Chapter 40 Adam
Currently Playing: The Rain Song, Led Zeppelin
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This was the third time I’d woken up to Rachel’s hair spread out on my pillowcase, and I was so thankful to know it wouldn’t be the last. For so long, I just knew I had no chance of having something as sweet as her in my life. How often could you find a woman who tasted like butterscotch and smelled like daisies? Once in my lifetime, apparently. And I wasn’t going to let her slip. Not like I almost had before.
Warm sunlight poured out from the sliver of open space between the curtains in my room, turning Rachel’s blond hair golden on my shoulder. I twisted to breathe in her hair, all floral and pretty and right there, begging for me to run my hands through it. She shifted beside me, stretching and humming, before turning into my side and throwing an arm around my abdomen.
“Morning,” I rumbled.
“Morning.” She took a deep breath and pulled me closer to her side.
“How are you feeling?”
Watching her race yesterday felt like there was a rollercoaster in my chest. A part of me wanted her to keep pushing faster, harder, to reach the potential I knew she had in her. The other part, the biggest part, wanted to scoop her off that track and carry her the rest of the way. To spoil her and hold her and take on the pain for myself. But yesterday meant everything to her and Jack, and I knew there was no way I could take that away, no matter how protective I felt over watching the pain strike across her face with each step.
She groaned. “I hurt. Everywhere. But probably better than I would have if you hadn’t rolled me out last night.”
“You’re welcome.” I snorted.
Her eyes rolled with a smile as she pinched my side.
She wanted to come home instantly and have me take her to bed. I believed her exact words were “Take me to your room and cuddle me until we die.” I did half of that. I did take her to my bed, tossing her up and immediately reaching for the muscle roller I’d bought for her months ago and rolling out her shins. She screamed at certain areas. It broke me, but anytime I stopped, she swore to keep going. So we both suffered through the pain until she passed out, in her running gear and all.
“What are your plans for today?” I asked and took one hand to her back, rubbing up and down.
“Shower, sleep, eat, repeat until I feel normal again.”
I chuckled. “Whatever you want, honey.”
Rachel hummed and leaned farther into me, placing her head on my bare chest and settling into my hold on her waist. “Or we could do something else.”
She waggled her brows like the little deviant I knew she was.
“Absolutely not, Stevie. You need rest.”
“I always feel well rested after being with you.”
I snorted. Yeah, me and her both. She once said I was like a wild panther, but I’d kissed the woman enough times to know she was the untamed animal in this relationship.
“Just one kiss?” she bargained, knowing well and good that saying just one kiss was the same as saying I’ll eat just one chip out of a fresh bag. I’ll just get one tattoo, and never do it again.
But denying her wasn’t something that came naturally, so I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. She hummed happily and leaned farther into me, her leg swinging over my abdomen as my hand lightly caressed her bare thigh under the line of her shorts.
She had no clue, not a single one. She was out there taking care of everyone around her, not realizing she was simultaneously healing every tiny crack in me. She was warmth and sunlight and reminded me of fresh watermelon on the hottest August days. Refreshing and so sweet. Too sweet. Much, much too sweet for me.
My phone buzzed obnoxiously against the nightstand beside me, and I pulled back enough to whisper against her mouth. “Let me turn it off.”
She smiled, slow and sweet and so inviting that I almost decided to chuck the phone through the wall. Her lips moved from my mouth to my cheeks, to my jaw, planting soft kisses as she went.
I grabbed my phone and flinched when I saw the name. Sitting upright, I carefully pulled Rachel off my lap. He only called when there was an emergency. We’d made an agreement that anything he needed, I could handle over email.
I looked back at Rachel, who was staring at my phone and back at me with a head tilt. Guilt coursed through me. I could only imagine what I would feel if I saw someone calling her, and she reacted the way I had. But today was the day I was going to tell her. I couldn’t do it the moment I got home. She had the race coming up, and I didn’t want to break her high if she didn’t take the news well.
“One second, baby.” I stood and answered. “What?” I asked, my tone low but sharp.
“You need to go up there now,” the crotchety old voice answered.
My free hand reached for my hair. I couldn’t —it was more complicated than…
I looked back at Rachel, who had never looked more lost. I wanted to brush my thumb over those furrowed brows and kiss her pursed lips and put her right back to sleep.
“What happened?” I asked in a hurry.
“The store’s flooded, bad. Several pipes burst last night from the water pressure above it. A lot of the merchandise is ruined. Almost all of it.”
My chest ached, and pain shot through my palms. I knew I was going to have to break two pieces of news to my wife today. Both that could potentially break her heart.
I hung up without a goodbye and dropped my phone.
“Who was tha—”
“The store is flooded,” I rushed out, heading for a pair of shoes in my closet. “We need to go now.”
I didn’t provide further details. I wasn’t planning to tell her this way. I had points to make, explanations to give. It wasn’t meant to be some last-minute, forced, hurried confession.
“My—My store?” Her lower lip wobbled, and in that moment, I would have done tremendous things to take myself back six months and start this marriage over. Start it right.
I nodded and rifled through my closet, to avoid her eyes and to grab us both T-shirts. We ran out the door in little more than pajamas, her with those bunny slippers she wore around my house. I attempted to make her stop and slide on real shoes, especially considering she needed arch support desperately right now, but she ignored me, pushing right out the door and to her car. I insisted on driving, and truth be told, I think the only reason she accepted was because her brain was working so fast right now, putting puzzle pieces together. There was no way she could focus on the road.
She wasn’t supposed to find out that way. This was never meant to go this way. Why did he call me right when I had her happily in my arms? None of it could be blamed on anyone but me. I knew that. It would have been nice to chalk this up to some simple mistake, but it wasn’t just one mistake. It was hundreds of chances that I’d lost—no, that I volunteered to give up. Time and I were in a race, and it had won.
The ten-minute drive was silent, the streets of Philadelphia around us still mostly asleep as the sun rose in the distance. My mind raced to piece together an explanation, but did that even matter now? Just when we had things figured out, I had to go and screw it up all over again.
I knew what the risks of marriage were when you didn’t love someone enough. I knew that lost connection meant divorce. But no one ever warns you of the risks when you love someone too much. When you love them to the point of causing pain to them. Because right now, that felt just as heavy on my heart.
We pulled onto the street. The streetlamp lit up enough of the store to see standing water inside. The power was fully out, the brand new neon sign on top now blacked out.
Rachel opened her door without a word and walked toward the entrance as if she was in a trance, her eyes glazed over. She leaned into the glass, two hands cupped around her eyes so she could see in. Her fingers shook, but still, she didn’t say anything. She didn’t cry. She didn’t yell or shout at me. Just stood there silently watching.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys, searching for the one with a yellow cap before putting it into the door lock and twisting it to open. Only then did Rachel look up at me, and that’s when I saw a mixture of fury and confusion swirling in her eyes.