Page 21

T hat night, after the kids were asleep, we sat on the couch together decompressing. I turned to her and said, “I know the kids had fun, but be honest… did you have a good time?”

She shifted, pulled the throw blanket over her legs and nestled into her corner of the couch. I watched her snuggle into the cushions and was, for the first time ever in my life, furiously jealous of a couch cushion.

“Yes,” she said with a large exhale. "It was a much-needed break. The kids loved the hotel, and the pools were actually relaxing. I even got to read for a bit.”

“That’s rare,” I said, trying in vain not to stare at her. “What book?”

“Some thriller Violet picked out for me. It was terrible in a fun way.” She smiled, then looked over at me. “You’d have hated it.”

“Probably.” I chuckled. “And the rope drops?” I teased, nudging her foot gently with mine, hoping for a spark of our old rhythm .

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Don’t get me started. Liam practically dragged us out of bed before dawn like he was the one paying for the goddamn trip.”

“Sounds about right. The boy has military precision when it comes to coasters and churros.”

She actually shivered. “Ugh. I hate the lines for the rides the most. I saw a grown man nearly trample a toddler to be first in line. Honestly, I don't know how people can plan all that."

I laughed. “Yeah, well… it’s supposed to be a magical place.”

She rolled her eyes. “More like a mental place. PTSD from the dining reservations, the color-coded itinerary, and the fact that I needed a PhD to book a quick pass. I was setting alarms at 6 a.m. just to get a reservation for a restaurant where the gluten free waffles cost more than my dignity.”

"Are you sure you had a good time?" I asked with playful, mock concern.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I did, yes… despite the stressful parts."

We sat in silence for a moment. I looked at her. I found her so adorable, the way she sat curled on the couch like a cat, and my heart ached to hold her and be held by her in turn. I thought of a hundred different ways to tell her how much I loved her.

Instead I said, “I’m grateful the kids still have you."

She frowned and her gaze narrowed. “They have you too, Levi. Don’t talk like you’re already halfway out the door again.”

Halfway out the door again.

I jolted upright as my voice flooded out in a rush. “No! Not that, never again that. ”

Her gaze scoured my face as she pondered my words. I knew she was discerning my sincerity, and the moment between us was taut with silence before she said, “Good boy. Because that would contradict all the groveling you've done over the last few weeks.”

Those two words filled me, nearly to bursting, and I felt my heart explode with joy from her praise.

I'm a good boy.

She seemed to struggle with what she said next. “When things first started to fall apart… you filled my head with so many hollow excuses and empty promises. You lied about you, about us… goddammit Levi, I can’t help but hear the echo of those lies every time you talk like you're vanishing.”

I scooted closer and said, “I know I’ve given you every reason to doubt me and I can’t erase what I've done… but I’m here. For real. This time, I’m not simply saying the right things. I’m doing the right things. Every day.”

She didn’t speak right away as her fingers absently rubbed the edge of her sleeve, an anxiety sign I knew as her way of processing emotions too heavy for words.

After a minute, she said, “The kids notice, you know. That you’re trying. Violet asked me if you were ‘back-back.’ I didn’t know what to say.”

My chest clenched at that. “You tell them whatever you think is best, Sloane. I know we're trying our hardest not to involve them in our issues, but I won't stop being a parent for them regardless of how this turns out.”

"That's oddly mature of you," she said.

"Thanks. Always trying to impress. "

That earned the barest flicker of a smile before she continued, “You know what really scares me, Levi?” She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back at me.

“It’s not that you cheated. I mean, goddamn, that was hell.

But what scares me more is how easy it was for you to forget us while you were doing it. Like we… stopped existing to you.”

Her words sliced into me with surgical precision. Not out of cruelty, I knew, but out of the harsh honest truth of her pain. Tears swelled in my eyes as I struggled to find the right words.

“I didn’t forget you,” I said in a rasp. “I buried you. I buried us. I buried everything good about my life under whatever lie I needed, just so I could fool myself into feeling justified.”

She didn’t flinch. She sat silent and listened.

“I see it now," I said, "how I made you invisible in your own home. How I walked around like I was the victim, because life didn’t feel worth living anymore. And you… you were working such long shifts, always taking care of the kids, doing your best to hold it all together while I tore it all apart.”

She blinked and I knew she was also fighting back tears as she said, “I used to pray you’d notice. That you’d look up one day and see how tired I was… but when you finally looked up, it wasn’t at me. It was at her.”

A brittle and aching silence sat between us on the couch for a time.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” I eventually said. “But I’ll earn your trust back, even if it takes the rest of my life. Even if you never love me the same way again. I still want to be someone worth loving. Someone the kids can look up to. Someone you can rely on. ”

Sloane let out a shaky breath, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them as if she were holding herself together. “You broke me, Levi. You shattered me to pieces and I don’t know if I can be fixed.”

“I know,” I whispered, almost whimpering.

“But you're not leaving me to hold those pieces alone and… that's something."

What I said next came with such force, such intensity, it caused her to jump. "Sloane, I will never leave your side again. Not until you tell me to go."

Her eyes met mine. They were wet, but unwavering. I knew the fragile honesty we'd shared had done more to bridge the chasm between us than any amount of groveling, gifting, or apologizing either had or could.

Her lips parted, like she wanted to say something, but nothing came. Then, with a timidness that was uncharacteristic of my wife, she reached out and brushed her fingertips across my hand. Our fingers interlocked, warm and tentative.

That was the second time she'd touched me that day.

The simple feel of her delicate fingers intertwined with my own spiraled my mind to an unimaginable height, where I lost all sense of place and time.

We held hands on that couch for either five minutes or five hundred years; I could not say for certain.

Sloane withdrew her hand and, for the briefest moment, my heart ceased at the loss of her touch. But then she slid her fingertips up my arm, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of my shoulder.

I didn’t move. My breathing was shallow, my mouth dry, my pulse pounding. I feared a single word might sever this delicate thread binding us together, so silence reigned between us .

Her fingers slid from my shoulder, to my neck, and then lower. When she flattened her palm over my chest, I feared the thundering beat of my heart was enough to bruise her. I placed my hand over hers, pressing it against me to anchor her touch to my skin.

I felt like a drowning man breaking the water's surface, gasping a desperate breath of air.

She looked at me, her gorgeous eyes searching mine, unsure but willing. I leaned in to brush my lips over hers with graceful care, with tender gentleness, as if she were made of the most delicate filigree.

"Levi, wait. Please." Her voice was small, timid.

I felt her quickening pulse under my fingers, and the way she shifted away told me she wasn’t sure of where this was going. Or where it should go.

“Sloane,” I whispered, “I don’t want to do anything unless you’re sure.”

She said nothing with her lips, but her eyes were full of questioning uncertainty.

“I mean it,” I said. “No blurred lines, no pressure, no risking that you’ll change your mind halfway through.

No regrets. If this is just a moment, then let it pass.

If it’s comfort, I’ll be here for that and nothing more.

But I refuse to take what you’re not ready to give.

" I hesitated, waiting for her to process, then added far more awkwardly than I'd intended, “Also, I don’t have a condom… if you wanted to use one.”

She arched a shocked brow. The corner of her mouth twitched like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or roll her eyes. “I don’t want to use a condom. But thank you for checking?”

“I’m clean,” I said. “I got tested. I wanted to make sure… in the off-chance you wanted to… I mean, I wanted to ensure you were safe. ”

She gave me a long look, her expression unreadable. Then she gave a short, unimpressed hum. “Hmm. Not exactly romantic, Levi.”

I smiled. “No, I know… but still important. Romance is giving flowers. This is… basic human decency.”

“Look at you. Evolving.”

“I’m a work in progress,” I said as I watched her. “But for once, I’m not rushing the ending.”

“That goes against your previous nature.”

“Funny,” I muttered. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

She shrugged. “I mean, you used to rush through everything. Conversations, conflict resolution, foreplay, sex.”

I winced. “Hell, okay… ouch.”

Her eyes flickered with the tiniest glint of amusement. “I’m saying… this is new. The slowness. The awareness.”

“I am trying,” I said. “It’s like emotional yoga. I am sore in places I didn’t know existed.”