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Here I sit, still looking for understanding, one that I’m not sure I’ll ever have. I strum chords, waiting for something to strike, when I see a shadow and hear the click of Snipe's nails. My traitorous dog has made himself at home here with Sean and follows him everywhere.
The couch sinks down next to me.
“Hey.” Sean’s soft voice interrupts the quiet. “Don’t stop on my account. It’s beautiful.”
I get back to it, but it only takes a minute or two before the inevitable frustration kicks in. Usually, when I’m lost or confused or hurting, music is where I find solace, but tonight, it’s not giving me the answers I want and need.
I set my guitar on the couch next to me and pull my knees to my chest. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over this, to move past it.” I set my chin on my knees.
Sean’s large body stretches out next to me, his ankles crossed and propped on the table in front of us.
“I’m not sure you need to, at least not yet. Give yourself some time and let this settle in a little. You don’t have to do anything right now. You’ve given them years. I think it’s ok to take a little time.”
“I have so many questions, but I’m so angry I can't even begin formulating them.”
“I’m sure.” The tenderness of his voice makes it hard to suck back a new wave of emotions.
“The worst of it is Gem not telling me. How could she not tell me something like this? I trusted her with everything.” Just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes.
“I know.” Sean’s arm comes around me as if he understands the stabbing pain in my chest. “It wasn’t hers to tell, though. No matter how much she may have wanted to, it wasn’t her place to tell you.” His warm hand spreads around my side. “I don’t know much about families and that kind of love, but Andie, it’s clear to me that woman would do anything for you. It’s never mattered to her, not one bit. You’ve been hers all along.”
I taste the salt of a single tear as it hits my lips, and I lean against him, trying to hear what he’s saying and believe it, but the wound is so raw. He pulls me into his chest and wraps his other arm around me, holding me tight.
We sit in the semi-dark for a while, the silence falling around us, and rather than being uncomfortable, it’s soothing. Sean’s warm body is comforting, and the rhythm of his slow breaths is relaxing.
“You have a very nice house.” I need to talk and think about something else for a while. “The view is amazing. Where’s the giant pool and the servant staff?”
“No pool. Just a hot tub.”
“Huh. Do you sit in it often? Is that good for your body after games?”
I feel his chin tip down like he’s looking at me, probably surprised by my shift in thoughts. “The hot tub and sauna are must-haves. Sometimes, after games, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. It helps with the soreness.”
“Mmm. Sounds nice.”
“It is. You know what else it’s good for?” There’s a hint of mischievousness in his voice.
“What?” I ask, not sure I’m ready for his answer.
“Internal wounds.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, but that was not it.
I lift my head slightly. “Really?”
“Yep.” His reply is quick, and then the football player comes out, and he’s got me over his shoulder and carrying me out onto the porch.
“Sean, don’t even think about it.”
“I’m way past thinking about it and have moved on to the doing part.”
“Sean.” He pushes open the porch door, and the bite of the cold air stings my skin. “Put me down or–”
“Not happening, Andie. You’ve needed this for the past three days. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. You’re lucky I don’t have a pool.” He marches on, and I hear him flip a switch and push the top back, exposing half of the hot tub. Steam billows around us as he lowers me to the edge of the hot tub but doesn’t let me go.
His hands stay firmly on my waist as he surrounds me. I drag my eyes up to his, peeking at him from underneath my eyelashes, a little intimidated about what I might find there.
He’s zeroed in on me. I’m not in the hot water, but heat consumes me.
