Page 77 of Second Chance

“I wanted you with me, Mati.”

“But that’s not what you said—”

“I know what I said then,” he interrupts me, swiping a hand through his hair and gazing out the front windshield. “I didn’t mean it.”

My shoulders fall, and I stare at him.

“I don’t understand. Then why?”

Denton closes his eyes a second before lowering his head to get a better look out the front window at the dark sky.

“Let’s check out the moon.”

I’m thrown off by the statement and the abrupt end to our conversation, but the schoolboy expression on his face—the one that makes him innocent, sheepish, and cautious—has me sighing in frustration but agreeing.

“Okay.”

We each exit our doors and Denton pulls the driver seat forward to retrieve the sleeping bags I told him about. He walks to the back of my truck and unlatches the tailgate. He spreads one on the bed floor before hopping up and leaning down for me. I take his offered hand, and he hauls me upward. I giggle at his strength before falling against him. As I land on my feet inside the truck bed, Denton looks upward to the late evening sky.

“I forgot how beautiful it can be,” he whispers as if he doesn’t wish to disturb the heavens above us.

“No moon or stars in Hollywood,” I tease, quietly.

“Only rockstars and assholes,” he says, lowering his gaze to me. He crouches down before taking a seat. Scooting back to place his back against the wall of the truck, he then pats the space between his spread legs. I follow his lead and crawl between his thighs. My body curls forward as I peer up at the sky until his arm snakes around my waist, and he drags me back to his chest.

“You’re too far away, Spice.”

My head shakes as I giggle, and then I melt into him, allowing my head to fall on his shoulder. We sit like this for several minutes, just moongazing. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this. Just took a breath and looked up at heaven. Suddenly, my mind races to Chris. Is he up there? Can he see me? Does he know what I’m doing? Do I know what I’m doing?

“It’s okay to miss him, Mati.” I startle at the tender words in my ear. “But he isn’t here anymore.”

He isn’t being harsh. His voice isn’t detached like when he spoke of the miscarriage. He’s speaking a truth I’m well aware of.

“I know that. I do. I do miss him, it’s just that…” Can I say how I feel?

“You can talk to me. We can talk about him, if you’d like.”

“Don’t you? Don’t you have things you want to say? Things you want to ask?”

I sit forward and spin to face him.

“I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me, but if all you have to say is how great a guy he was, how wonderful a father, a fair and honest lawyer…then I already know these things. First, because I knew Chris, and he’d be nothing less, and second because everyone who sees me wants to reminisce and tell me.”

I exhale. He’s right. These things are true.

“What I don’t know is what kind of husband he was?” He pauses. “And I don’t know if I can hear it, but I’ll listen if you need to tell me.”

“Cora’s one of the few people who understands how I feel.”

The warmth of his fingers on my cheeks tells me I can speak, but I don’t have to. Despite the darkness, I see a spark in his eyes, a warmth of concern, but a steel strength that he’ll take what I have to say.

“He wasn’t perfect, Denton. He was a good husband. The best by most measures, but he wasn’t a saint. We fought. We made up. We disagreed. We loved.”

Denton’s hands slip from my face, but I capture them, bringing them back to my cheeks.

“I loved him with all my heart while he was here. But he’s not here anymore.” My eyes don’t leave his, and I will him to understand me when I don’t even understand myself. “My heart has holes.”

“What are you saying?”