and he picked me up to carry me downstairs to the couch where I could lay with my head burrowed under his chin, soaking in his presence, letting him whisper promises of love and surety in my ear.
The relief that came with his warm presence and the exhaustion that had built up over the past several days caught up with me and I slept in Sean’s arms for a time. When I woke up, I gazed up into his face and smiled. “You’re still here,” I murmured.
He kissed my head. “I’m here for good.”
I wrapped my arms more securely around his torso. “Tell me what happened after the accident.”
He frowned and took a deep breath before diving in, telling me about how minor the accident was in general, and how unfortunate that the swerve of the car had thrown me into the window. His eyes took on a haunted look as he told me about trying to assess me and Joanie, then they flashed to anger as he described how he’d tried to go after the photographers.
We talked about the video I had seen of him yelling at the paparazzi and claiming he was done. “You know you’re not really done though,” I stated.
He heaved a sigh. “I know. But I’m going to make some big changes from here on out.”
It was hard listening to it all, but knowing was better than not knowing, and I’ll admit to feeling a little vindication when he told me how miserable he was from the moment he decided to leave me.
He was telling me Randy’s take on the whole situation when Joanie woke.
The instant Joanie started making noise on the baby monitor, it was like someone had called Sean to attention. He sat up, alert and excited. “Can I get her?” he asked.
My eyes misted at his earnest plea. “Yeah,” I choked out.
He bounded up the stairs and returned a couple minutes later, my daughter tucked up against his chest. He sank down beside me and closed his eyes, a broad smile stretching his face. “This is better than any drug.”
I chuckled. “It’s nice to know I have some potent backup for convincing you to stay.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Naomi left the day after Sean moved back into the guest house. She had her own life, her own husband, her own drama to get back to, but I knew she’d always be there for me, just a phone call and a plane ride away if ever I needed her.
Sean and I were moving forward, and yet we had gone back too. I tried not to doubt him, tried not to let my paranoia get the better of me, but of course it wasn’t realistic to expect my broken trust to be mended so quickly. Sean had to constantly reassure me. His leaving me combined with my already fragile postpartum state resulted in an intense vulnerability that both Sean and I had to actively combat.
Still, as the days turned into weeks and I accumulated more and more evidence of Sean’s commitment, and especially his love for Joanie, the steel band that had been squeezing my heart since the accident started to loosen just a little bit each day.
♪♫♪
I ran my finger over Joanie’s eyebrow, past her temple and down her cheek, slow and soothing until her eyes closed and didn’t flutter open again. By the time I laid her down, her mouth was hanging open, her plump bottom lip looking more adorable each day. She was officially two months old.
I caressed her silky cheek one more time and then left the nursery, closing the door behind me. I went down to the great room, which, though it had been designed to be formal and fancy, I had made into one giant family room/playroom. There were blankets and bouncers and bins of diapers and wipes.
There were also guitars and a keyboard. This was where Sean and Joanie and I spent our time when Sean was home, which was still a lot. He did have a few things lined up in the coming weeks, but he’d been utterly devoted to staying with me and Joanie ever since he’d come to his senses and came back to me. And he seemed happy here. I suppose I had expected to see signs of discontent in him, like he was tiring of this slower pace of life, but that wasn’t the case. Instead he seemed more whole and complete than I’d ever known him to be.