Chapter 13
Zoe
At ten p.m., the doorbell rings.
I let out a long breath. Wesley just fell asleep.
It took almost an hour. Restless for some reason I can't name.
Rejecting the pacifier and the bottle. Not settling for the lullabies I usually sing.
In the end he gave in from pure exhaustion, his brow still pinched even in sleep.
The last thing I need is him waking up now.
“I can't stay in my apartment,” Tessa says by way of greeting the second I crack the door. “I need to see you.”
I'm so stunned she shows up without warning that I don't even know what to say. I just step aside and let her in.
The living room sits in shadow. Only the corner lamp is on, the one I use when Wesley sleeps because the overhead light is too harsh. Tessa stands by the window and watches the rain stripe down the glass.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” I whisper. “I opened a bottle with dinner.”
When I come back with two glasses, she hasn't moved. Not a good sign.
“Tell me,” I exhale, dropping onto the couch and patting the cushion beside me. “Sit.”
“You know what happened.”
“I know you talked to Nate. I know he said things. Probably horrible things, because that's who he is.” I take a sip. The wine tastes sharp. “But I don't know what he said. Not exactly. And I think I need to.”
Silence.
“He asked if you love me,” she admits, finally, “or if you just don't want to be alone.”
“Jesus, Tessa...”
“He said you used him as a consolation prize. The replacement after I broke you.” Her voice tightens.
“He said you never loved him. That on your honeymoon you were watching a German league match on TV, one my team played in, and the first thing you did was grab your phone to see if I posted something.”
I close my eyes and bite my lower lip. Shit. I remember it. I remember that exact moment like it's tattooed behind my eyelids.
“Nate said maybe you don't love me,” Tessa goes on. “That maybe you just want the intensity you remember from college. That you're reaching for what's familiar because it's easier than risking something new.”
“Tessa...”
“And the worst part is...” She swallows. “Nate's right about some of it.”
“What?” My eyes fly open. “About what is he right?”
“Only the part where you married him because your heart was broken.” Tessa's shoulders sag. “I'm almost sure of that. And it was a terrible choice.”
“You want the truth?” I ask.
She doesn't answer. She just watches me, eyes locked on my face like she's bracing for impact.
“Six months after you left, I still checked my phone every morning for a message from you,” I say.
The words scrape on the way out. “Half a year waking up with hope you'd changed your mind.
That you'd tell me you were coming back.
That you'd admit it was all a mistake.” I have to look away.
I take a deep breath and keep going. “And I was so empty. So completely wrecked. When Nate showed up with his fake smile and even faker promises, I thought that must be love. Something comfortable. Predictable. Not the kind of thing that splits your heart into a million pieces.”
“Zoe...”
“The worst part is I created the problems I have now,” I say, voice raw, “because it's true I never loved him. Not for real. Not one day. He knew it. I knew it. I guess we both settled. He moved up at work because of me, and I...” My throat tightens.
“I pretended I was happy. Because having someone beside me, even the wrong person, felt better than being alone with the hole you left.”
When I look back at Tessa, her eyes are closed. Her jaw trembles just a little.
“And being with you now... scares me,” I admit, taking her hand in both of mine. She opens her eyes, surprise flickering across her face.
“It scares you to be with me?”
“Yes.” I let out a long breath. “What I feel for you. Always. Since I met you at the university. Since the first time you shoved me against a wall and kissed me in that hallway after training.” My voice drops.
“Tessa, I swear the world stopped in that second.
And every day after that, when we're together, I feel it again. Nate never made me feel that. Nobody made me feel that. Only you.”
“Zoe...”
“Let me talk,” I push out, because if I stop, I might fall apart.
“And as crazy as it sounds, I'd rather have the terror.
I'd rather fear losing you again, fear loving you so much it hurts when the day ends, than spend the rest of my life wondering what would've happened if I'd been braver.” My chest aches.
“Because you know what's the saddest part?
When Nate had sex with me, I thought about you so I could keep going.
That's six years. So yes, I'm a bastard to him, and you're a bastard to me for leaving and dropping me.” I huff a humorless laugh.
“Now he's being a bastard about Wesley's custody.
Guess nobody gets out clean. There aren't any good people here.
We're all the villains. Does that answer your question?” I whisper, brows lifting.
Tessa doesn't answer with words.
She smiles, faint. She leans toward me.
Slow.
Her hand slides to the back of my neck.
And she kisses me.
God. She kisses me like she's never kissed me before. Like the times we're together these past days don't count. Like her body can't take another second without me. I meet her, and my hands slip under her shirt. I search for more. I need more.
I fumble through her buttons, fast, clumsy. She yanks my T-shirt up. We're a mess of hands and breath and little sounds we swallow between mouths. Before I can catch up, I'm on my back on the couch, half naked, Tessa straddling me, her lips moving over my neck, my shoulder, my chin.
I unzip her pants and slide my fingers in, finding her slick heat while she tugs my pajama pants down, taking my underwear with them.
“You're beautiful,” she hisses, kissing my stomach.
A breath punches out of me.
“What?” she asks, lifting her head.
“Nothing.”
“Zoe...”
“It's just... it's not like before, I guess,” I admit.
I don't finish. I don't have to. She knows what I mean.
Tessa used to spend hours tracing my abs with her fingertips, kissing them like she could live there.
I didn't lose them completely, but before pregnancy it was different.
Now faint stretch marks cross my belly. My hips are a little wider.
My breasts are different after months of nursing.
Tessa looks at me, rolls her eyes like I'm ridiculous, and smiles. Then she kisses a stretch mark.
Slow.
With a careful tenderness that makes my throat burn.
“You made life, Zoe,” she whispers against my skin. “This body did something extraordinary.”
I run my fingers through her hair while she kisses me.
It feels different from the other times.
Slower. More aware. Tonight Tessa maps my skin like it's the first time. Every curve. Every change. The places that shift and the places that stay the same.
Her mouth moves from my throat to my collarbone to the soft valley between my breasts. Each kiss feels like a question. Each small sound I make is an answer.
“Tessa. Please,” I breathe.
“Please, what?”
“I'm soaked.”
Her fingertips glide over my stomach. She draws circles around my belly button, gets close, doesn't quite touch where I need her. Teasing. Testing me. Making me shake.
And when her right hand slides between my legs and she feels how wet I am, the world drops out.
It's exactly how I remember. Wilder than the last few days. The same intensity. The same fire. The same hunger.
She moves her fingers inside me in a rhythm my body knows even if my mind tries to pretend it forgot, and every time she pushes, her palm brushes my clit, and my back arches off the couch.
“Look at me,” she orders.
I open my eyes. I don't even realize they're closed.
Her gaze holds me while the pleasure builds. Slow. Certain. Like a wave that's going to break any second.
“I love you,” I choke out.
I bite my lip and clutch the blanket draped over the couch to keep from screaming, but a long, rough breath spills from my throat.
Tessa doesn't pull her fingers out. Not until I stop shaking. Not until my body loosens, spent and satisfied.
Then she kisses my forehead. Soft. Careful. Like we just did something sacred.
**
Morning shows up too fast.
Wesley fusses through the monitor at six-thirty. I groan into the pillow, half asleep, wrecked in the best way.
“I've got him,” Tessa says.
“No, you don't have to—”
She's already out of bed, grabbing my T-shirt off the floor to cover herself.
I stay down, listening through the monitor, and I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face.
“Morning, champ,” Tessa tells the baby, her voice rough with sleep. “How'd you sleep? Better than us, for sure. Although I'll admit, we have a great time.”
Wesley babbles something that sounds like a complaint.
“I know, I know. The diaper. We fix that.” A pause. “Oh wow. That smell. No wonder you're mad.”
I hear little noises. Something that sounds like a raspberry on a belly. Wesley's laugh. Then quiet.
“Okay, you're set.” Tessa's voice goes warm. “See? Much better. Let's get breakfast. You're hungry, right? What do you want? Puree? Bottle? Both?”
More babbling.
“Both. Good choice. That's precisely what I'm thinking,” she says as she walks out of the nursery.
I smile into the pillow. Hearing her talk to my kid like that makes my chest go soft in a way I don't know how to fight.
Fifteen minutes later she comes back into my bedroom with Wesley in her arms. The baby wears a clean onesie and a look of deep satisfaction.
“Someone in here was hungry,” Tessa announces. “And a little poopy,” she adds, climbing onto the bed and setting the kid between us.
Wesley rolls over, plays with a loose strand of hair that escapes Tessa's ponytail, and says something that sounds like “Teh.”
The smile that spreads across Tessa's mouth is unreal.