limping to the table.
They ate in silence, sharing an occasional sad smile but mostly focusing on their food or the pool out back that was twice the size of Ian’s pool, decked out with a slide and diving board. After dinner, they climbed the stairs at a snail’s pace. Jersey stopped at the door to the room where Chris had stayed.
She bit her lips together to keep her emotions from running out of control.
“You’re allowed to be sad,” Ian said, reaching for her hand.
She nodded slowly, using her other hand to blot away a tear before it escaped. They shuffled down the hallway to the other guest bedroom. Jersey brushed her teeth while Ian sponged his body off, avoiding his bandaged areas. She didn’t sneak a single peek in his direction. Instead, she spit out her toothpaste and crawled into bed.
As soon as he joined her, shutting off the lights and getting into bed with her, both on their sides facing each other. Jersey lifted her hand, running it through his hair. “We need to talk.”
Ian closed his eyes, returning a tiny nod. “We will … later. We need time.”
Jersey gave him time—weeks.
Weeks of monotony. Weeks of his leg healing. Weeks of his ear healing. The plastic surgeon worked miracles rebuilding his ear. Underneath his shaggy hair, it looked completely normal.
Jersey spent her days with the dogs, watching the reconstruction of Ian’s house and hitting a bag he set up for her in the Blevins’s garage. Occasionally, she sat by the pool and listened to audiobooks on her phone. A truly remarkable invention and the very best gift from Ian.
His record label calmed down, after he had to cancel the last part of his tour, because he promised to get to the studio and start working on a new album.
Sometimes they held hands, sometimes he kissed her on the head while she stood in front of the fridge perusing for a snack, and every night, he spooned her body to his in bed.
No intimacy.
No kissing.
She missed the kissing so much.
His unspoken words grew into this gigantic barred fence between them. They could see each other and find some physical contact, but they just couldn’t connect. He stayed in his cell, and she stayed in hers, afraid to push him, afraid of losing him.
Her G.
Her protector.
Her life.
“Ian’s different.” Jersey and Max took Lola and Foxy for a short walk one evening since Ian worked late and Max used any excuse to not be home with her husband. Jersey still had the boot, but she had to get out and move around for a bit.
“How so?” Max stopped as Lola pissed in a small patch of grass.
“He’s distant. I know you don’t want to hear the graphic details of our sex life, but the different part is that we’re not having sex. We’re not kissing. We’re not doing anything. I don’t know why I’m here. He hugs me at night, like a stuffed animal or body pillow. I listen to books during the day, work out, and just exist in his life. But as what?”
“They’ve been working hard on this new album. He’s feeling pressure from the label after canceling the rest of the tour. I can promise you he’s not cheating on you.”
“Cheating on me? I’m not worried about that. We’re not … well, I don’t know what we are or are not. Roommates, I guess. I mean, Chris—Kessler—used to sleep next to me and hug me. But we were just friends. If Ian’s fucking someone when he’s not at home, then I’d say I’m jealous but not mad. I mean … whatever. Sex is just sex. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m overanalyzing things. Feeling trapped in the house. I should get some sex if I want it, right?”
Max stopped, gawking at Jersey.
Blink.
Blink.
“He loves you!”
Jersey nodded slowly, eyes squinted. “Maybe. But I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about sex. And I’m talking about talking. He won’t talk to me. It’s like he’s avoiding me at all costs. I know you’re saying he’s busy, but when you guys left without me to finish the tour, he found time to talk to me, even if it was just a few minutes on the phone. He wanted to talk to me. He doesn’t want to talk now.”
Max nodded, moving forward as the dogs pulled on their leashes. “Want me to talk to him?”
“Yes. No …” Jersey sighed. “No. I don’t want him to know I said anything to you. He’s too protective of