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He smiles at her like she just offered him a pot of gold. “I can’t wait.”
Make it Official
Stone
LATER THAT EVENING.
I slip out of bed and drop a kiss on her head and leave an invitation to the hospital’s biggest fundraiser of the year by her bedside along with a note.
Venus,
I had
to go to work and I’ve got shifts every night this week. That’s an invitation to a Rivers Foundation fundraiser. I’d like you to be my date.
I know it’s more public than you’re ready for. But I’m certain that after dinner with your mother, we’re ready.
And, I won’t pretend you’re not mine anymore. I know you love me, but love isn’t enough. I need you to trust me, too. It would be fucking awesome to make a life with my soul mate, so I’m praying you’ll choose me over everything else - the fear, the worry. Have faith in us.
Love, Stone
I walk out of there knowing I’ve put my heart back in her hands.
What if she decides that as much as she wants me, she wants other things and people more?
I’d like to think that I’d get on with my life.
But hell, I don’t want to think about living without my Venus. I’m hers. Body and soul, heart and mind.
We could do incredible things together. I can only hope that in the face of this leap of faith I’m asking her to make, she’ll want what’s on the other side more than she fears the fall.
Make Them Stop
Regan
After putting it off all week, this afternoon, I gathered my kids to tell them that Stone was more than a friend.
He’s picking me up tonight, and I wanted them to understand before he arrived.
They were all happy. He’s been over a few times this week. And, he’s even working on his French and has won Martinez over. Henri likes him because he’s tall enough to climb. Eva likes him, because he likes me.
I reassured them that he wouldn’t be trying to replace their father. We also talked about how they felt about their father and I not being married anymore.
Because we’ve lived apart for so long, they’re used to the long stretches of him being gone. Eva is still not speaking to him, and I can’t say I blame her. But I also encouraged her to try talking to him. She said, “You first.”
So, I called Marcel, and all four of us had a civil, somewhat stilted conversation.
What he did was so wrong, but he’s not a monster. He’s just living proof that marriage isn’t for everyone. And despite his failings as a husband, I know he loves his kids. I don’t want them to have hang ups about love or to look at their parents’ less than stellar track record and think that it had any bearing on them. By the time we were done talking, we all felt better.
But I saved the most difficult conversation for the last possible moment.
“Okay, guys, time for bed,” I say, and wait for them to get their grumble out before I shoo them upstairs.
“Eva, can you wait, please? I want to talk to you,” I call after her, and pat the spot next to me on the small sofa.
“Okay,” she bounds back, smiling, because she loves when she gets to hear things her brothers are too little to.
My stomach cramps, as I watch her walk toward me. What would I do if someone hurt her the way I was hurt? I hope that by telling her, she’ll make better choices and understand that silence and secrets don’t do anything but fester and make us sick.
