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“Not all stories are the same, Samuel,” Rhenn says.
“Besides, it’s the shit in the middle that makes the story good,” Latham adds.
“So you did things a little backwards. How bad could it be?” Jensen asks before turning around and finishing up the dishes.
How bad could it be?
My heart is telling me it’s not the end of the world, but I can’t seem to let it go. My brain just isn’t wired like that. It’s black and white, with no room for gray. And right now, I feel like my whole life is a whole lot of gray.
***
“Do you want some peach cobbler?” Freedom asks from the back door.
“Uh, no, thank you.”
I’ve been sitting outside, enjoying the cooler night, and thinking. Talking with the guys tonight planted the seed that I don’t actually have to get a divorce. Yet, here I am, trying to convince myself it’s the only way. Start over. Fresh slate. It’s all there in black ink, just waiting for me to sign on the line.
The door opens and Freedom blows onto the deck like a light wind. She’s wearing one of her signature skirts and has paired it with an ivory sweater that hangs loosely off one shoulder. There’s no strap, which tells me she’s not wearing a bra beneath the knitted top. My cock starts to thicken at the thought.
“So, I was thinking,” she starts, coming over to where I’m seated. Shockingly, she doesn’t take one of the other available seats, but instead, climbs up on my lap.
My entire body stills, even though my hands itch to touch. “What were you thinking about?” I ask, clearing my throat. I reach for my necktie but realize it’s not there. When we came home from dinner, I took it off and hung it in the closet beside the dozens of other ties. It’s weird to not wear one right now.
“I was thinking we should add a little something to the kitchen,” she says, curling her legs up on my lap and essentially making herself comfortable.
I have no other option than to wrap my arms around her and hang on. “Define a little something.” My heart starts to pound in my chest.
“A theme.”
“A theme?”
“You know like farmhouse chickens or vibrant sunflowers,” she says, as she leans her head back on my shoulder and gazes up at the stars. “They’re so bright tonight. The sky’s so clear.”
I glance up and take in the majestic beauty of the sky. When was the last time I just stopped and looked at the stars? Ever?
“When I was at the compound, I used to watch the stars. I’d lie on the ground and make shapes and pictures with them. Once, I swear I saw a whale in the sky.”
I’m not sure if her comment requires and answer or not, so I just pull her tighter into my chest. All I can picture is a young Freedom, with her long brown hair in the dirt and a smile on her face as she stares up at the sky and finds star animals.
“Anyway, I was thinking you needed a theme. Some matching hand towels, a few pictures on the wall, and maybe a clock. If you’re feeling super adventurous, we could even paint the cabinet faces a coordinating color.” The entire time she talks, she just stares up at the sky, a serene look on her face.
“Those are solid mahogany cabinets, Freedom.”
She turns and our eyes meet. “Are those nice?”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah, darling, they’re nice. They were quite expensive to install.”
“Huh. Really? I mean, they’re okay, but why spend so much on something that’s just a plain wood? You could have gotten a cheaper pine cabinet and painted them to fit your mood or theme,” she reasons, and I find myself, surprisingly, smiling.
“Maybe my next kitchen.”
“So, we don’t paint your fancy cabinets then. What about the walls? We could do an accent wall?”
The no is on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I don’t say it. Instead, I find myself agreeing. “That might work. What theme were you thinking?”
Her eyes widen with delight as she tells me all about the different ideas she has. I don’t really pay that much attention. I’m too transfixed on her eyes. At the delight. At the sparkle. At the light that seems to radiate from her soul. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Freedom is a true ray of sunshine, packed in a tiny, eccentric woman.
“Oh! What about some Aztec pottery? Did you know I used to make bowls and things to sell at the market?”
