24|Naomi's Sob
I sat behind the wheel, gripping it tightly to stop my hands from shaking.
The engine was turned off, but the silence in the car was painfully deafening.
Outside, the sky was outcasted.
I turned and grabbed the small bouquet of white lilies sitting on the passenger seat.
It's been a year already.
A year since half of me died.
A year since the baby I never got to know died.
I took a deep breath before finally stepping out of the car and through the cemetery gates.
I've only been here a four times.
The first time was when a buddy of mine from AA passed...liver failure.
The other three were for Eden.
As I neared the gravesite, I slowed down when I heard loud sobbing coming from Eden's grave.
A sob I hadn't heard in years.
A sob I only heard once when she didn't get the internship at Kane & Whitman after working her ass off.
Naomi's sob.
"I'm sorry," she cried out loud, her voice painfully cracking at the end.
I turned the corner instinctively, following the sound without thinking.
And there she was, kneeling at the tiny grave, her fingers clutched around the edge of the headstone.
"Mommy is so sorry," she continued to cry and my heart ached.
"I failed you, I failed daddy, I failed everyone," she cried and all I could do is stay frozen.
I don't even think she cried at the hospital.
"Gosh, I miss you so much," she cried. "From feeling you in me for 9 months to...to nothing."
"We were supposed to be a family," she cried. "I was supposed to unlearn all the hurt and hatred your grandparents taught me."
"You were-you were supposed to be here," she cried as she collapsed onto the headstone.
"My baby," she cried softly, which broke something deep inside me.
Naomi is so...difficult.
But when she's like this?
That's just torture.
I couldn't listen to another second of it.
The sound of her heartbreak felt like it was being torn straight from my own chest.
But I knew she needed it.
She hadn't given herself the chance to grieve...not like I did.
...
My leg bounced anxiously as I tried to focus on what was being said on the living room TV.
However, I couldn't focus for the life of me.
I just kept checking the time and window to see if she had pulled in the driveway as yet.
And to make it worse, the excruciating pain in my chest magnified as Naomi's sobs kept replaying in my mind.
Did I make the right choice?
Should I have interrupted her or did I make the right choice by giving her space?
Just when I was about to get up for the hundredth time, the door clicked before it opened.
I immediately stood up and she walked in with a cold expression on her face.
My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out as she walked past me and up the stairs.
Before I knew it, I was following behind her into the bedroom.
She gasped when I wrapped my arms around her from behind.
I hate that I'm doing this.
Comforting the woman who would never comfort me in a million years.
But unfortunately, this is who I am.
This is who I'll always be to her.
No matter how many times I tell her I'm done with her, she's still the only one in this world that I want to make happy.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice cracking as she tried to get out of my grip.
"Just-just let me hold you," I said quietly, my face buried in the crook of her neck. "Just for a second."
For the past three hours I'd been sitting there thinking about her nonstop, worried sick.
I hate it.
She went still.
"I don't want you to hold me," she wickedly said.
What the actual hell is wrong with her?
Why can't she be nice for once?
I slowly let go of her, my hands falling uselessly to the side.
She stepped towards the bed, not even looking back.
Just when I was about to turn around, I noticed something.
Something a stranger wouldn't pick up on, but I did.
Her shoulders were trembling.
Barely.
Subtle enough to fool anyone...except for me.
Her back was still turned to me, her arms tight around herself like she was trying to hold everything in.
She didn't even make a sound, but I knew that type of silence way too well.
Naomi only cried when no one was watching or when she thought no was watching.
I took a step forward before forcing her to turn around and face me.
When my eyes landed on her, it felt like a punch to the gut.
Endless tears were streaming down her face.
Her eyes were red and puffy.
Her shoulders were shaking violently now.
Without another word, she collapsed into my chest and I took no time in wrapping my arms around her.
"I'm sorry for everything, Nate," she cried into my chest and this time, I was the one freezing up.
When I felt her tears soak into my shirt, I couldn't breathe.
I didn't know what to do.
In all our years of marriage, she's never once broken down in front of me.
Much less apologized with meaning.
She clung to me like she had nothing less because she didn't.
"I-I should've never walked away," she cried. "I was scared...and I-I hated myself."
"But I never stopped loving you, Nate, and I was too much of a stubborn bitch to say it," she cried even more.
I pulled back just enough to see her face.
She looked like a wreck.
My beautiful wreck.
Her eyes flickered to my lips.
Mine dropped to hers.
And before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to pull away, but she didn't.
Instead, she gripped the back of my neck and pulled me closer so that my lips crashed on hers.
We started off desperate before intensifying more and more.
My hands automatically gripped her ass, just like I always do, crashing her body so hard against mine.
She let out a moan from my sudden attack, letting me know how much it turned her on.
I tightened my grip around her before lifting her and throwing her on the bed again.
She moaned again.
Clearly roughness in the bedroom and court were our thing.
I gripped her thighs and forced her to open them as I laid between them, taking a second to look at her before my lips were right back on hers.
I felt desperate.
Every part of me remembered exactly how she tasted.
Seeing her in that robe yesterday didn't help at all.
Seeing her toy on the bed made me feel jealous.
That should've been me.
She moaned into my mouth and I paused, just for a second, to look at her.
Her hair had loosened from the hair tie and her lips were swollen from kissing.
Just like always, my wife looked like the prettiest woman in the world.
I shifted, and before she could catch her breath, I flipped her over.
Her gasp was suppressed by the sheets.
I smiled before lowering myself into her again and trailing harsh kisses up her neck.
She happily arched in response.
My dick began to throb, so my hands quickly found their way to the zipper of her pants.
Before I could go any further, she grabbed me.
"Wait," she gasped.
I stopped instantly, my chest rising up and down as I looked at her.
"I don't think I'm ready to go all the way as yet," she said in a nervous tone as her eyes searched mine for a response.
For a second, I just stayed there, not fully processing what was going on.
What the hell were we even doing?
But I eventually pulled back slightly.
"Okay," I said simply, not trying to pressure her. "We don't have to."
She blinked, maybe expecting me to argue or storm out, but I didn't.
Why would I?
It's our first time in over a year.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her lips.
"We're good," I tried to convince her, but she still watched me with a frown.
I pulled her into my chest and wrapped my arms around her. "We're good."