the same room, making a life together, making love. I was nervous about each prospect. Brock, though, seemed so self-assured about it. I was beginning to think a lot of Brock’s therapy sessions revolved around our marriage. He’d shared several bits of counsel he had received. Advice about how we needed to decide what we wanted and be open to self-growth and improvement; we needed to be open and honest about how we felt, even expressing anger and hurt.
Pieces of me were still hurting. I had felt rejected by Brock. And being vulnerable around him scared me. I couldn’t stand the humiliation of him rejecting me again. Brock was adamant that he wouldn’t. But what if he once again took me to bed and all he could think about was me with his brother? What if I couldn’t go through with it? Brock promised me we would take it all slow when he came home. That we could make it work.
Brock had asked me to go furniture shopping with him when he got home. He wanted me to feel like the master bedroom was our room in every sense. He desperately wanted me to call his place home. If I was being honest, I wanted that too. And it was starting to feel more like home, at least with Sheridan there. Now that she was gone, it felt . . . well, it felt like I had a lot of time on my hands to think. Thankfully, this was my busiest time of year, so I had a way to distract myself.
We got all the food on the tables and everyone settled. I did indeed exile myself to the “children’s table.” No one tried to stop me. I think they knew that, inside, I was wallowing in loneliness. Yet I couldn’t help but feel the infectious joy floating around. I watched Ariana sit between her husband and father. That in and of itself was a miracle. Her dad, Dean, had sapphire-blue eyes that matched his daughter’s, and he gazed at her, eyes twinkling with happiness. All while her husband stared adoringly at her like he was the luckiest man on the planet, and he was. Her stepmother, Sabine—who was an Audrey Hepburn knockoff—chatted happily with my grandparents, making sure to graciously compliment them on their home and thank them for sharing the holiday with them. I could tell it put Grandma at ease. And Kinsley and Tristan couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
My table was full of laughter and mischief. Max and Sebastian were taking the role of uncle seriously when it came to Whitney, teasing her that dinosaurs weren’t real. She wasn’t having it. She stood up on her folding chair, which I quickly grabbed to make sure she didn’t fall, and shook her finger at them. “I have empirical evidence,” she shouted. She was probably the only six-year-old who knew what empirical meant. Both boys’ jaws dropped. They knew she was a genius, but they weren’t around her all that often, so her vocabulary still caught them off guard. Whitney knew she had gotten to them. She gave them a smug smile. “When we get back home, I’ll show you on my laptop all my notes from my dinosaur dig, and Mary Anning’s work.”
“You know we’re teasing you, Whitney.” Sebastian fluttered his eyes unabashedly.
“Yeah,” Max added, “though the truth is, those fossils were placed here by aliens.” He erupted in a roar of laughter.
Whitney stomped her feet. Thankfully, I was holding the chair steady. “That is a lie propagated by conspiracy theorists,” she fumed.
I knew this was the right table for me.
“Boys, quit teasing your niece,” Sabine berated her sons from the other table.
The look they shared with each other said they were just beginning.
Grandpa stood at the head of the main table. He may have been up there in age, but his spirit was as strong as ever. He held himself proud and straight, yet he wore a look of peace and contentment. Family was everything to him. He caught my eye, and in his soft expression I was reminded of the first time I’d met him. I don’t think he had been sure what to do with me. He’d known some of the things I’d faced, especially at the hands of men. And he’d known that I didn’t trust him, at first. He’d never forced a relationship with him, yet little by little he had shown me how a real man treats women—he was a