Page 93 of The Joy of Us


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“I’m proud of you,” Levi tells me, painting his lips across mine

On the way out, we stop by Lucy’s booth and grab Dasher.

“Might have to borrow him more often,” she tells Levi.

“Or you can get your own dog.”

“It’s easier to take yours,” she says with a laugh, and we say our goodbyes.

As our feet hit the sidewalk, I grab Levi’s hand and interlock my fingers with his. Before we leave, he stops at the Chamber of Commerce booth. He slides a twenty across the table and they hand him an envelope. He offers it to me and I open it, pulling out the photo of me, him, and Dasher from earlier today.

“Just so you’ll never forget today.”

I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pull him in for a passionate kiss. “That’s not happening, Levi. It’s been a night to remember.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

FALLON

DAY 22

My eyes flutteropen as Levi spoons me. His breathing is low, and I know he’s still sleeping. I’m not quite ready to get out of bed, so I lie there, enjoying his warmth and comfort. We actually slept in, and I’m thankful for the extra rest after spending Christmas Eve and Christmas with Levi’s family.

The food was amazing, and just like he’d told me, his mom sent us home with ridiculous amounts of leftovers. I think her cooking might be the only thing that I’ll eat the day after. It was the first time I actually celebrated Christmas since my mom’s accident.

Today is the anniversary of her death.

December 27th.

The day my life changed forever.

The world wasn’t as bright once she was gone, and I felt like I was grieving alone. At school, my friends treated me as if I were fragile, but then weeks later, it was like it didn’t happen. Everyone else’s lives seemed to go back to normal, and I was the only one who was still hurting.

Even now, I feel like that sometimes.

I’ve had people tell me that it’s great to have had a mother worth missing, but how is that helpful? It’s not. Some have even told me everything happens for a reason. As a thirty-year-old woman, I still don’t see how my mother dying wasmeantto happen. It’s a shitty thing to tell a kid. It’s a shitty thing to tell anyone.

I grieve many things, but now that I’ve gotten older, I can’t help but think about my nieces. They’ll never really know how amazing their grandmother was. They won’t ever feel her warm hugs or hear her infectious laugh. The kindness my mother gave to every person she ever met was unmatched. If I ever get married, she won’t be there to witness it. If I have kids, she won’t get to hold them. Not having my mom around to celebrate my life experiences feels like a continuous knife to the heart.

Typically, on this day, I drown myself in work. Focusing on keeping my mind and body as busy was always my priority, so I’d be exhausted when I got home and would crash. Not giving myself time to think about it has worked for me over the years. Is compartmentalizing my emotions the healthiest thing to do? Absolutely not.

Once my bladder screams out in protest, I wiggle out of Levi’s hold and go to the bathroom. When I’m done, I look in the mirror at my hair that’s a wild mess on top of my head. That’s when I notice the hickey on my neck.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, moving closer to the mirror. “A hickey?”

I hear low chuckling from the doorway where Levi is standing. My eyes dart to him in the reflection, and I can’t help but notice how his joggers hang low on his hips.

I move my neck to the side, pointing at the mark on my neck. “Look what you did!”

Levi moves forward and stands behind me to get a closer view. Dipping down, he licks my neck and gently sucks. “I like marking you as mine.”

Turning until I face him, I look up into his eyes. “I have to go back to work next week, sir. I can’t have deep purple bruises on my neck like a teenager.”

Leaning in, he slides his mouth across my lips, leaving me nearly breathless. “Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

He breaks his hold on me.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” I warn, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

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