EPILOGUE
Wendy
October
The thing about healing is that it's slow.
It needs to be. You can't force it, you can't cut corners, whether you've been hurt physically or emotionally.
I've been hurt both ways over this last year, but as I sit here, next to my husband at our bi-weekly couple's therapy appointment, I feel whole and healed and so damn happy.
I have zero regrets for forgiving my husband.
My hand is in Atlas', his big paw warm and soothing as his thumb strokes mine.
Catching his gaze, I give him a bright smile. He returns with a wink that promises me a good time later. Good times have definitely been had, especially since I was cleared for sex back in July.
Physical therapy is hard, and I'm still attending once a week, down from three, as I had to get used to walking again.
I've started doing Yoga with Taylor and Bonnie, which has really been helping with strengthening my legs and hips again. Atlas seems to like the firmness and flexibility I've acquired now.
My physical pain mirrors my emotional pain, as both flare up sometimes when I least expect them, but my husband and my children are always there to ease me through it.
When I think of last year, being alone, feeling insecure and guilty all the time, it hurts, but it's more like an echo that I suspect will fade completely one day.
That's also the thing about healing—it's day by day.
Some days I feel good, whole, and happy; other days, broken down and drained.
But that's life, and some of it is out of our control.
Life is really just one battle after the next.
The thing is, though, when you have the right people beside you, it doesn't feel as daunting. Especially since I always have Atlas in my corner. He understands me and the work I do for us clearly now, so our new normal has been wonderful.
Atlas now handles school drop-offs, giving me some time in the morning for myself. In August, once I was healed enough, I went back to working at Mabel's, only a couple of days a week, and only in the back office, running the numbers and making the daily deposit.
I'm still done in time for school pick up.
Liam started high school last month, which feels incredibly odd that I now have a high schooler and a fourth grader.
As much as things change, some things remain the same.
Noah is still my little sunshine boy who makes the room brighter by just being here and can make friends with anyone.
He still goes to art class, still filling our walls with his paintings and drawings of happy little trees.
He's still sensitive and sweet, checking in with his father or me about how we're feeling, giving us hugs and kisses when we need them.
Liam's turning fifteen in December and has adjusted to freshman year easily. He hit another big growth spurt over the summer, shooting up a couple more inches and having his shoulders broaden from working out with his dad.
He's still dating his Birdie, who's a frequent flyer at the Durant house. When I pick Liam up from school, Birdie is usually right next to him, climbing into the backseat with him and saying softly, "Thank you, Mrs. Durant."
When someone calls me by that name now, I don't feel that sourness in my belly. It's who I am.
I am Wendy Durant.
Yes, I'm Atlas' wife.
Yes, I'm Liam and Noah's Mama.
But, I'm also Wendy, a person on my own, with a job—or two or three—with interests and thoughts and flaws and strengths.
I don't feel a loss of identity anymore. I feel as though I've reclaimed myself, and every day I don't feel as overwhelmed as I used to, because I can ask for help.
I can have my boys do chores without feeling guilty.
I can speak my mind to my husband without second-guessing my words or worrying about upsetting him.
My thoughts, feelings, and work do matter, even if one of my jobs is taking care of the home.
My work is recognized and appreciated. I got to work at Mabel's and earn an income that's partly deposited into our joint account, and the other is in my personal account, which Atlas always encourages me to treat myself—getting my hair or nails done, new clothes, or whatever I want.
Our therapist encouraged us to spend time apart as well, that although spending time together will strengthen our marriage, we also need time to miss each other.
That was something we were hesitant to do because our whole issue was the distance, but Dr. D'Amore said—and even Dr. Pace agreed — that we needed to test our relationship with distance: can we bounce back after being apart for a couple of hours while out with friends?
The answer turned out to be absolutely.
In fact, when we reunite, we ignite.
Atlas still works with Trace on the weekends sometimes, not as frequently though, only on the big projects that Trace needs some extra hands on.
Atlas, Trace, and Trey will go out to the bar together to hang out, or they'll come over to have a fire outside that Liam likes to join in on. The grandparents get their grandson time then, which they love, and the boys love it too.
On those nights, Taylor, Bonnie, and I will go out dancing or stay in for girls' night, and I can honestly say that as my friendships improved, so did my marriage.
Because we miss each other, while knowing that we're going to see each other again when we get home...
And when we get home, we show each other how much we've missed each other.
Last month, I was out at the bar with two lemon drops giving me some confidence. So I went into the bathroom and sent Atlas a sexy photo of myself with a text warning him to open when alone.
When I got home that night, he met me at the door and ate my pussy right there in the foyer until I was boneless.
Our lovemaking has gotten even better than before, which was pretty fucking good. I feel more connected to Atlas than I've ever been, and I think he feels the same.
I tell him everything that's on my mind, not worried that I sound like I'm complaining or nagging, because I expect the same in return.
Atlas isn't cured of his mental illness.
He never will be, but he has a complete handle on it—he keeps up with his therapy, he even had his parents, Silas, and me join one session with Dr. Wilson where they were able to talk about Carrie's death, the suicide attempt, and Atlas withdrawing into himself.
Lot of tears and hugs through that session and we came out on the other side stronger than ever.
Atlas is right, there are no villains here, and we always need to remember that.
Dr. D'Amore always says to look at issues that come up in our marriage not as Atlas vs. Me, but as Us vs. the issue.
When you frame it like that, you feel unstoppable. My husband is the strongest man I've ever met, and I'm so fortunate to have him on my team, fighting his way back to us.
And I'll always fight my way back to him.
Always.
"Alright, I see you making cow eyes at each other," Dr. D'Amore chuckles, causing Atlas and me to realize that we've been staring at each other for God knows how long.
I feel my cheeks flush, but Atlas just shrugs, pleased with himself. "I'm going to actually recommend dropping these to once a month. We've made incredible progress; you guys are doing the work at home."
"Thanks, Doc," Atlas smiles, glancing at me and seeing my nod of approval. "That would be great."
"Get out of here," she says with a broad smile, and Atlas stands before helping me as well.
I don't need to use my walker and cane anymore, when I know I'm walking a short distance, but my hip still aches when I sit for too long.
Isn't that funny? I can't stand for too long without my hip aching, and I can't sit for too long without my hip aching.
Dr. King said at my last check-in that the pain should fade over time. Ain't that the damn truth.
Atlas wraps an arm around my waist, just cause, and guides us out of the office to the parking lot. It's a warm October day, the sun just starting to set.
Atlas glances down at his phone when it buzzes, a smile spreading across his face that he tries to hide. He quickly types something back and then puts his phone back in his pocket.
"What?" I laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Can I take you somewhere?"
"And where's that?"
"Our spot."
"Lead the way, Mr. Durant," I say, and then squeal when Atlas sweeps me up in his arms and bridal carries me to the truck. "Atlas!"
"What?" Atlas grunts, shrugging his shoulders even while carrying me. Show off. "Daylight's burning, baby."
"You calling me slow?"
"I'm calling you precious," Atlas says, grinning mischievously. "Too precious to walk... and yes, maybe a little slow."
I give a haughty gasp, "How dare you—"
My protest is killed by his lips on mine.
◆◆◆
"Is that…?"
Atlas waves to his Dad, who's grinning from the driver's seat of his truck as he passes us. I frown as we make our way up to our overlook, and then smile when I see our silly boys waving to us.
Atlas parks the car and eyes me to wait while he gets around to my side.
Carefully, he helps me down and we walk over to the picnic waiting for us, no doubt set up by Emmett, Liam, and Noah.
There are some candles lit all around for light as the sun sets, our big outdoor blanket is laid on the ground, and our giant cooler is there. Our little speaker plays music softly, and the boys run over to me to envelop me in a hug.
"Hi, Mama!" Noah chirps, and Liam hugs me too, but he smiles brightly when he looks over my shoulder.
"Hi, my babies," I say, kissing each of their heads. "How did you—Atlas, what are you doing?"
I freeze when I turn around and see my husband kneeling, looking up at me with big, soft brown eyes.
"Wendy, baby," Atlas takes my left hand in his, "I love you. I love you more than words can even say. For a year, I let my fear override that love, and I made stupid decisions to ignore you and our boys. I told you once that I would earn back your love, second by second."
"Atlas, you have..." I say, and he leans forward to press his lips to the back of my hand.
"If this year has taught me anything, it's that I need to treat every single second like it matters.
Because it does. Every second with you and the boys is a gift that I'll never take for granted.
So, Wendy, will you let me keep being married to you, keep treating you like you deserve?
Will you let me love you and protect you for the rest of our lives? "
I'm nodding my head before he even finishes, which makes the smile on his face grow brighter. "Yes, Atlas. Always."
"Always," he echoes, before glancing over to Liam and Noah, who are watching us with smiles on their faces.
Liam reaches into his pocket and tosses a small box to his dad. Atlas smiles before opening it, revealing a gorgeous new diamond ring and a matching band.
"Atlas..."
"I wanted things to remain the same, but I also wanted to start fresh in a way," Atlas says, gently taking my rings from my finger and sliding the new ones on. "And you've been overdue for an upgrade, baby."
It's beautiful. Pear-shaped diamond on gold and a curved diamond wedding band.
He definitely talked to Taylor. The old set I always loved, since Atlas bought it with money from working at Durant Auto during the summers.
I had been pregnant with Liam at the time, and I cried when he proposed here in this exact spot.
Now, all these years later, he's doing the same with our boys here to witness it.
Atlas stands, and I cradle his face in my hands. His beard tickles my palms and I kiss him deeply.
"Ewww...." Noah gags, and we break apart laughing to see Liam playfully shoving his brother.
"You'll understand one day," Liam grins, a lovesick look on his face as he no doubt thinks about Birdie.
"Alright, alright, let's eat," Atlas says, pressing a kiss to my forehead before helping me over to the blanket. He eases us down on it, and Liam opens the cooler, pulling out sandwiches and a bag of chips and our drinks.
As we eat, Atlas gently nudges me and motions to look at the tree.
When I do, my heart warms. Under our initials, Atlas carved a new word in. The perfect word for us.
Always.
There will be more battles.
More heartbreak. More happiness. More laughter. More tears.
More death. More life.
But with my husband by my side, we will face it together.
I love Atlas Durant.
I always have.
And I always will.