Rooted to the floor and refuse to move.
Eventually I feel wetness against my skin, and I know she’s crying. Fuck it may be me crying too. I’m overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed by the feelings crawling up into my stomach. It’s like I went over a hill too fast on my bike. My throat is tight, my nose burns; but my heart, my heart is so damn full with love for her.
Her legs and arms are wrapped tightly around me, so I let go, putting my palms on her temples and pull her back enough so that I can see her face. It’s her, she’s crying, and I wipe those tears from beneath her eyes. The way I should have wiped them up when we lost our baby. Instead of it bringing us closer together, it ripped us apart. I have so much to apologize for, but first I need to see her.
For myself, I need to see that she’s making a recovery.
“Open up for me, babe,” I speak so softly it’s not even a whisper.
I’m scared to ruin this moment between us, because I’ve wanted it for so goddamn long.
She does. She opens her eyes, and the eyes that have looked lifeless, sad, and cloudy shine brighter than a fucking star in the sky. They’re clear, ready to see the entire world, ready to face it head on.
“I love you.” I smile at her. “I love you so much, I wish I could show you.”
She cries harder, but doesn’t close her eyes. Mandy lets me look, lets me get lost in the depths. It’s been months since I looked at her, and knew she was looking right back at me. This guts me.
It’s a hitch in my throat at first, but then it comes rushing out as a sob. One I can’t hold back, even if I were to try, it would come wrenching out of me. All broken and ugly.
Together we hold each other in this empty room, pouring our hearts out to one another without words.
Because we can.
The couple who couldn’t even bear to talk to one another a few months ago, can now talk without words.
Healing is taking place in this silent moment and I let it. Whatever we have to say to one another will still be there once we get through doing something together we’ve never done: process emotions.
Chapter Seventeen
Mandy
Sitting across from Dalton is worth everything I’ve done to get to this point. Seeing him again is my present for all this pain I’ve endured, for the work I’ve accomplished, even when I haven’t been sure if what I’m doing is working.
“You look really good.” I smile, holding his hand tightly across the table.
What I wouldn’t give to lay in his arms right now.
“You do too, babe. God I’ve missed you.”
Those words make my soul feel lighter, they get rid of some of the doubt and punishment I’ve put on myself.
“How’s Walker? I wish he could have come with you.”
“He’s good, doing much better since you wrote him that letter.”
Our conversation flounders, and I know it’s not because there isn’t a lot to say. It’s because we’re nervous.
Which makes sense; the last time we saw each other, wasn’t good for either one of us. One of the things I’ve realized in my therapy is I need to be the one to start the conversation.
“I’m sorry.” I tilt my head to the side, pulling my lip in between my teeth. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through, put our family through, and for making you feel like you were anything less than my partner.”
“Mandy…”
“No, let me finish. This needs to be said. The place I was in was so dark I couldn’t see any way to come out of it, and I blamed you.”
His face falls. I hate hurting him, but all this needs to be put out there.
“Which is dumb,” I hurry to continue. “I blamed you for leaving.”
“You asked me to.”
My hand goes up, hoping to stop him. It does and I take a breath, fortifying myself to keep going.
“You’re right, I did ask you to. It’s one thing in what I’ve learned is a long list I have of things I expected people to know about me.”
“I’m so confused, babe.”
“I was too.” I pull my free hand up to my chin, giving myself a moment. “One of the things I’ve learned here is I ask people for things I want them to say no to, because I want them to fight me