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The intricacies of dealing with the disorder were complicated.
The learning curve would be steep.
But the decision was easy.
Chapter Forty-Two - Knees
Minty
Other than Tuesday night, Brayleigh slept through the night, and thankfully, the night terrors had ceased. Putting Brayleigh to bed was becoming marginally easier. The controlled nature of the exposure helped, and Friday night Lucky and I refrained from checking until we went to bed, something Lucky habitually did every night anyway.
My level of anxiety had not changed, but the level of uncertainty I could tolerate increased. In other words, my anxiety remained high only because I kept pushing the limits of my exposure.
Thursday morning, we tired Brayleigh out at the park. While she slept in the afternoon, Lucky played guitar and I worked on my commissions. We made dinner together, bumping hips and elbows in the kitchen, talking about nothing and everything.
Lucky chopped vegetables liked nobody’s business, and had taken to marinating and grilling portobello mushrooms, sliced eggplant, and peppers alongside his burgers. I doubted his barbecue had ever met an eggplant or portobello mushroom before I came into his life. The change in my daily routine and the shifting of my future plans was a wonder.
Friday, we visited a petting zoo an hour outside of Milltown where Lucky took more pictures than I could count. Worn out from sun and excitement, Brayleigh spent the afternoon in bed and so did we.
In the evening, we headed over to Willa and Barrett’s. Balancing my cookie platter in one hand, and Brayleigh in the other, threw me off balance in more ways than one. Walking up to Willa’s, side-by-side with Lucky who carted all the toddler paraphernalia, was a far cry from how I usually arrived at these things. The shift had me all kinds of warm and slightly off-kilter.
Overtired and overwrought, she fought going to bed Friday night and Lucky calmly took over. Watching him, I realized that the calm I emitted to the outside world was manufactured and contrived, while Lucky’s was bred into his bones. He took her tantrums in stride, her night terrors in stride, my issues in stride. Perhaps he really could handle it. Accept it. Accept me.
I commiserated with Brayleigh, I, too, was overtired.
Unused to spending this much time with other people, never mind a small person who triggered my worst fears, had me falling asleep in Lucky’s big bed before Brayleigh. I woke up hours later, my butt tucked into Lucky’s groin, his arm looped around my waist, and his nose tucked against the back of my neck.
He stirred in his sleep and pulled me closer. “You good?” he murmured.
“Couldn’t be better,” I admitted.
“Good.” He kissed the nape of my neck and within moments his breath evened and slowed. I followed him to sleep shortly after.
Lucky’s sister, Ava, picked Brayleigh up early Saturday afternoon, taking her to Tracy’s for the day to play with her cousins, then to her place to sleep because Lucky had a commitment with Drivetrain.
As soon as she left, we took the bike out. I treasured these times. The soft blur of the fields as we whipped past. The wind beating against me. With my body synced to his, I soaked up his peace. And I sorely needed it.
Again, the relief I experienced with Brayleigh out of the house waved like a bright, red flag. I told myself it would get better. After so many years, I knew how to deal with these things. It would take time, but it would get easier until it, too, became white noise.
Hope would be back on Monday. Our routine would revert back to the usual where I wouldn’t have to constantly deal with the triggers.
I smoothed my dress over my hips as I checked out my reflection in the mirror, wondering which woman would be staring back at me. I caught glimpses of the inside me, the unfettered me, the me I wanted to be, but she was not yet ready to move in permanently.
Still, I could see her, and she approved of my little dress.
Lucky rolled in behind me and his eyes slid over my form approvingly before meeting mine in the mirror.
I watched as his hands slid around my waist and he bent to rest his chin on my shoulder. “You… are beautiful. I love everything about you,” he murmured, palming my ribs.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I replied dryly.
He grinned. “Lots of ideas but they’re only in the planning stages.” His thumbs brushed the undersides of my breasts. “Execution of said plans is scheduled for approximately four hours from now.”
I raised my arms over my head and threaded my fingers through his hair, watching his gaze zero in on my breasts.
He groaned and cupped them in his hands.
“Four hours, darling,” I reminded him.
