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On this night, I was not looking forward to climbing into bed alone again. I had the television on to add some noise to the unbearable quiet of the house, and I had the bathroom light on because, apparently, I had become afraid of the dark. I slid into our fluffy bed. The sheets were soft against my skin, and I looked over at J.R.’s pillow, wishing he were there.
My phone began to ring on the bedside table next to me. J.R.’s name flashed across the screen. I smiled, my heart fluttering just as it always did when my mind settled on J.R. “Hello, love.”
“Come outside.”
“What?” I sort of laughed at him, confused. J.R. was on the other side of the country. California, maybe. I could never keep up with where he was on any given night while on tour. “What are you talking about?”
“Put on your coat and come outside.” I could hear the smile in his voice. Like a boy pulling a prank on someone he loves.
I grabbed one of J.R. 's sweatshirts from the chair in the corner of the room, and I shuffled down the hallway toward the front door. “What is going on, J.R.?” I asked with the phone still pressed against my ear. I unlocked the door, and then I peered outside into the chilly darkness of Tybee Island. Then, after determining that it was safe, I opened the door the rest of the way.
The cold air hit me hard, sending chills down my body, but none of this mattered because there on the top step of the front porch was J.R. He had on his heavy, military-style jacket and his black, ripped jeans; and he had a knit beanie over his long hair. I was surprised, yes, but more excited to see him so unexpectedly.
“What are you doing here?” I dropped the phone and bounced outside right into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing his lips.
His arms wrapped around me, too, and he smiled against my lips. “We have a little break. Three days, but I wanted to come home and spend it with you.”
“I love you,” I said, gazing into his blue eyes.
J.R. kissed me again, each kiss heavier with passion. And then, still holding me around his waist, he carried me into the house, kicking the front door closed behind him. He continued to carry me down the hall and into our bedroom, where he laid me against the soft sheets and proceeded to crawl on top of me. Our lips were still connected, and his body felt so good against mine. I had missed him even more than I had realized. With every second that passed, my heart beat harder for him. In that moment, all I wanted was to be one body. One whole instead of two halves.
The next morning, the sun rose, peeking its rays through the drawn curtains. I awoke, still wrapped in his arms. I smiled at the memory of the night before, and I rolled over to face him.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
I continued to smile at him. “I have missed you so much.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “It does seem to get a little harder every time I am away.” His eyes were locked on mine, and he thought for a moment before speaking again. “You should come with me. On the tour.”
I laughed at him. I couldn’t imagine myself riding around in a van with five guys on a cross-country tour, fighting off the groupies. I was sure the van would be smelly and the experience unattractive in every way. I didn’t even want to think about the things guys talked about when left to their own devices.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You can’t be serious, J.R.” But then I realized that he was serious, and it looked as though I had hurt his feelings by merely laughing at the suggestion.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “One girl in a van full of guys. I mean, I’m lonely here. I miss you. I’m ready for you to come home, but…” I wiggled out of his arms and rested on my side, gazing at him. Surely, the next step in our relationship was not me going on tour with him. That couldn’t be what’s next, could it? I mean, our entire relationship had already been unconventional. Couldn’t we do one normal thing? Like get married?
“What is it, Rach?” he asks.
“Do you ever think about our future?”
J.R.’s eyes crinkled a bit, and he looked at me with the expression of confusion across his face. “Our future?”
“Well, I mean, we have a house together. You have your band. I’m still writing my opinion posts and working on my first novel. But what about us?”
“What about us?” he asks, still confused. I felt myself grow frustrated with him. Why was he acting like he had no idea what I was implying?
I sighed. “Do you ever think about getting married?” I decided that J.R. needed my question spelled out for him. “We’ve only talked about marriage once before, and it was a long time ago. You made it very clear that you weren’t interested. But now, we’ve been together so long, and I just… I wonder if it’s in the cards for us.”
We had been together for five years, and I knew that I wasn’t getting any younger. With every passing day, I inched closer to becoming the old cat lady my mother always said I would be.
“Rach.” Now he sounded frustrated. “We’ve talked about this. Why do you want to change this? Change us?”
“J.R., we talked about it once, years ago. I want to marry you. I don’t want to tour with you. I want to marry you!” I felt shame for shouting at him, and this was certainly not how I wanted to get my way. I also felt guilty because J.R. took the red-eye to get there the night before, and now I was yelling at him.
J.R. rolled over on his back, taking his eyes away from mine. “And you want kids, right? Settle down? You want me to leave the band, too? Be like everyone else in this world? Is that what you want, Rach?”
