What About Now (Everlasting Ink #4)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Brogan

“How are things?” Susan, my therapist, asks me. We’re sitting in matching chairs in her office.

“They’re going.” I smile, because I can’t help myself.

“That’s new.” Susan points to my face.

“Yeah,” I agree. I’m way past trying to hide things from this woman. Besides, hiding doesn’t help me get over the past and look toward the future.

“How’s married life?”

“It’s… not at all what I anticipated, and more than I ever dreamed.” I’m aware that I’m gushing over my husband, but I can’t seem to help myself.

“You’re what? Ten weeks into your agreed time frame?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“The timeline?”

“Yes.”

“I feel like six months isn’t enough time.”

“Enough time for what, Brogan?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know what she’s doing, and it’s annoying as much as it’s helpful. “Not enough time with him,” I whisper.

“You want more time with him?”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Have you told him that?”

“No. I don’t plan to tell him either.” I can’t tell him that I cherish every minute I spend with him.

“Tell me why.”

“What if he changes his mind?” That’s what scares me the most. I didn’t know my mother, but I felt the loss of her my entire life. Losing my dad gutted me, but I didn’t really have time to grieve, because I was helping my sister raise two tiny baby girls on her own. That’s something that Susan has helped me understand, Briar too. We didn’t get to grieve our father. However, Forrest, he helped Briar leap over her worries of losing him, but I’m still stuck in my head.

I care about Maddox. He holds a piece of me. No man before him ever has, and to have him walk away, or worse, lose him, I wouldn’t survive that. I feel that deep in my soul. It’s been a little over two months being married to him, and he’s the best part of my day.

Every day.

“Brogan, do you really think he’s going to change his mind? From everything you’ve told me, Maddox adores you.”

“I don’t know. That’s what my head tells me.”

“What does your heart tell you?”

The silence rings between us. Closing my eyes, I really think about her words. I think about our time together. I think about how patient he’s been with me, and how he looks at me, like I’m his, like I light up his life. I think about how I want to fall into that look, into that feeling that I’m the only person in his world who matters. I’m just so afraid he’s going to get fed up with my insecurities and my fear of losing someone else I love. Because even if I don’t say the words out loud, I can admit to myself that I’m falling hard for him.

“My heart tells me he’s a good man. My heart tells me he feels this as much as I do.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure, that’s why I’m paying you the big bucks,” I joke.

She chuckles lightly. “I’d like for you to consider having Maddox come to an appointment with you. I’d happily work a session with the two of you into my schedule. I know when you and Briar came together, it helped both of you so much. I think you should consider the same with Maddox. Open and honest communication is important for every marriage.”

“It’s temporary.”

“Is it? From where I’m sitting, you both want this to last the test of time. Is that what you want, Brogan?”

“Of course that’s what I want!” I say far too loudly, but Susan doesn’t even flinch. “He’s the first man I’ve wanted more from since that night. Now that he’s mine, and I’ve experienced what it’s like to go to sleep with his arms wrapped around me and his gruff good morning at the first light of day, why would I want to give that up?”

“I’m proud of you for admitting that.”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling more exposed than I have in a very long time. “Sorry I raised my voice,” I mumble. I was out of line.

Susan waves her hand in the air. “It’s nothing, and I’m used to it.” She sets her notebook on the table in front of us and leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Brogan, you’re not broken. I know that’s what you think, but that’s your fear talking. Life has passed out some heavy hits, but you’re stronger because of it. Does it suck? Sure. But look at Briar. She’s embraced that life is what you make of it. You have to fight every day to live the life you want. You have to look past those hits and look toward what’s next.”

“More hits,” I grumble.

“Maybe. Probably. Life is imperfect, just as we humans are. You’re missing the biggest pieces of this puzzle, Brogan.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you want to take those hits standing alone or with a man next to you, who wants to hold you up and take each one for you? With you. Do you want to live in fear or let love and happiness guide you?”

I let her words spin around in my mind. I know she’s right. I’ve spent so much time trying to make up for that night at the frat party. The guilt sits heavily on my shoulders, and I don’t deserve a man like Maddox. I don’t deserve that love and happiness.

“Our time's up for today, but think about what you want. Really think about it. It’s going to be a fight every day. Also, consider inviting Maddox to an appointment. You let me know when and we’ll make it work.”

“Thank you, Susan.” I stand and move toward the door.

“Brogan?”

I turn to look at her.

“It’s not your fault.” She smiles, and I give her a half-assed one in return. She tells me this at the end of every solo appointment. I might not always talk about that night, but that’s where my guilt lies. Susan, I’m sure, plans to keep telling me until I believe her.

I don’t know if I ever will.

When I make it to the house, Maddox is already home. As I step inside, I can smell he’s already working on dinner. After kicking off my shoes and hanging up my coat, I go in search of my husband.

“Hey, beautiful. How was your day?” He offers me a huge smile, one I’ve noticed he only gives me.

“Good. I worked until noon, since I work Saturday, and had a therapy appointment after.”

“How did that go? Anything you want to talk about?” he asks.

I don’t know why, but his question has tears springing to my eyes. I feel raw after every session, but this feels different. I shake my head, unable to form words. Maddox puts the lid back on the pot, turns off the burner of what smells like chili, and, in a few long strides, he’s standing before me. He doesn’t say a single word; he just wraps his arms around me and holds me close. His arms band around me like a vise, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my tears from falling.

My arms go around him, and I fist his shirt as the tears continue to flow. Maddox never loosens his hold on me. He kisses my head, and his grip holds strong as he lets me work through my tears. When I try to pull away, he grunts, and the next thing I know, his hands are on the backs of my thighs, and I’m wrapping my legs around his waist, before burying my face in his neck.

I’m embarrassed. I’m an emotional wreck, and this man doesn’t deserve to deal with my drama. We’re moving, but I can’t find it inside me to care where we’re going. When I feel him sit, I finally open my eyes. We’re on the couch.

I lift my head and wipe at my eyes. I part my lips to apologize, but Maddox places his index finger over them. “Come here.” He pats his chest, and I lie against him. It’s a little awkward, but we make it work.

He runs his hands up and down my back and pushes my hair out of my face. “You don’t have to tell me, but, baby, my heart is cracked wide open right now. I hate seeing your tears. I want to fix whatever’s bothering you so I can see those big green eyes light up with your smile.”

“I told you I’m broken, and I soaked your shirt.” I don’t know why, but that bothers me. He’s such a good man. He’s going to get tired of my bullshit soon; I’m certain.

“No.” His voice is stern. “You’re not broken. You’re hurting, Brogan. Those are two very different things.”

“What makes you think I’m hurting?” I ask, fighting off another round of tears.

“Because you’re my wife. It’s my job to know. I live with you. I sleep next to you. I’m spending my life with you. I’d know if you’re broken, and, baby, that’s not it. You have a lot going on up here.” He taps my temple. “And in here.” He rests that same hand over my heart. “I’m here when you’re ready. Until you are, come to me and let me hold you. You can soak as many shirts as you need to as long as you’re in my arms when you do it.”

I’m quiet for a long time, and Maddox lets me sit with my thoughts. “I miss my dad.”

“I can’t imagine that pain,” he replies softly.

“He was all we had.”

“That’s not true anymore. You have an entire group of people, an Everlasting Ink family, who love you. You, Briar, and the girls. You have me.”

“I feel that here.” I tap his chest over his heart. “But it’s this”—I lift my hand and tap his temple—“that needs to catch up.”

“Did you talk about your dad today?” he asks gently.

“Not really. We talked about you.”

“Me?” he asks, surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

I study him. “That’s it? Okay?”

“I don’t know what else to say, Brogan. I want you to talk to me. I want you to trust that I’m here for you, but I can’t make you do that. Whatever you talk to your therapist about is yours and yours alone. I hope you know that you can talk to me, but I’m not going to pressure you to tell me. Just… am I causing your pain?” His hand again goes to my chest, to rest over my heart. “Am I causing these tears?”

“No,” I rush to say. “It’s me, and my hangups with my past and our present.”

He nods, but the sadness and worry I see in his eyes has me parting my lips to tell him more. “Susan, that’s my therapist, Briar’s too. Anyway, she suggested I bring you to a visit with me.”

“When do we go?”

“Just like that?” I ask, tilting my head to the side to study him.

“Yes. Just like that. If that’s what you need. If you want me there, then I’m there. Tell me when, and I’ll make it work.”

I smile at that. “That’s what Susan said. She told me she would work us into her schedule.”

“When?” he asks again.

“I—I’m not sure.” It’s not that I don’t want him to go with me, but does that end us? Does that let him see what the next fifty years he keeps talking about will look like? Living with a wife who’s dealing with crushing guilt that keeps her from truly living. That’s what Susan says, but she thinks I can overcome it. I’m just not so sure that I can.

He places his hands on my cheeks. “When you know, you let me know. There is nothing that will keep me from being there for you.”

Tears well again. “Thank you, Maddox.”

He sits up, bringing us closer together, his hands still cradling my cheeks. “I’m all in, Brogan. These past few weeks have been better than I ever could have imagined them to be. I want this life with you. Together, we’ll fight through whatever battles we have to face to make that happen.”

Until he gets tired of the battle, my head says, but my heart… it melts for this man, for my husband.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything,” he says, kissing me softly. “Are you hungry?”

I nod. “Something smells amazing.”

“I made chili. I was only on the books for half a day today. I work late tomorrow night, so I wanted to be here when you got home to spend the night with you.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“I care about you.” He shrugs. “Spoiling comes with that.” He winks.

“You make the bad days better,” I confess.

His eyes light up as if I just told him he won a million dollars. I try to move off his lap, but he locks his arms around me, holding me in place.

“You, wife, are the best part of every day.” He kisses me again, this time deeper, and I open for him, saying with my kiss what I don’t have the guts to tell him with my words.

I’m falling for you.

I want you.

He slides his hands under my sweater, and I rock against him. I grip his shirt, holding him close. I’m new to all of this, but kissing my husband is something I’ve come to crave. No matter how many kisses we share, I want more. No matter what happens, there will never be a time when I don’t want more of Maddox Lanigan.

He groans and tears his lips from mine. “Dinner,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “I made dinner.”

“Dinner. Right,” I say, catching my breath.

Maddox laughs. “Let me feed you.”

I nod, and this time, when I try to climb off his lap, he lets me. I offer him my hand, and he takes it, letting me help him stand from the couch even though he doesn’t need the help. He laces our fingers together and leads me to the kitchen.

We enjoy dinner sitting at the kitchen island, talking about our day. Maddox finished a chest piece for a long-time customer this morning, and I told him about the patient that fainted on me when I tried to draw his blood.

“You know, it’s always the men,” I tell him. “Big babies.”

He laughs. “Trust me, I know. I get these big-ass burly guys coming in for ink, and as soon as they see my needle, their eyes are rolling back in their heads.”

“Do they go through with it?”

“Usually. I have a regular who brings an eye mask. He lays down and puts it on with headphones, and that’s how he stays until I’m done.”

“That’s dedication.” I laugh.

“It is,” he agrees.

“Briar and I always said we were going to get matching tattoos, but we’ve never taken the plunge.”

His eyes burn with intensity when he says, “If that happens, you have to let me do it.”

“I’m sure any of the guys will be fine. You’re all super talented.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No way. If my wife is getting ink for the first time, it’s going to be from me.”

“You’re bossy,” I tease.

“Promise me, Brogan.”

“Is this really that important to you?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Fine. If we ever decide to go through with it, I’ll let you do it.”

“Trust me, Forrest will be the same way.”

“So, they won’t match, if they’re done by two different people,” I tell him. I know that’s not true. They’d use the same template, and like I said, they’re all hella talented from the pictures I’ve seen, but I know it will rile him up. I’ve never had a man be jealous over me, and I’m pretty sure that’s where this conversation veered off to.

“Brogan,” he growls, and I giggle.

“I’m just teasing.”

He leans in and kisses me. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he presses his forehead to mine. “It drives me crazy to think of another man marking you.”

“It’s just a tattoo.”

“It’s forever, baby. I’m the only man who gets to be a part of your forever.”

“And what if you weren’t a tattoo artist?” I counter. I’m enjoying this way too much after the heavy of the day.

“I’m sure I’d feel differently, but I’d still need to be there, and it would have to be in a location on your body where you don’t have to strip down.”

“Oh, so not on my breasts.”

“Brogan.” Another warning growl follows, which makes me laugh.

“I’m teasing.”

“You’re giving me an ulcer,” he says, dead serious.

“I’m sorry.” I lean in and kiss him. I don’t initiate our kisses often, and I love how his eyes sparkle when I do. “Forgive me?”

“Like I could ever stay mad at you. All you have to do is bat those big green eyes at me, and I’m toast.”

“So, if I do this?” I bat my eyes at him. “And ask for more kisses.”

He stands and lifts me from my chair, tossing me over his shoulder. “My wife gets what my wife wants,” he says, marching off toward the bedroom.

“We need to clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it. First, I’m running you a bath, and I’m going to kiss the hell out of you while I do. Then you’re going to soak in the tub while I clean up, and later, you can have all the kisses.”

“All of them?” I tease.

“Forever,” he promises, and there’s something in his gaze, something in the intensity of his words that makes me almost believe him.