I hear her footsteps padding on the floor behind me before I see her. She’s so predictable when it comes to Jake. She told me once she was afraid being a father would soften me, but it’s her that’s softened. Her tough exterior disappears almost completely when she’s around him, and the glow that she had during her pregnancy returns.
I turn to her. “What’s the point of me getting him if you’re going to just come in here as well?”
She gives me a guilty smile as she tightens the belt of her robe. “I just thought I’d see if you needed any help.”
“Told you she’d be here,” I whisper to Jake, who’s already half-asleep again.
“You’re not supposed to pick him up,” she scolds. But she and I both know she would have as well. “Give him to me.”
“He’s already sleeping. We should put him down and go back to what we were doing.” I waggle my brows suggestively.
“Nah, I’m good,” she teases, taking the baby from my arms. “I need Jake cuddles now.”
I watch her as she carries him to the rocking chair, her expression content in a way that even the best orgasm can’t achieve. She hums a lullaby, soft and low, as she rocks him gently back and forth.
She’s incredible. She doesn’t even realize how incredible, which is half her beauty. In the year since I married her, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about how I almost fucked it all up. How I almost walked away because I was convinced it was the right thing to do. I’ve made a lot of dumbass choices in my life, but that was by far the worst. I couldn’t even blame it on alcohol or an impulse because I thought it out. I planned it. To think what my life would be like without her…
God, I was such a fucking idiot. I’m lucky she took me back. And in case I ever forget it, she makes sure to remind me. Often.
When I’ve tried to reason through my thinking back then, there’s one thought I keep returning to—fear. I was afraid to lose her. It’s as simple as that. And while I want to say that I was acting selflessly, letting go of her so that she’d be safer, that’s only half of the truth. The other half is that I wasn’t sure which would be safer for her—to leave her or to bring her with me—but I did know that I couldn’t watch her get hurt. I couldn’t stand by and watch her take a bullet. Couldn’t stand over her body as it lay in a pool of blood.
It’s my worst nightmare. It doesn’t come often, but occasionally I wake, my heart pounding, in a cold sweat. The dream is always the same—it’s all the details of Corinne’s murder, but when I stand over the body, it’s not Cori’s face I see but Gwen’s. Just the thought of it kills me in ways that Cori’s death never did.
Not to make light of Cori’s murder. It destroyed me. It took away any meaning I had and left me vacant. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but maybe, as painful as it is to say, maybe it actually wasn’t the worst thing. Because if Cori had never died, I wouldn’t have found Gwen, and she’s the best thing that’s ever happened. It feels like the shittiest price to pay to get my dream ending, and I mollify myself by remembering that it wasn’t a price I would have ever chosen. I really did love Cori. She made my life brighter and more vivid.
But Gwen…Gwen is my life.
She looks up at me now, her eyes heavy. “Good thing I don’t work tomorrow.” She’s gone down to part-time at the club. The Sky Launch added lunchtime hours for their restaurant service and Gwen manages it Monday through Friday, ten to three. Sometimes I think she misses the night hours, and I wouldn’t be surprised if eventually she went back to that, after the kids are older.
I’d support her if she wanted to do it now. We could hire another nanny or I’d volunteer to be the stay-at-home-dad type. Whatever she needs to be happy, I’m on board.
Since she brought it up, I take the opportunity to check in. “Would you rather be working full-time again?”
“No,” she scoffs. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
I shrug. “Just making sure you have everything you want in life.”
“Well, I have this guy.” She kisses Jake on his bald head. “And I have you, don’t I?”
As if she has to ask. “I’m yours,” I say.
She smiles and throws one of my old phrases back at me. “Then I have everything.”