59. THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-ONE
ALEX
I guess I died last night, because I’ve woken up in heaven.
Eden’s hair tickles my nose as she lies draped across my chest, one hand resting under her cheek, the other clasped into mine.
It’s sweaty where our bare skin touches, and I’m desperate to pee, but I’d honestly rather piss the bed than leave her right now.
Okay, that’s not true, but I’ve got at least two more minutes before things get really dire.
After we’d finished in the garden last night, we spent twenty more minutes looking up at the sky, too cloudy to see any stars, but content just to be wrapped up in each other.
Then we’d fetched a snoring Macon from the sofa and come home, where we’d had sex again before finally falling asleep in a heap of sticky limbs and synchronized heartbeats.
Now, in the yellow-gold light of morning, there’s only one thought on my mind.
Eden loves me.
Me.
Out of every better man in the world, she chose me. The one too terrified to give her what she deserves, fighting the pull between us at every opportunity, belligerent in my determination to walk away before I get too attached.
Guess it’s too late for that now.
And to be honest, I’m tired of running. It only seems to lead me back to her anyway.
I want her.
I want this.
But I’m self-aware enough to know that I still need some serious help.
So, I pick up my phone from the bedside table and throw off a text to Dr. Sharma, asking if she can fit me in today.
It’s Saturday, so I know it’s a longshot, but my phone immediately beeps with an incoming message, and lo and behold, I have a session with her in an hour’s time.
“What time is it?” a sleepy voice rasps from beside me.
I look down to find Eden blinking bleary eyes up at me, strands of dark hair glued to the side of her face with sweat and quite possibly drool. The woman is fucking adorable. “It’s just after nine.”
“Huh.” She rubs a hand over her face and detaches herself from my chest. I feel instantly bereft. “We slept late.”
“Nine is late for you?”
“Late by Macon’s standards.” She grumbles as she unfurls herself into a sitting position and rests her back against the headboard. “The kid is usually up at dawn. I should go check on him.”
“You do that while I pee.” I throw my legs over the side of the bed, toss on some underwear, and run top speed to the bathroom.
When I return, Macon is bouncing on his knees on the bed, kitted out in navy-blue pajamas dotted with tiny green aliens.
His brow furrows as he first looks over me, then at his mom, whose cheeks have flushed a furious shade of maroon.
Fortunately, she had the foresight to fling on the shirt I discarded on the floor last night, and I thank whatever divine spirits are out there that I had the wherewithal to put on underwear.
It would have made for a very uncomfortable situation if I hadn’t.
“Uncle Alex, why are you in Mom’s room? And why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”
I scratch the back of my neck and send an impeaching look to Eden.
“Alex just needed to use the bathroom for a minute.”
Macon’s frown deepens. “But there’s one down the hall.”
“Yes.” I point at him like he’s made an excellent point. “But that one is, well, you see, it’s broken, so I had to use this one.”
“I just used it a second ago, and it was fine.”
“Well…” I’m blinking so rapidly from the stress that my vision blurs. “It must have fixed itself.”
Macon stares at me like I’m stupid. “You guys are weird. And idiots. It’s quite obvious what’s going on here,” he says in what could be a British accent, looking down his nose at us like he’s the principal and we’re two unruly students who’ve wound up in his office.
Eden’s lips twitch. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. You’re friends that kiss now.”
That makes me snort. “You’ve been spending too much time with Ivy.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“And you’re as intimidating as your mother when you want to be.”
He puts his hands on his hips. I stare at Eden, silently pleading with her to handle her son’s interrogation. She doesn’t help me. Part of me thinks that it’s because she’s enjoying my blatant discomfort, but the rest of me thinks it could be something else.
Two things can be true at once, I suppose.
Her lip disappears between her teeth as a gleam of uncertainty settles across her gaze. Maybe she’s not confirming our newfound relationship status because she doesn’t know what it is. Maybe she’s not answering because she wants me to be the one to do it.
She’s waiting for me to be brave. She’s waiting for me to stop running.
“You’re right, little man.” I clear my throat, though I’m not looking at him when I say it. I’m looking at his mom. “We’re friends that kiss now.”
My throat feels a little scratchy, and my heart is beating so vigorously I’m sure it’s trying to break free of my chest. But it’s worth it to see the way her face transforms. How the hesitation disappears in place of a smile so bright it rivals the morning light.
The way her green eyes glimmer with a look of pure adoration. It heals something inside of me.
And if the sight of her like this doesn’t solidify my decision to keep her, then I don’t know what will. I flick her a wink, thinking of all the ways I’m going to worship her again later.
“Um, guys?” Macon waves his hands between us. “You know I’m still here, right?”
“You think we could forget about you?” Eden lunges for him and executes a ruthless tickling attack until tears are rolling down his cheeks from laughter. Panting, she leans back on her knees. “But, seriously, how do you feel about us being…friends that kiss now?”
Macon taps his chin like he’s pretending to think it over—a trait he inherited from Aspen, I presume—until, finally, he beams and throws his arms around his mom.
“Everyone at school is gonna die when they find out Alex Wolfe is my new stepdad. Are you guys gonna have a baby? I’ve always wanted a baby sister. ”
Eden balks. “Hold on, honey, we’re not at the marriage stage yet.”
I wait for the inevitable roil of panic in my gut and the life-threatening heart palpitations, but they never arrive. In fact, the thought of Eden with my ring on her finger and a little Alex in her belly isn’t an unwelcome one at all.
Huh. Maybe I’m growing up.
“You’ve come a long way.”
My jaw unhinges. “Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn’t catch it the first time.”
Dr. Sharma offers me one of her eye rolls that I’ve grown used to over the last few months.
“You really shouldn’t do that, you know? It’s wildly unprofessional.”
“And you shouldn’t fish for compliments,” she admonishes, but she’s smirking as she does.
“But in all seriousness, the last time I saw you, you were extremely reluctant to discuss your parents with anyone, and now you’ve told two people.
Admittedly, I wouldn’t have encouraged you to choose a child to first confide in, but I’m not upset with the results. ”
“Well, it wasn’t like I was trauma dumping on him. It was just relevant at the time, and he seemed like a…” I trail off, staring out my favorite window at the trees waving outside.
“A safe option?” she finishes for me. “I get it.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “He was cool about it.”
“And Eden?”
I smile as I think about her eavesdropping on my conversation with Macon and what it had led to.
“She made me wonder why I hadn’t told her sooner.”
Not just because of the sex. But because she’d made me feel safe enough to share. There was no pity. No judgment. Only warmth and understanding.
Dr. Sharma places her notepad facedown on the table and leans forward in her armchair. “Last time we spoke, you told me you were experiencing unfamiliar sensations in your chest. Did you have that assessed by a doctor?”
“No, I figured it out.”
Her lips twitch knowingly. “And what was your conclusion?”
“Respectfully, Doc, I don’t want to say the words to you before I’ve said them to Eden.”
I watch her fight a smile. For a therapist who I’m sure has undergone rigorous training to remain impartial, Dr. Sharma has surprisingly little control of her face.
But maybe that’s why this therapist/client relationship works.
I’m not sure I’d have felt as comfortable with someone who acted more like a walking AI than a human with their own emotions.
She rests her hands in her lap, palms up, and crosses an ankle behind the other. “That’s okay, we can talk about something else. Is your relationship with Eden still strictly a PR one?”
“No.” I don’t think it ever was. “I’m gonna try to do this commitment thing.”
“That’s a pretty big change for you. How are you feeling about it?”
“Scared.” A shiver sneaks up my spine. “That something will take her away from me, you know? But more than that, I’m terrified that I’ll fuck it up somehow. That I’ll get spooked by something and withdraw. That I’ll detach myself from her. Hurt her. Let her down. Let both of them down.”
“Both of them?”
“Eden and Macon.”
She nods. “You’ve made extraordinary progress since our last session, Alex, but healing is a slow process.
You won’t be perfect right away, and neither will she.
You’re two flawed individuals who have found themselves together, and it wouldn’t benefit either of you to hold yourselves to a standard that can’t be met.
Be patient with yourself. Setbacks will happen.
It’s natural, but what matters is how you choose to deal with it.
Healthy relationships aren’t built on perfection but the choice to keep putting in the work to show up as a better partner.
To keep choosing each other even when it’s hard. ”
“But how do I do that?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” She motions at the room around us. “Looks to me like you’re already doing it.”
Huh. Maybe she’s right.
I’m here. On a Saturday, of all fucking days. All because I finally pulled my head out of my ass and decided to try my hand at this love business. I decided to choose Eden.
Is this what a breakthrough feels like?
“Doc?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m ready to tell you about the day I lost my parents.”