Page 68 of The Ballad of Us
“I have a confession.” Her voice is soft with contentment.
“What's that?” I run my fingers down her back because I can’t stop touching her yet.
“I've been thinking about this for weeks. Since Halloween, maybe earlier. I kept wondering what it would be like with you when you're sober.” There’s a bit of shyness in her voice.
“And?”
“Even better than I imagined.” She tilts her head up to look at me, and her smile is radiant. “Who knew sobriety was such an aphrodisiac?”
I chuckle, the sound escaping with a slight hesitation, a flicker of the insecurities that once haunted me passing briefly. Then the humor takes hold, buoying us both in this newfound lightness.
I laugh, the sound rumbling through my chest where her head rests. “Is that your professional medical opinion, Dr. Rhea?”
“Absolutely. I'm thinking of writing a paper: 'The Correlation Between Emotional Availability and Sexual Satisfaction: A Case Study.”
“I volunteer to be your research subject.” I turn us both so we're facing each other, her body curved against mine in perfect alignment.
“The research might take years. Very thorough, hands-on investigation required.” Her mock seriousness is cute as fuck.
I always enjoy it when Rhea is playful. “I'm prepared to make that sacrifice for science.”
She giggles, and the sound is pure joy, infectious and bright. I catch it with my mouth, kissing her until we're both breathless again. I marvel at how easy this is and how natural it feels to be naked, vulnerable, and completely happy with this woman in my arms.
“Merry Christmas, Gray,” she whispers against my lips.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
As we settle into the perfect puzzle-piece fit of two people who belong together, I think about how different this Christmas is from any I've had before. Last year, I was drinking myself toward rock bottom. This year, I'm holding the woman I love in a bed we've just consecrated with the type of intimacy that only comes from absolute trust and presence.
Recovery gave me my life back, but love gave me a reason to live it. A soft chime from my phone breaks the quiet with a message from my sponsor, checking in and reminding me that the journey is ongoing and growth remains a commitment. I think back to the support that keeps me steady through it all. It’s been the talks with my sponsor, meetings with others who empathize, and the unwavering support from Rhea and the band. In moments of doubt, she has been a constant, encouraging me with her unwavering belief in my ability to conquer my demons.
Our love has grown alongside my sobriety, becoming supportive and persistent. As Rhea shifts beside me, I'm overcome by my emotions. Her presence envelops me, her belief holding me steady. In her arms, I find comfort and the courage to honor love and sobriety each day.
And lying here with Rhea in my arms, I finally understand what Bruce meant when he talked about the difference between existing and truly being alive. This is being alive. This moment, this woman, this love that has been tested by fire and emerged stronger than ever.
“You know what's funny?” Rhea murmurs sleepily, her breath warm against my neck.
“What?” My fingers find their way to her silky blonde hair.
“I used to think great sex required passion and drama. But this is better than I ever imagined. The secret is being completely here and aware. How do we keep this magic when the routine returns?” she muses, inviting us to think beyond the moment.
“By always seeing each other, truly seeing, and never taking it for granted. Every moment doesn't need to be all-consuming, but it can be meaningful. Everyday gestures will keep us connected.” I pull her closer until there's no space left between us. “Leave it to you to turn pillow talk into philosophy.”
“I'm a complex woman with many layers,” she says with dignity that's undermined by the fact that she's completely naked and giggling.
“I'm looking forward to exploring every single one of them.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I let her know how much I love the eternal depth she possesses. It’s what attracted me to her in the beginning, despite how much of a knockout she is.
“That's a lot of layers. Could take a lifetime.”
“Good thing I'm not going anywhere.”
She settles against me with a contented sigh, and as I listen to her quiet breathing, I’m overwhelmed by the miracle of this trust. Holding her, I feel not just love but worth. She gives me the certainty that I am enough. Her faith in me quiets my doubts, letting me feel accepted as I lie awake.
Tomorrow is Christmas morning, our first together as these new versions of ourselves. We'll make breakfast, exchange the last Advent gifts, and savor the quiet. A new tradition could involve cooking, sharing laughs over small culinary victories, and enjoying coffee. Later, a walk in the park, holding hands, and dreaming of our future are in order. We'll mostly stay in bed, talking and laughing like the two long-lost soulmates we are, who’ve been apart for too long.
But tonight, I’m exactly where I belong—holding the woman I love, and peace comes effortlessly, peaceful, brimming with meaning. I understand what it means to show up, to choose love, and to finally live fully inside this moment.
It's the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for.
