Absolutely can’t. Wait.
Later that night, long after Drew went to sleep, I find myself tossing and turning beside him, too restless with the memories running through my brain. I finally crawl out of bed, grab my phone, and head out onto the tiny balcony that is adjacent to the guest room we’re staying in. Despite my restless brain, my limbs are loose and warm, my body well used by my husband. After the quickie in the bathroom, we’d come back outside to find the cake being served and I ate the biggest piece I could find.
It tasted delicious, the secret smiles Drew and I shared as we were surrounded by dozens of strangers making my head light and my heart sing.
After the party, we officially went to bed, where my husband made love to me for hours.
Now I huddle outside, the cool, gentle sea breeze sending my hair everywhere and making me shiver since I’m only wearing a thin nightgown. I look at my phone and find a text message from Drew. I have no idea when he could have sent this to me. I thought I’d been with him the entire evening. But a sweet poem was delivered to me one line at a time:
My beautiful wife, I will
Always love you
Respect you. You’re …
Sweet and sexy
Hot and tempting
My love for you is
All consuming
Lucky me to have found
Love
Only
With you
The tears fall silently, one after another, sliding down my cheeks, dripping from my jaw to land on the ground. But these aren’t tears of sadness, they’re happy. I’ve come full circle. I remember the last time he left me a letter like this, when I didn’t see the hidden message at first. When I’d been so overcome with desolation and loneliness. That letter had given me hope and though he’d let me down at first, he’d eventually come back into my life the way he was meant to.
Now, we belong to each other. And though he’s busy and consumed with his new career, nervous over it, starting a new life with me, and fully reconciling with his father, he still takes the time to write me a sweet little poem that lets me know exactly how he feels.
He’s still in need of the occasional rescue. And I’m the only one who can really save him.
Chapter Five
Fable
“You miss him.”
I shrug, ignoring Owen’s statement. He certainly didn’t word it as a question, because he knows the truth. He knows how I feel.
“Yeah, I do, but it’s okay.” I smile brightly and reach over, tousling Owen’s hair. It’s getting darker as he gets older and there’s golden stubble lining his jaw, which blows my mind every time I see it. He looks one-third boy, two-thirds man, and I both love to see him grow older and despise that he’s not a little boy anymore.
Little boys aren’t as big of a problem. Not that Owen is a troublemaker … not really. Well, okay, he is a little bit. He’s definitely a challenge. Does well at school when he applies himself, which he doesn’t do enough, and that drives me crazy.
He works hard at his part-time job, and he loves playing football just like Drew. But he gets into trouble more often than he should. He’s been caught smoking weed a few times, and I’ve found baggies of the stuff in his jeans when I do his laundry. He was nearly thrown off the football team for his smoking. He’s snuck out of the house so he could go to a party or whatever with his friends. He has too many girlfriends, girls I’m afraid he uses and then discards, and that hurts me. I want him to respect women, but he and his best friend, Wade, both have a shitty attitude when it comes to dating and relationships. And while I like Wade, more often than not they’re looking for trouble together.
But my brother idolizes my husband, which is great. Drew is a positive role model for Owen, and Owen’s the younger brother Drew never had and probably needed. They’re a good support system for each other. I know Owen not so secretly wants to be just like Drew when he’s older.
If you’d told Drew this a few years ago, he would have laughed. Uncontrollably. Why would anyone want to be like him?
He still has no idea just how influential he can be.
“We still on for this weekend, then?” At his question, I meet Owen’s gaze and see he’s grinning from ear to ear. “My friends are so f**king jealous I’m going.”
I send him a stern look. “Language, Owen.” His cursing hasn’t stopped. If anything, I think it’s gotten worse. I’ve tried to control myself. In fact, I’m rather proud of how much I refrain from cursing. I’m trying to be a grownup.
But it’s hard. Really hard, especially when things piss me off or upset me. Like right now, missing my husband so bad my chest aches. I’d love to throw out a few “fucks” and “shits” and gripe like crazy. I could go to Jen. I should give her a call. She’s my best support system, behind Drew and Owen.
“Give me a break, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, still laughing, and I reach out and slap his arm, making him yelp. “What the hell was that for?”
“For being a jerk.” I lean back against the couch, staring sullenly at the TV. I’m watching Sports Center on ESPN, hoping for a glimpse of Drew, a mention, a quick report. They might say something negative, though, since his team lost their game last Sunday and they were expected to win. Speculation is their new quarterback isn’t doing as well as they’d hoped.
Doubters. Bastards, every one of them.
“Are you grumpy because they’re bagging on Drew?” At the hard look I send him Owen waves a hand at me, slumping deeper into the soft leather couch Drew and I picked out when we first moved into the house. Our place is brand new and huge, part of an upscale subdivision on the outskirts of the town I grew up in, an area where I’d never imagined living.