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Feeling herself sliding backward, she took a sip of wine. Four years of counseling, of recovery, and then she could so quickly be right back there.
“If you’d really believed we did nothing wrong by being gone that night,” he said, “you’d have been able to have sex with me in the months that followed.”
His softly spoken words hit her with a ferociousness she knew he hadn’t intended. She sat back, hands shaking, trying to get control of emotions that just didn’t die.
Her inability to want sex with him, even after the immediate blow of grief had worn off, had been a final nail in their marriage’s coffin.
Their lovemaking the night Tucker died had been incredible. She’d even admitted, sometime during it all, that Braden had been right to insist that they have that time alone together. She’d missed him so much. Had half forgotten how incredible he made her feel, how right it was to be locked body to body with him, riding the crazy crest together.
And afterward...
“I felt so guilty for being so into you that I’d actually forgotten about him, on and off, for those hours when we were together. I was having the orgasm of my life while he was dying.”
She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes and knew she’d gone too far.
She expected him to motion for the bill and almost reached for her purse.
“You aren’t supposed to think about your children in the middle of sex, Mal. Or be turned on when you’re thinking about them. It’s a God thing, I’m sure. A shut-off valve that’s embedded in us to keep the parent-child relationship sacred and on track.”
She stared at him. Had he just said that? Were they really having this conversation?
Now? After all this time?
“My current concerns don’t stem from anything to do with me,” he told her then, getting them back on topic.
She sat back, the threat of tears gone. “I’d like to hear them,” she told him honestly.
He cut a piece of steak, ate it. She broke off a piece of bread, played with it, making a pile of crumbs on her plate.
“I’m worried about you being alone and facing all of the things that could possibly go wrong.”
“You don’t think I’m strong enough to deal with life on my own?” That was a new one to her. She’d grown up in foster care, caring for foster children. She knew a hell of a lot about what could go wrong.
“I do. It’s just that when it comes to mothering, Mal, you’re so all in, and losing Tucker just about killed you. The idea of you having another baby... I figure it needs to happen for you, but are you sure you’re ready? And doing it alone. What if—”
She shook her head. “No what-ifs, Braden. Not unless you want me stuck with no life forever. There are always what-ifs. I’ve chosen to tackle them one by one as they come, if they come. As a part of living.”
He put down his fork, not quite through his steak. He’d barely touched the potato.
“You’ve really thought this through,” he said, meeting her gaze head on.
“For months,” she told him. “Remember last November I told you about Tamara referring that man to my daycare whose mother had died in prison giving birth, and he suddenly found himself with custody of a newborn without even knowing that his mother had been pregnant?” This was how she’d practiced telling him how she’d arrived at her decision.
This was what Braden would understand.
He nodded. “I kind of thought you and he would hook up.”
“Tamara tried her best to get me to think that way, for a minute or two. I knew all along she had a thing for the guy.”
Her friend had been unable to so much as hold a baby, however, which had definitely been a major roadblock for the couple. Still was, sometimes. But they were working on it. And there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Tamara loved that baby girl. Mallory could see it when Tamara came in to The Bouncing Ball, sometimes with Flint, sometimes not, to pick up little Diamond Rose after work.
“The thing is I’ve learned from seeing her courage, seeing how she forced herself to fight her way out of hell to give herself a chance to be happy, to make others happy. I have to do this, Braden. I can’t let the past prevent my future.”
Which was why she’d agreed to spend the previous Christmas on a yacht with some old friends from college instead of with Braden, as they’d done in the past. He’d gone home to North Carolina to be with his mom and sister, but up to the last minute had tried to get her to go with him. He’d been worried about her spending the holiday alone.
It hadn’t been her best Christmas, but she’d done just fine.
“Okay.” Hands on the table, he looked at her. Then loosened his tie and motioned for the check.
