Chapter Twenty-Four #3
I choose him anyway. I choose the man in the rented house who destroyed a petition, who moved to my city without asking me to notice, who put my tea on his counter and a star nightlight in an empty room.
I choose the version of Sterling that exists after the failure, because the version before the failure didn’t know how to be afraid and stay.
This version does.
He finishes at the same time I do. I tighten around his cock, holding onto him with every bit of my body, and he presses closer, clinging to me.
Afterward, we lie tangled on the white sheets in the rented house, and I put my head on his chest because it’s the first time in five years I’ve been able to rest against this man without carrying pain or anger.
I can just focus on feeling the love again, that I banked but never let fully die.
WE TALK FOR HOURS. It’s the first real conversation of our marriage, not the careful negotiations of the estate, nor the loaded silences of the hospital, or the arguments that functioned as pressure valves for years of unprocessed grief.
“Sienna needs preschool.” We had not gone ahead with the tutor after our epic argument, but she’s getting better, and it’s time to plan for the future like we have one.
“There’s a Montessori program near Mission. Small classes, good reviews.”
“I’ll look at it tomorrow.”
I look at him, catching his gaze. “With me. We’ll look at it together.”
“Together. Right.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m still learning that part.”
“I know.” I pull the sheet up over my shoulder. “Hettie’s been watching her for free for two years. We need to start paying her.”
“Hettie won’t take money. I’ve tried.”
“Then we pay her mortgage for a year and tell her it’s a billing error.”
He laughs. It’s quiet and warm, the kind of laugh that happens at one a.m. when two people are lying in the dark figuring out how to rebuild a life. “Do you want to stay in Asheville?”
“Do you?”
“I want to be wherever Sienna is. If that’s Asheville, it’s Asheville. If you wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere without a Myers Park estate or a mother three hours south, I’d go.”
I think about it for a moment. “Asheville is home.”
“Then Asheville is my home now too.”
Sterling tells me about Gil Halloran, about the fund, about the board dynamics he’s been managing remotely.
“I quit my job today. I ended things with Alec too.”
He stiffens. “Alec...Dr. Murphy?” His face spasms. “You were...involved?”
I nod, not holding anything back. “We dated...only dated...for six weeks. He’s a good man, and he deserved better than being locked in limbo while I figured out what I wanted...which is you.”
He looks relieved but still worried. “How...I mean...?” He exhales harshly. “Was there anyone else besides Dr. Murphy? You’d have every right if there was—”
I press my fingers to his lips to quiet him.
“No, never. Alec was the first man who even tempted me to consider dating. I never slept with him or anyone else.” I touch my ring, which is on my neck again.
I had lost it during the lovemaking and put it on as a necklace when pulling it out of the sheets.
“As much as I hated it, I still loved you. I still do.”
His eyes get damp, and his expression softens. “I never dated anyone either. I couldn’t. I told myself it was because I could never trust anyone again, but that wasn’t true. I wasn’t over you.”
“I’m glad.” I hold him for a moment before easing back. “I plan to take off a few weeks to just rest, but there’s an opening at Mission for nurse caseworker, like I’ve been doing. It has regular hours. I’d be home by Sienna’s dinner every night, just like I have been.”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes. I used to prefer busy to boring, but I’d like just a stretch of uninterrupted boring now.” I grin.
“Then take it if you want to or stay home with Sienna.” He puts a hand on my stomach. “We could have a football team if that’s what you want.”
I laugh. “Not that many, and not yet, but I do want more babies.”
He looks relieved. “So do I.”
Beyond the consensus that we want more children in the future, we don’t decide anything. For the first time in five years, not deciding feels like enough.
“Sienna can stay Friday,” I say.
Sterling is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me.
He doesn’t turn around. He takes a while with it, the sentence, the meaning, and the fact that his daughter is going to sleep in the bed he bought for her in the room with the star nightlight.
The orange comforter is going to be wrinkled in the morning. The pillow is going to have a dent.
I cross the room. I stand behind him, close enough that he can feel me there. I don’t touch him, but I stay.
He puts his hand on my hip. “Will you stay too?”
“If you want me to stay Friday, I will.”
He pulls me against him, pressing his head against my belly before looking up at me. “I want you to stay forever, but I’m okay with starting with Friday.”
I straddle him. “Friday going on forever. That sounds like a promise.”
He nods solemnly. “The first of many, and I intend to keep each one.”