AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I think about making her mine wholly and completely.
And legally.
And wonder how long I can wait for that to happen.
And I think about sex.
A fucking lot.
That’s because my dick seeks Livy at all times. He’d deal with my hand. But after the first time, when I was so fucking excited to see him rise and shine that I gave him a high five for as long as he would allow, I’ve refused.
I want her.
On my first night here, I shaved my beard. I hadn’t looked at myself or seen my face since the accident. It was mental more than anything. I dig the beard, but I needed to stare at a lot more than hollow cheeks and pallid skin. Shaving was a symbolic way of removing the mask and reminding myself over and over again that I had one goal.
One ridiculously hard, ugly, brutal goal — own my life with nothing owning me back.
No football, no ghosts, no what-might-have-beens, no numbing.
I get one life. One that includes an amazing childhood. Call it privileged. Call it whatever. We had space and freedom and parents who loved us. I had siblings who were good to me and still are. I had a natural talent that took me to college and set me up financially. It let me meet some of the most interesting people on the planet, some amazing friends, and, ultimately, the love of my life.
I’ve taken my time here seriously. So much so that I haven’t allowed a visitor other than Sarah. And that’s because she fits with the one goal. I can deal with pain. I’ve done it my whole life. But I need to make my body something I can be proud of. Something that can play with Kyle without being winded. Something that can pleasure Livy… protect her, hold her, and make her come. Something that will allow me to hold our babies or toddlers, however we make that happen.
My pen scratches across my journal. The sound is soothing now where it used to grate on my nerves.
“Layton?”
I look up to see Cynthia from the rehab management office holding a cordless phone. “You have a phone call.”
“Does that mean—?” I stand and head to the door, accepting the handheld unit. “Hello?”
“Hey, son. We’re in a clock run-off situation.”
I can accept that reference without it hurting. “Yeah?”
“Willa’s water broke. Contractions aren’t close yet. They’re not on their way to the hospital, but I wanted you to have some heads-up.”
“Thanks, Pop. Any idea how long now?”
“No clue. I’d say within twenty-four hours.” There’s a heavy pause. “Do you still want to be there?”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
The fact that I hear him exhale says so much about how he’s worried.
“Pop?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m okay. And I’m on my way to being better than okay.”
There’s nothing in response.
“I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry for taking your worry for granted. I’m okay. I’ll tell you more about it soon, but I wanted to apologize and thank you for all you’ve done. Not the least of which was dropping everything to rush to my bedside and stay with me for who knows how long.”
“It was a rough go. It’s been a shit couple of years. But I’m glad you’re back. I’m so damn proud of you. Don’t know that you’ll ever know how proud I am of you for all you’ve accomplished.”
“That means a lot. Now how long do I have before I see you and the family and Livy?”
