Page 53 of The Ballad of Us
Now you're here again,
within my reach,
Teaching me what love can be.”
“Second chances,
Second chances,
Rare as shooting stars,
You gave me mine when I was lost,
Showed me who we really are.”
When I finish, silence fills the space between us. Rhea clutches her mug so tightly her knuckles whiten. The small gesture throbs with meaning, so much so that I can't breathe for a second. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she quickly blinks them back.
“Gray. That's beautiful,” she whispers in a voice heavy with emotion.
“It's about you, about us, and about how grateful I am that you're giving me another chance to get this right.”
She doesn't respond with words. Instead, she shifts closer, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. Her thumb brushes across my skin, and I lean into the touch like a man who's been wandering in the desert and finally found water.
“I'm scared,” she admits quietly.
“Of what?”
“Of wanting this too much. Of believing in us again and having it fall apart.” Her honesty is refreshing, and I’d honestly be worried if she wasn’t afraid after everything I’ve put her through.
I set my guitar aside and take her hands in mine. “I'm scared too— terrified, actually. But Rhea, I’m not the same man who let you down before. Recovery isn’t just about not drinking. It's about learning to be present, to communicate, to show up for the people you love even when it’s hard.” I recall a particular moment during my rehabilitation journey when everything shifted. I was in a group meeting and finally opened up about my fears and failures. It was an unplanned, raw outpouring that left me feeling exposed yet liberated. Sharing my struggles made me realize the importance of vulnerability and honesty in my relationships. It was a small step, but it marked the beginning of my commitment to change, not just for myself, but for us.
“I know. I can see that. It's just...” she begins but stops.
“Just what?”
“I spent so long protecting myself from hoping for too much from you. It's hard to let those walls down.”
I understand. God, do I understand. But sitting here with her hands in mine, her face lit by firelight, I need her to know that this time is different. “What if we don't think about forever? What if we just focus on the present moment, right now, today? I'm here, you're here, and we're choosing to give it a try. That's enough for now.”
She considers this, and I can see the internal debate playing out across her features. “Okay. Right now sounds manageable.”
“Right now, I'd really like to kiss you.” The words slip out before I can stop them, honest and vulnerable and completely terrifying, but Rhea doesn't pull away.
Instead, she moves closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “Right now, I'd really like that too.”
I lean forward slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind, but she meets me halfway. When our lips finally touch, it's soft, tentative, and perfect. She tastes like the peppermint tea she was drinking earlier, and her mouth moves against mine with careful exploration.
It's nothing like the desperate, needy kisses of our past. This is steady, sure, and full of promise. When we finally part, she rests her forehead against mine, and we stay like that for a long moment, breathing the same air.
“That was nice,” she whispers, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Just nice?”
“Okay, it was pretty amazing.” She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my dick, which is already straining against my zipper just from kissing her.
“Better.”
We don't rush into anything more. We sit together by the fire with her hand in mine, talking quietly about everything and nothing until the logs burn down to embers. When she finally says she should head home, I walk her to her car and kiss her goodnight under the stars.
