Chapter 10
10
Lexi
Long after I’m tucked into bed with the door open in case Tom needs me during the night, I’m still thinking about him following doctors’ orders so he can spend as much time with me as “humanly possible.”
High school Lexi would’ve been writing Lexi + Tom in her notebooks with hearts all around it if Tom Hammett had said such a thing to her. Hell, she’d done that without having exchanged a single word with him.
Widowed Lexi had learned to be guarded and cautious about allowing people to become too important, especially people with a potentially faulty heart. I simply couldn’t bear to lose another person I love. And yes, I love Tom. While being an amazing friend, he’s also given me an up close and personal view of what a relationship with him might be like.
I appreciate that he hasn’t put an ounce of pressure on me for more than friendship. It took a health crisis for his true feelings to emerge, and now that I know how he feels, I can’t un-hear it or un-know it. Not that I’d want to.
Being with him gives me a warm, cozy vibe. He’s begun to feel like home to me, and not just because we live under the same roof.
Once upon a time, Jim was home to me, so I know what it’s like to find that in another person.
Allowing my relationship with Tom to turn romantic would take a massive amount of courage, especially after his heart attack. What if he has another one? What if I wake up one day and he’s dead in bed next to me? That happened to Joy. Her perfectly healthy husband died in his sleep. Tom isn’t perfectly healthy—not anymore. He intends to be again, but is that a realistic goal?
I understand that if I allow myself to fall in love again, one day—hopefully when we’re old and gray—I may find myself in a caretaking role again. What I can’t fathom is doing it again any time soon.
My stomach aches when I think about losing Tom, which is when I realize it’s already far too late to protect myself from grief where he’s concerned. If anything happens to him, I’ll be as devastated as I was to lose Jim.
“Goddamn it,” I whisper into the darkness. “When the hell did that happen?”
Slowly. One pot of coffee, one lunch, one dinner, one animated conversation after another. He’s worked his way into my heart with his kindness, generosity, thoughtfulness and companionship. He’s made me feel less alone with my grief, even if we rarely speak of Jim, his illness, our marriage or any of the hard stuff.
Is it too late to text Iris?
Probably not. She’s a night owl.
What do you do when you find out a guy wants more with you than friendship and you think by saying no you’re protecting yourself from more grief, but then you realize it’s already too late for that kind of protection where he’s concerned? Or when you find out he had such a crush on you in HS and that he DIDN’T GO TO HIS SR PROM bc he couldn’t go with you bc you were too young (according to his mother)??!?
If anyone will understand this dilemma, it’s Iris, who’s been through it herself with Gage.
I see the bubbles that indicate she’s typing and wait breathlessly for what she has to say.
First, holy SHIT on the prom and the mutual crush. That makes me feel like you two were fated or something. The rest of it is a conundrum for certain. If you walked away before anything more happened, you’d wonder “what if” for the rest of your life. If you stay, you’ll worry about lightning striking twice—and not in a good way. There’s no easy way out of loving someone.
God, if she didn’t sum up my quandary in one simple paragraph.
I’m mad at myself for not realizing it was too late to run for my life until it was too late to run for my life.
She responds with laughter emojis.
It’s not funny!
It’s kinda funny. The rest of us could see that you were falling for him, but you didn’t see it yourself?
Not really. I had him firmly in the friend zone because that’s all I was capable of at the time.
And now?
I DO NOT KNOW!
Yes, you do—and that’s the problem.
I hate you right now.
HAHAHAHAHA.
I don’t really hate you (said out of fear of ever losing my Iris).
I know you don’t—and no need for fear. I’m right here where I’ll always be.
Widows know better than to make promises like that, but she also knows what I need to hear.
It’s okay to care about Tom, Lex. He seems like a fantastic guy, and he’s been so good to you as a friend. That’s a nice place to start.
What about his faulty ticker?
What about my breast cancer? What keeps Gage here after that?
I don’t like to think about her cancer scare.
Hint—he decided he’d rather be with me for whatever time we have together than to be without me. Look at what Adrian just endured during Wynter’s pregnancy, having to dread every day that the same thing would happen to her as happened to Sadie.
Adrian’s wife died hours after delivering their son, Xavier.
When you put it like that…
Everything is a risk. Allowing all of you into my life after losing Mike was a risk. Not only did I fall in love with the best group of friends I’ve ever had, but I also took on your grief and you took on mine. But I wouldn’t trade my Wild Widows for anything.
Neither would I. I have no idea where I’d be if it weren’t for you guys.
Same. I like your Tom. I like how he stepped up for you without wanting anything in return other than your friendship.
After he told me about his HS crush on me… What I would’ve done for that info back in the day!
If you’d known that, you might’ve missed out on loving Jim.
I thought of that, and I wouldn’t have wanted to miss him.
Things happen the way they’re meant to, or so I’d like to believe.
I guess so. Everything just feels so BIG when I think about an actual relationship with Tom.
Forgive me for saying this, but you’ve been in a relationship with Tom almost a year already. You’re just thinking about making it official at this point.
Why do you have to be such a smarty-pants?
LOL. My curse in life.
More like your gift. Thanks for chatting so late.
No problem. Gage is sound asleep, and I was reading.
You two give me courage…
Aw, that’s sweet of you to say. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s worth it. I promise. Jim would want you to be happy, right?
Yes, that was his most pressing concern after he was diagnosed.
Then you need to give yourself permission…
Trying.
Sending you love and hugs.
Thank you for always knowing what I need most.
You’ve got this, Lex. I have faith in you!
Sleep well.
You, too.
Not sure how I’ll ever sleep with all these thoughts running around in my head. My heart is beating so fast, I worry that I might be having my own cardiac incident.
Now that I know how he feels about me, it’s harder to deny that underneath the friendship, something else has been simmering, waiting for me to be ready for it.
I think about Roni falling for Derek not that long after her husband was killed. She was nowhere near ready for him and held him off until she was, while he stood by her side as she prepared to welcome her late husband’s baby. They’re another example of two people who’ve been through the worst and found a new life with each other.
Iris and Gage, Adrian and Wynter… All around me are examples of people who had every good reason to stay hidden behind the cloak of their grief. But in every case, they chose to live again rather than hide from the pain.
I want to be courageous like them.
I like what Iris said about Gage choosing to spend whatever time they have left with her, even knowing there’s a chance he could lose her prematurely.
Even if Tom had never had a heart attack, there’s no end to the list of things that could befall him on any given day. Oddly enough, that thought brings me a measure of comfort.
If I’ve learned anything from Jim’s illness and death, it’s that living life to the fullest means managing the pain of loss. There’s no escaping it. I like the saying I learned from my widow friends that life is a fatal illness, because none of us is getting out of here alive.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly, comforted by the reminder that we’re all going to die eventually. Some of us will get much less time than others, which will never seem fair or just, but there’s nothing we can do about that other than appreciate each day for the gift that it is.
As I turn on my side and try to find a comfortable position, I close my eyes and hope for sleep, so I won’t be a wreck tomorrow. While sleep remains elusive, all I can think about are the things Tom said to me. I hear the words in his voice, and I smile.
Life doesn’t come with guarantees. I know that all too well. But I want the same thing he does, and as soon as the time is right and he’s feeling better, I’ll tell him so.
Tom and I spend the entire weekend together. We laze around watching movies and relaxing after the stressful week. We don’t talk any more about serious stuff for now, and I get the sense that he’s processing it all, the same way I am. I have no doubt we’ll discuss it again when we’re ready to.
Cora and her family are in and out between soccer games on Saturday, and Lydia and Rick come by on Sunday morning for a last visit before they return home to Minnesota.
They bring fresh berries and bagels with cream cheese for breakfast.
The four of us sit around Tom’s dining room table for an hour, chatting about everything other than what brought them to town before they get up to leave for their noon flight out of Dulles.
Lydia hugs Tom for a long time, and when she pulls back, she has tears in her eyes. “Don’t do that to me again, you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Thanks for saving his life, Lexi,” Lydia says when she hugs me.
“Happy to help.”
Tom gives me a sweet smile when I say that.
He shakes hands with Rick, promises to talk to them soon and then waves them off when they leave in their rental car.
“Phew.” Tom comes slowly up the stairs to the living room, where I’ve settled with a fresh cup of coffee. “That’s one less supervisor to put up with around here.”
“She loves her baby brother.”
“And I love her, but she’s a lot.” He settles in the recliner and turns to face me. “Not that I blame her for that. She had to step up to help with me when our dad died, so it became almost second nature for her to mother me.”
“It’s very sweet how much they care about you.”
“It is. Don’t get me wrong. I’m very thankful for both of them, but I’m also fiercely independent, so having them hovering over me for days has been stressful.”
“I get that. You just want things to return to normal.”
“Yes, that’s it exactly, and I want them to leave us alone so we can hang out without them in the middle of it.”
My face heats when his meaning registers. He wants to be alone with me, without fear of his sisters popping in. “What do you think is going to happen, tiger? You’re only a few days removed from a heart attack and stent procedure.”
He flexes his considerable biceps. “I’m feeling stronger every day.”
“All well and good, but you’re not doing a single thing to exert yourself until you’re medically cleared.”
“You could do all the work.”
“Tom!”
His laughter is cut short by pain that makes him groan. “You’re not supposed to be making me laugh.”
“Then quit saying outrageous things.”
“How is that outrageous?”
“Behave. You’re still recovering, and all you’re going to do is sit in the chair and watch movies. If you’re very good, I may even allow some football later.”
“What would constitute being very good?”
This new flirtatious side of him is all new to me, and I can’t deny I’m enjoying sparring with him, even if I’m still a little frightened about where it’s heading. The thought of having sex with someone who isn’t Jim has been overwhelming since it first became clear that his life would be cut short, and I’d be forced to go on without him.
“Earth to Lexi, come in, Lexi. I need to know how I’m going to earn some football around here.”
“By relaxing and resting and not talking about things that aren’t going to happen today.”
He gives me a sweet, tender look. “But they may happen at some point? If I’m very good?”
“Tom…”
The footrest on the recliner drops so suddenly that it startles me. He gets up and comes over to sit next to me on the sofa. “Lexi.”
“Yes?”
“You’re beautiful and sweet, and all I think about is kissing you.”
“That is not all you think about!”
“It really is.” He reaches out to caress my face, and the soft swipe of his fingers over my skin sets off a body-wide reaction. Tom Hammett wants to kiss me. From deep inside the recesses of my soul, teenage Lexi is doing handsprings.
“How is that possible when you’re recovering from a health emergency while continuing to run your company?”
“It’s a problem, as you can imagine. There are other things I should be thinking about, but every thought in my head is about you.”
“That sounds like a serious problem.”
“It’s very serious, and it might be good if we just, you know, kissed or something so I could start thinking about something other than how much I want to kiss you.”
I’m very much aware that everything will change if I lean in to give him what he wants. And let’s be honest, I want it, too. But do I want everything to change? Do I want to cross that invisible line between friendship and romance, knowing that once it’s done, it can never be undone? In the “before,” a kiss was a simple thing between two people who were getting to know each other. In the “after,” it’s so much more complicated than that.
I lean in ever so slightly, no more than an inch closer to him.
He does the same, leaving less than an inch between us now, his piercing blue eyes conveying a wealth of emotion and affection, all of it directed at me. “It’s gotta come from you, Lex.” His voice is gruff and sexy. “I’ll never push you for anything you’re not ready for.”
“I have coffee breath.”
His huff of laughter breaks the tension that’s built to concerning levels inside me. “Ask me if I care.”
“Do you care?”
He shakes his head. “Not about coffee breath. About you? I care very much.”
“I haven’t kissed anyone since Jim.”
“I know, and I get that it’s a big deal. If you’re not ready, that’s totally fine.”
“Is it?”
His gaze shifts to my lips. “Yeah, it is. You’re the boss. We’re on your timetable.”
“I want to kiss you.”
Now he’s looking into my eyes again. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Like, um, now?”
“Now would be good.”
“Your move, sweetheart.”
I appreciate, more than he’ll ever know, that he’s left the ball completely in my court, which proves that he not only understands what a big deal this is for me, but he respects my right to decide when and where and with whom. I place my hand on his face, and his eyes close as he seems to absorb the impact of my touch, as if it’s something he’s longed for.
I call on every bit of courage I can find to close that final inch that stands between friendship and romance. Every minute we’ve spent together runs through my mind like a beautiful story that’s played out one meal and one cup of coffee and one conversation and one laugh at a time. This man has been there for me. He’s made my life easier and better by offering me a place to be when I needed one so badly. But more than that, he’s given me himself, time and time again, with no pressure or expectations or anything other than exactly what I needed.
Nothing is certain in this thing called life. Our time together could be brief, or it could span decades. No one ever knows what they’re going to get ahead of time, and even knowing what I do now about his family history and the near miss of his heart attack, I want to be with him.
I touch my lips to his, giving him the lightest brush of lip against lip.
He sucks in a sharp deep breath, and his eyes open, as if he doesn’t want to miss a second of this. “Lexi.”
“Yes, Tom?”
“Do it again.”
This time when I press my lips against his, I linger, taking in the sensations that course through me from the barest of caresses.
His left hand joins the right one on my face, tipping my head to improve the angle as he takes over, sliding his lips over mine.
Like a spark landing on dry tinder, I’m a wildfire of emotion and need as the feeling of desire comes back to me in a tsunami. I’d forgotten what it was like to want this, to need it, to crave it.
I curl my hand around his neck and part my lips, inviting him to take more.
“Lex. Are you sure? You’re okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you?”
“I’ve never been better in my whole life than I am right now.”
That’s a pretty great endorsement for a girl who hasn’t been kissed in years. I give a gentle tug to bring him back to me.
This time, our mouths are open, his tongue is teasing mine, and I’m completely lost to him.
I’m not sure how or when we end up stretched out on the sofa, arms wrapped around each other as we kiss like two people who’ve been separated for years and have finally come back together.
Should he be doing this? Not even that thought can convince me to stop the loveliest thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. I trust Tom to know his own limits, and judging by the way he’s kissing me, he’s not thinking about limits. I lose track of time and place and everything that isn’t his lips and tongue and the way his hand slides down my back to cup my ass and pull me in tight against his erection.
That’s when I come to my senses. “Tom.”
“Lexi.”
“That’s enough.”
His groan against my neck sends shivers down my spine as he kisses every bit of skin he can reach. “Not enough.”
“You shouldn’t be worked up this way.”
“Never felt better.”
“Tom.”
He sighs as he rests his head on my shoulder. “I knew it would be like that with you.”
“Like what?”
He keeps his head on my shoulder when he says, “My whole life, I’ve heard people go on and on about how crazy they were about their spouse or girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever. I’ve never experienced that. For me, it was always kind of transactional. Sex is fun, so let’s have sex and have fun. I never understood why people made such a big deal about it. But that… with you… Now I get it.”
I feel like I’ve been wrapped away in storage or something, waiting to be wanted and needed this way again, and now that it’s happening, I’m set free of the worries and fears that have kept me from taking this next step with him before now. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close while we try to catch our breath.
“I hope it’s okay to tell you that.”
“It’s very okay.”
“I used to think I was crazy for thinking about a girl I never even knew back in school, knowing you were married and off-limits. Now I know there was nothing crazy about it except for how right I was back then.”
“I never stopped wondering about you, even after I was married. I was afraid to ask about you because it felt dangerous to go there. But I thought of you.”
“I can’t believe I’m finally holding you, that I got to kiss you and that it was the best kiss of my whole life.”
“It’s pretty surreal.”
“I’m going to want to hold you as much and as often as I can for, well… ever.”
“Easy does it. While you’re recovering, we’re not getting worked up like that again.”
“I’m already worked up like that again.”
“Tom! Stop.”
His snort of laughter makes me smile.
“I read that people who have sex after a heart attack are less likely to die than people who don’t.”
“You’re making that up!”
“I’m not. I swear to God. There was a study over twenty-two years or something that proved it.”
“I’m going to need to see that.”
“I’ll send you a link.”
“Excellent.”
“Have I been good enough to earn some football this afternoon?”
“I suppose so, as long as you keep your hands to yourself and your heart rate down.”
As if I’ve issued a challenge, his hand travels up from my waist to cup my breast and tease my nipple. It feels so good that I want to purr, but then I remember why he shouldn’t be exerting himself this way. “That’s it, mister.” I give a careful push to move him so I can escape from the sofa before I forget why we can’t do everything right this minute.
“I’m so glad I didn’t die before I knew what it was like to kiss Lexi Nelson.”