Page 19 of When You're Gone
Chapter six
Tori
Shewokewithastart, disoriented from such a deep, restful sleep. Her hand found Rhett’s resting on her lower abdomen, right along the scar from her hysterectomy. That was home base for both of them. When his hand was resting along her scar, when he was holding her in his arms, that’s when she felt whole. She glanced over to find him still sleeping, his breath slow and even despite the fact that the clock next to her bed said 9:45 am.
She didn’t want to wake him, but she desperately needed to pee. She peeled his hand off her stomach and made her way out to the bathroom in the hallway. As soon as she opened the door, she was met with the smells of coffee, syrup, and bacon.
When she got back to her room, she grabbed her phone and sent off a quick text to let her dad know Rhett was here, too, but they wouldn’t be down for a bit. Her dad never replied to her messages, but he read them, and the one-way communication was better than surprising him when they walked downstairs together. They were married, but she still felt a little funny about the boy she’d been sneaking in and out of her room for the last ten years being allowed to sleep over whenever he wanted now.
Before crawling back into bed, she pulled off the sheer lace bra from last night. She glanced down at her chest, at the scars from her mastectomy and the red, angry marks from where the fabric must have dug into her skin while she was sleeping. She hadn’t even remembered she was wearing a bra when she fell asleep; it was easy to forget when she couldn’t actually feel it.
She was resigned to the fact that it would be months until she’d start to regain feeling in her chest that wasn’t pain. But that fact still pissed her off. It didn’t seem fair that after enduring an egg retrieval, a hysterectomy, and a mastectomy, it still wasn’t over.
She just wanted to be done. She had always known opting for risk-reducing surgeries would be a turbulent journey. But she never expected to feel so unsure—so hollow—after the hard part was supposedly over. The entire process was a lot like grief. No one ever talks about what happens a few weeks later, when everything feels different, but everyone else just keeps moving forward like nothing has changed.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
She turned over and smiled at her drowsy, rumpled husband. He looked adorable in the mornings, especially when he actually slept well.
“Hi, sleepy head.”
His brows pulled together in question.
“It’s almost ten,” she informed him.
“Damn.” He yawned. “I can’t believe I slept that long.” She could already see his wheels turning as he mentally rearranged whatever he had planned for the morning.
“Hey, relax. You’re good. I’m happy you actually got a good night’s sleep. Let’s just lie here and enjoy a slow morning, okay?”
He inhaled slowly, and she watched as he held the breath to center himself before responding. “Well, itisyour birthday weekend, so I guess I can agree to that.”
She rolled onto her side and backed up against him so they could spoon. His hard length lined up perfectly with her ass, prompting her to playfully push her hips back into his groin.
“Last night…” she started as she rocked her hips back against him again.
“Last. Night,” he groaned, drawing out the second word as his hand grazed up and down her bare back. “Last night was incredible, V.”
“Agreed. Why haven’t we tried that before?” she demanded. She captured his hand in her own, then raised his knuckles to her mouth and peppered him with kisses.
“Honestly? I’d never thought about it. But that was insanely hot. And we will definitely be doing that again.”
“You know what it reminded me of?” she asked as she released his hand.
“Hmm?”
“When you got walkie talkies for your birthday, and we discovered we could still hear each other from our bedrooms.”
Rhett barked out a laugh, then ruffled her hair. “Did you really just compare our private livestream sex show to that time we had walkie talkies when we were, like, eight years old?”
“Yep.” She peered over her shoulder to smile at him. “Jake was so pissed that you gave me the second walkie talkie instead of him.”
“Oh God,” Rhett recalled. “I totally forgot about that. He couldn’t get it through his thick skull that it wouldn’t have worked from his house anyway.”
“Wait… are you telling me I got the second walkie talkie by default?”
“No, beautiful,” he replied as he brushed her hair to the side and kissed her shoulder blade. “You’re the only one I ever want to share my walkie talkies—and my FaceTimes—with. You know it’s always been you.”
“Love you,” she murmured as he continued to kiss up and down her neck.
