the sadness I couldn’t shake. He wasn’t entirely to blame for our problems. We created them together.
This time leaving Texas, I don’t think about pouring myself into Journal and writing down everything I’m going to miss. This time I think about the life we’ve been creating in California and how we can make it better. Grace told me that when she and Ren lost his mother just a few short months after they were married, it destroyed their family because his mother was the backbone of their unit. Kind of like Grace. So when she died suddenly, no one knew what to do when it came time for the holidays. They had to make new memories, new traditions, ones that included her memory, but something everyone could look forward to.
For the sake of our family, we’ve had to make new memories and create new traditions with the kids. This last Christmas was a disaster. I spent the entire day in bed and refused to participate in anything. If it hadn’t been for Grace, my kids wouldn’t have had any good come from the day.
I won’t let that happen again.
IF YOU EVERwant to test a marriage, go through losing a child.
Or, a road trip with four kids under ten. It’s sure to set anyone off.
If you ever want to test a man on a road trip, or at the very least his self-control, shave your legs and wear shorts. His hands will almost always wander to your legs at some point from either temptation or boredom. For Noah, it’s both.
“This is torture.” He groans, unable to keep his hands off my bare thighs I’ve strategically positioned next to the center console within his reach.
Innocently chewing on my bottom lip, I look over at him. “What is?”
“You. This.”
I laugh. “Oh, stop. We did it before we left.”
He rolls his head toward me. He’s giving methe look. The one he gives when he wants to say what the fuck. “That was eight hours ago.”
“Try two.”
He shakes his head, grinning, watching me take a drink from my water bottle. “In guy sex time, that’s eight.”
Giggling, I move my thigh away from him, his hand falling away. “Well then, stop touching me. You’re only making it worse for yourself.”
He’s making it worse for both of us because that desperation in his touch, the playfulness in his eyes, I want him just as bad. There’s something sexy when two people are finally opening up to each other that makes it that much more enjoyable. Since the other night at the wedding that didn’t happen, we’ve had sex six times in two days. That’s more than in the last month combined.
You might be wondering what happened with the whole Kelsey-and-Justice situation. Well, I wouldn’t say they’re together, but they’re notnottogether, if that makes sense. They have a lot to work through.
Looking over my shoulder into the back seat, I check on the kids. Since it’s a little past midnight, they’re all sleeping. We left in the middle of the night because Noah wanted them sleeping. I can’t say I blame him on that one after the trip over here.
It crosses my mind that maybe I could give Noah a blow job and that might tide him over for a while, but I’m not going to. That just screams CPS in my mind, and with our luck, Noah would wreck the car. I can just imagine those headlines.When blow jobs go bad. Husband crashes with family in car.
Nope. Not happening.
Twenty minutes later, Noah’s hand returns and he gives my thigh a squeeze. “My parents are coming to visit next month for Christmas.”
