Chapter 53
Fifty-Three
Weeks pass without a word from Remy. I finally write him a letter—unsure whether he’s even allowed mail—providing encouragement and a report on what’s happening in his absence. He’s probably fucking miserable, and I keep it short and to the point, not wanting to rub it in.
I’m extra attentive to Jax, if that’s possible. We fill every gap with phone calls and squeeze time together more resolutely than ever. We go sailing. Hiking. Surfing. And in the immortal words of Led Zeppelin, make a whole lotta love.
My mind zips back to an overnight we had on the boat recently, when I tied her hands with nautical rope, stripped her naked, then dropped to my knees and buried my face in her pussy before fucking her senseless.
Our bodies were meant for each other, like heat-seeking missiles, and I’m sure I’ll never tire of sex with this woman.
But I also don’t want to imagine a life where I can’t hold her in my arms at night or find fresh ways to put a smile on her face.
I want to read every story, article, and poem she writes.
Spend all holidays with her at my side. Support her dreams, hike mountains, travel the world, watch sunsets, share meals, sail the ocean… together.
Sometimes, I catch the worry in her expression and faraway gazes, but mostly, she’s fully present, and our connection grows exponentially.
We agree to stop using any drugs, both in solidarity of Remy’s situation, but also because nothing good can come from our cavalier use of that shit.
It’s an impediment to living—and our future, one I hope is bright for us.
I take every second Jax offers, chugging it down with an unquenchable thirst.
Some of our moments glide by idle and unfettered, others seem frantic, as if we’re stealing time. And maybe we are, since in the background are murmurs that a reckoning sits on the horizon like a brewing storm.
Is one heading our way?
There’s no way of knowing—or how we’ll weather it once it arrives. My instincts are to stay in the now and dance with the devil I know.
The only sure thing in my life is Jax. She’s fast becoming my Polaris, the star I rotate around, gravitate to, and that guides my heart and head. She’s the direction I steer my ship.