Chapter 35 - Nova
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“Good morning, husband,”
I say, kissing along the forearm wrapped around me. He's kept me safely pressed against him all night. Not a nightmare, worry or concern to think about. We've slept with each other a million times but something shifted after our wedding. It's like my mind knows that he’s not going anywhere and I can relax now. His low grumble into my hair is enough for me to know he's waking up. His hands start to explore my body and I can see a lazy grin form as he cups my breasts, rocking his hips into me slightly. His hardness very much awake and poking into my back.
It's not often he’ll still be in bed when I wake up, the stress of the last few days must be catching up with him and he's not woken up at the first sign of the sun. I left a light on in the kitchen last night, explaining that one was enough while he kept the spare night lights on the kitchen table so they were accessible. Just in case. If I'm honest, I didn't even think of them as all the reassurance I needed was already with me.
Extending his arm out, I look over his hand, grinning at the sight of his wedding band. His hands are weathered and worn. There are so many scars you could draw dot-to-dot on his skin, however, the largest of them looks dry and tight. Luckily, I don't have to stretch far to quickly grab my hand cream on the nightstand.
“Mmmmm, what is that smell?”
He purrs, still half asleep behind me. Putting a generous amount on my palm, I start spreading it over his large hands, gently easing it into the jagged scar that takes up so much of his hand.
Over the years when he's used some of my strawberry shampoo or let me try a couple of nail polish shades on his fingers so I can pick the perfect colour. I love it when there's a part of me on him. He even has one of my hair ties on his wrist, just in case, and I push it a little further up his arm so I don't make it greasy, continuing to massage all over his hand.
“That feels good, love, thank you,”
he mumbles, pulling me closer to him. Our size difference means he is well and truly the big spoon, despite my best efforts with the footstool. Snuggling into him, I wonder if this is some plan written by destiny for us to be together. Two people who were forced to face the worst of humanity and for the most part, are happy on the other side of it.
“Do you ever think about them?”
I say, rubbing my fingers over the raised edges of the scar. He's told me a lot of stories over the years, mainly about his time in the Army but every now and then one from his childhood will pop up and my heart shatters for the little boy who they tried to break.
On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, his foster dad was getting drunk with his friends, which was not unusual apparently. Knowing this was his last night there they decided to give him a parting gift and held him down, getting out the circular saw. They left him with his hand almost cut off. The large parting scar I massage, a constant reminder of that night. It's weird to think we are both connected by this monumental birthday. Despite not knowing each other then, on the eve when we should have been welcomed by the rest of society, we both experienced the worst. He always said it was what made him join the army because the recruitment centre was across the road from the hospital. That leaving with nowhere to go, a light shone down on a poster reading come and meet your new family, and so he did.
“Sometimes, but probably not how you imagine. I feel sorry for them. Tyler was the worst of them, but they all gave me a roof over my head and a place to call home no matter how bad it got. I didn't know what family was until I joined the army and I didn't know what love was until I met you. It's kind of the same as what you say about your family. They do the best they can with what they know and if it all leads me here, so I can be with you, then I would take every hit and cruel word all over again.”
His words are lazy and said without much thought, an effortless statement that rolls off his tongue, but they mean everything to me. They give me the understanding that I love him in the same way that he loves me. Quickly turning over, I snuggle into his chest as he wraps his arms around me.
“You taught me what love was too,”
I whisper into his chest, the solid beat of his heart reassuring me that he’s mine.