Page 20 of An Unfinished Memory

“Chambers, got a question for you.”

“Shoot,” he said and licked his fork.

“What would you say the secret to you and Roxie is?”

I expected him to make a joke about how Roxie couldn’t get enough of him or she didn’t have much choice in a town as small as ours, but he leveled a serious gaze on me. “Asking a bit late, aren’t you, son?”

My lungs constricted. Yeah, I should’ve asked earlier. I should’ve listened to how unhappy Sutton was, but we’d been a pair. We went together. And then she was gone. “For future reference,” I said roughly.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter anyway. “A lot of people these days think it’s love, but I think it’s respect.”

I scowled at him. I respected the hell out of Sutton.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Love, sure. Trust, absolutely. Sacrifice, unfortunately. But the foundation that supports it all is respect. You respect their personality, their strengths, and their weaknesses. You respect who they are, what makes them tick, what makes them feel safe, what they fear. Respect is the concrete that goes deep into the ground. Love and trust are the walls and rafters. Put all of those together, and you have a home.”

He shrugged again, set his fork and plate by the sink, and shuffled back to the office as if he hadn’t just demolished everything I thought I’d been doing right in my marriage.

Sutton

The Purple Petal was full for an early Saturday evening. People would continue to pile into the most popular restaurant in Crocus Valley for the night. Aggie and Istopped in after hitting several rummage sales and filling the back of her pickup.

“I don’t think you’ll need to buy Ro clothes or toys for the next five years.”

She took a drink of lemonade. “I can’t believe the cute stuff we found. I wasn’t even looking for outfits for her.” She winced and touched her boobs. “I need to pump soon.”

“We can call it for the day, too, if you just want to go home to feed her.” I enjoyed my afternoon with Aggie. My mind hadn’t had time to spin since I left Wilder shut in my bedroom, and that was fine with me.

Part of me begged to return home, dive between my covers, and inhale deeply. Would the bedding still smell like him?

“It’s our time out,” she insisted.

“It’s okay.” A yawn snuck out. “I didn’t get much rest last night.”

“The new medicine kicking your butt?”

“No.” I frowned, hating how a little fib led to a constant string of lying. The meds weren’t exactly new. “I still feel good.” Physically, I was amazing. Mentally, there was a lightness that wasn’t there before Wilder broke into my dance. The panic of the morning didn’t drown out the anticipation of Wilder’s next visit.

“Cravings and all that gone?”

I turned my attention to Aggie. I was already being a crappy friend. “Mostly.”

I had polycystic ovary syndrome. Four years ago, I’d gone off birth control, thinking Wilder and I had needed to get to making kids if we were going to do it. I’d been over thirty and had already tackled my vet school loans.We’d been in a good place financially to start a family. As a couple, we’d been okay.

The kids hadn’t come, and periods had gotten irregular, sometimes painfully heavy, cravings hit me hard, and the fucking acne drove me insane. I hadn’t had a breakout for almost twenty years until I went off birth control.

My doctor thought it was just a post-birth-control adjustment, but the symptoms stayed, along with the infertility.

Aggie waited like she knew there was more.

I couldn’t get away with one-word answers with her, and she deserved more for caring about me. “I feel a lot better. More regular, but still…off.”

She nodded like she knew what I meant, and that was the refreshing part. She didn’t, and she still understood.

When Wilder had first introduced me to Aggie, I thought she was a sweet, wild girl. Being around her reminded me of how precocious I had longed to be, but the way I’d grown up hadn’t allowed it. I never would’ve guessed how close we’d become.

Aggie listened to what I said. She considered my feelings, and she empathized. I wasn’t brushed off. My concerns weren’t diminished, and she never told me, “It’s not a big deal,” like my parents had when I told them what bothered me as a kid.

I would’ve asked for a divorce earlier if I hadn’t been so afraid of losing her friendship. She was why I ended up in Crocus Valley. I was no longer an in-law, but Ro was my niece, and Cody’s kids were also family, just like Aggie and Cody.

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