Page 160 of Becoming Us
My eyelids fluttered closed once.
Twice.
At least I’ll finally get some rest.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
AFTER
There was something about a hotel bed. The almost-too-soft mattress. The crisp white sheets. The way it envelops you and forces you to sink into it. I used to love hotels as a kid. They felt like a little parallel universe, where time stretched and the rules bent. No strict bedtime. No wake-up calls. We could eat junk food late at night and watch movies while our parents went out. It always made me feel relaxed—like I could let my guard down.
A few months ago, waking up with Atty wrapped around me in that perfect white bed was just a daydream. Something I used to imagine us doing while traveling together. In that version of our lives, we’d be the parents going out at night—only we’d never leave our kids behind.
Now here we were.
I stirred awake, light filtering through the blinds we’d forgotten to close, still in yesterday’s clothes. After every joint in our bodies had locked from lying curled up on the floor, Atty hadscooped me up, laid me down, pulled off my shoes, and tucked the covers around us. We hadn’t said a word.
But he was still here.
My head rested on his arm, his other draped over my waist beneath the blanket. His chest was pressed to my back. Little puffs of breath warmed the space behind my ear.
Everything in my head still felt scrambled, blurred at the edges. Sleep fuzz softened the mess, but last night’s memories still swirled, disjointed. They felt surreal—like they belonged to someone else.
Atty shifted behind me, his hold tightening briefly before he stretched and pulled away. He didn’t say anything, just kissed my cheek and crossed the room to shut the blinds.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, he slid back into bed. “Are you up?” His kisses on my neck were minty this time.
“Something like that.”
“Where’s your head at?”
The sheets rustled lightly as I inched closer to him. “I don’t know.”
“Want to go back to sleep? It’s still early.”
“What time is it?”
“Six.”
I shook my head. We didn’t have to be at the church until noon. Technically, we had time to sleep in. But I didn’t feel like closing my eyes again.
I rubbed my face against his arm. “I want to talk about last night.” The thought escaped before my mind could catch up and stop me.
“Are you sure? We don’t have to. Not right now. Not even later.” His breath was steady against my skin.
I smiled to myself. I loved that he gave me the out. And yeah, I was drained—completely wrecked, like I’d been hit by an emotional freight train—but I couldn’t keep him in the dark. Notafter everything. He’d start making his own assumptions soon enough.
“I’m sure,” I said. “I’ll let you lead. Of all the crazy you witnessed last night, what do you want to start with?”
He didn’t laugh. Atty adjusted his position, resting his chin over my shoulder. “Your mom.”
The big one, right out of the gate.
I inhaled slowly, then let it out just as carefully. “Okay.”
Having anyone meet my mother had always been a minefield. Even Holly—who now refused to be in the same room as her—had loved her at first. My mom had a gift for charming people without even trying. She’d smile, toss her hair, and suddenly, they were besties. Or at least they thought they were.
