Chapter 30 Emma #2
I sink back into my seat and grab my Kindle as Steven and the boys begin playing the rainbow car game. After a few rounds of red, yellow, and blue spotting, Steven leans over and pinches my hip.
“I see what you did there,” he murmurs.
“What are you talking about?” I muse, and he chuckles.
Steven has always been a focused man, avoiding distractions at all costs if he can.
But right now, he needs it. He needs a few hours of childlike play before he’s hit with reality.
I can’t prepare him for what’s to come, so if playing the rainbow car game can distract him from his distractions, then so be it.
I point out a green BMW, and he smirks, looking grateful.
We stop for gas an hour later. The boys are buried in their tablets for the final stretch of the drive, and Josie is content with a crinkle toy, happily fed.
I walk out with a coffee for Steven. He takes one sip and moans.
It’s a low, indulgent sound that sends a warm, addictive pulse straight through me.
“You’re the best,” he declares, dragging out the words as he takes another slow sip.
His throat bobs, and I can’t resist it. My fingers trail along his collarbone, up the warm column of his neck, to the rough line of stubble on his jaw.
With the cup still pressed to his lips, his eyes darken, and he grabs my waist, tugging me impossibly close.
“You can’t do that,” he growls, lips brushing my ear.
“What are you talking about?” I whisper, sliding my arm around his waist. It feels almost ridiculous how natural this kind of touch has become between us again.
I’m never this bold with Present-day Steven—not lately, anyway.
The thought of putting myself out there for him made me feel exposed…
embarrassed, even. As if showing my desire would break whatever rigid routine we’d boxed ourselves into.
But now, with the handsy, lovestruck Steven of fifteen years ago, I feel bolder. Like his younger self grants me permission to be the younger version of myself too.
“We’re in public,” he says, kissing my neck.
“I just brought you coffee,” I say innocently.
Then he chugs the coffee and tosses the cup into the trash without breaking eye contact.
His heated gaze devours me, as if we’re completely alone and not standing in front of a QuikTrip.
Then both of his hands slide around my waist, pulling me close.
His body presses into mine, heart hammering against my chest, stomach taut beneath me.
I go hot and weak in his arms as he kisses me.
It’s deep and hungry yet still restrained.
“Can I say something crazy?” he asks between kisses.
“I love crazy,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“I’m crazy about you,” he says against my mouth. And I believe him. I let the words wrap around me, suddenly feeling weightless as he kisses me one final time.
“What were you guys doing?” Easton asks once we’re back in the car. He eyes us suspiciously, and we both wince like we’ve been caught.
“Hugging and kissing,” Steven says proudly.
“Gross.”
“Why do you have to do that?” Sawyer asks, visibly grossed out.
“Because your mom is amazing,” Steven tells them then turns to me and my cheeks heat under his gaze. “I don’t want her to forget it.”
“But you haven’t been doing that.” Easton frowns, as if he’s not fully understanding everything. And he’s right, even I’m not fully understanding the feelings I’m having toward Steven right now. Are they new? Are they old?
Steven clears his throat and shifts in his seat then bravely asks him, “Does it bother you that I do it now?”
I watch Easton from the rearview as he ponders this question. His gaze bounces between us, eyes narrowed and finger tapping his chin. He’s actually giving it some thought. Finally, he shrugs. “No, it’s okay.” Then he goes back to his book as if nothing happened.
“I think you should get a room,” Sawyer deadpans.
“Oh, we will,” Steven fires back, and I can’t help but laugh.
The boys groan dramatically as Steven makes kissy faces in the mirror. Their bickering fills the cab, swirling around me in a sweet, familiar way.
As we near the end of our drive, the boys have dozed off while Josie plays with her hands, and Steven and I listen to the soft melody of George Strait.
“All My Ex’s Live in Texas” croons ironically as we cross the Oklahoma-Texas border.
The afternoon sun hangs high, illuminating the clear-blue sky and spilling gold across the fields around us.
“Em?” Steven whispers, and I hum in response, letting the sun warm my face through the window. “Can I ask one thing?” I hear the regret in his voice, circling back to the topic that we so diligently distracted ourselves from.
I push my sunglasses up to the top of my head and face him, resting my head against the seat, and nod.
“Do we like being parents?” Steven asks quietly, and the question startles me.
“I think so,” I say gently. “What do you think?”
“I think so too.” A reminiscent kind of smile glides across his face, and it sends a glow of affection spreading through me.
“So, what’s troubling you then?” I ask, noting the furrow of his brow.
He laughs under his breath, as if he’s forgotten I can see right through him.
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “It all feels so…right. Being here with you and with them. I’m trying to figure out where it went wrong.
I know things aren’t good; I could feel it in the hospital.
” These words seem to agonize him as he forces them out.
“I can’t wrap my head around it. If I didn’t do anything, you know, big…
to cause this distance…”—he pauses to glance back at the kids then at me—“how did we get here?”
I don’t respond, not knowing what to say. I can tell him the facts, the things that have happened, avoiding how it’s naturally torn us apart. But the truth is there, lingering like a black cloud.
“Is this what happens when you’re together for so long?” he asks, scratching his fingers through his hair. “Life gets hard and pushes you apart?”
It hurts, hearing him say that. What should I say?
How do I explain that it’s more than that?
It’s not just time, or the lies or loss.
It’s the void that’s opened between us. A void so vast its felt almost impossible to close.
Like a black hole in space, pulling everything around it into the dark, swallowing it until there’s nothing left.
I inhale slowly, trying to steady myself. In my chest, the monster is awake, stirring. Listening. As if this conversation and these thoughts are enough to agitate it. We haven’t even broached the topic of my anxiety and the role Steven plays in it. I don’t even know if we should.
“I think,” I finally say, “people change.”
Silence threatens to swallow the car. He lets out a defeated sigh. “Well, alright, then.”
“Is that it?” I ask skeptically.
He smiles half-heartedly, turning down the ten-mile dirt road that leads to his parents’ ranch. “You said you wanted joy, and we have about twenty minutes left.”
I study him for a long moment before I inevitably surrender. “Fine. One more question. Then we roll the windows down and listen to Dixie Chicks. Deal?”
A pitiful sound escapes him, but he nods in agreement. I sit up a little straighter, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. I reach for him but think better of it, pressing my hands between my knees instead. “Steven…what is it?”
His lip trembles. He blinks hard, rubbing at his eyes before he manages, “Have I…already lost you?”
The words hit me like an air bag, sudden and violent, knocking the air out of everything vital inside me.
A month ago, this question might’ve made me uncomfortable, but right now, it’s excruciating.
Tears rapidly sting my eyes, hot and insistent.
My chest tightens, and my throat burns with the words I want to say.
“Emma…” Steven’s voice cracks.
“Steven, I—”
“We’re here!” Sawyer shouts, now wide awake, bouncing as we pass the Jones Family Ranch sign.
“We’re here, bud.” Steven forces a smile, dragging a hand over his eyes, trying to look composed.
A selfish rush of relief hits me at the interruption. Not because I’m avoiding the truth, but because I don’t have an answer. And the fact that I don’t terrifies me more than anything else.