“You NEVER ask me for help!” he roars, throwing his hands in the air. He turns to me, his face so contorted with anger that I have no choice but to back up into the wall directly behind me.
“You don’t need me! You never need me! I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here!” He swipes his arm across the end table, taking out our brand new lamp. As it crashes to the ground, and breaks into a million pieces, I can’t help but think of how perfectly metaphorical that is for our relationship right about now.
“Your girls! Your house! Your baby! What happened to our life, Alex? Those are supposed to be our girls! This is supposed to be our house! You are carrying our son!” I flinch at his words, not because he’s yelling, but because they pierce my heart.
I continue to watch him from a distance, walking back and forth, reeling over whatever’s going on in his mind. I don’t dare speak. I just watch as the anger works its way through his mind and body.
After a long while, he seems to finally calm down a bit and stops pacing, ending up at the window. Pressing his forearm against the pane, he leans in and blankly stares at the swing set in our backyard.
“We’re supposed to be partners in this, Alex, but instead, we’re two strangers, living two separate lives, inhabiting the same living space. I sold my house and bought a new one with you, and while it’s technically our house, it’s still only your home. I have absolutely no say so in anything, including the baby’s room. Even when it comes to the girls, when I try to help you raise them as I should be doing, you won’t let me.” He shakes his head, defeated. “Hell, I can’t even help you screw in a goddamn light bulb.”
He turns to face me, hurt and pain etched into his features. Obviously frustrated, he raises his hands to his face, and after scrubbing it fiercely, rakes them through his hair. He takes a small step towards me, most likely testing my fight or flight response. When I stay in place, he continues, moving towards me while he speaks.
“You know, when you came to Colorado, I was so happy. That was one of the best days of my life because after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, you were finally mine. And that day you did let me into your heart, but when do you actually let me into your life, Alex?” His pleading eyes fill with tears. My heart aches for him.
Taking a brief moment to reflect, I come to a realization. I knew being married again would be an adjustment; being married the first time was hard enough. But, instead of trying to include him, I just went on with my daily routine because during the last few years, I fought to be able to do that. To do for my children what I feared the loss of Derek would render me incapable of doing. So, instead of asking him to help, I went on with the only way I knew how to live, and that was completely unfair to him. He’s absolutely right.
But, if he would have just told me how he felt…
No insinuations, no under the breath after thoughts during an argument, but a pull me aside, “You’re being an asshole” conversation, I would have understood how he felt and this situation could’ve been completely avoided.
So much wasted time.
“How long have you felt this way?” I take a step towards him, encouraging him to speak.
“For a while.”
With a sympathetic smile, I reach forward and take his hand. He laces his fingers with mine and squeezes tightly. Stepping into him, I wrap my arms around his waist and place my ear against his chest; the rapid beating of his heart begins to slow and the sound comforts me. I take in a deep breath, his intoxicating scent washing away every ounce of apprehension.
“Blake,” my head remains against him as I speak, “I love you so, so much. I hope you know that. I hope you believe me when I tell you this. Because as sure as my heart beats, you have given me life again…in more ways than one.” When he says nothing, I release my hold on him and take a step back, raising my head to meet those gorgeous green eyes that have healed me so many times before.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I guess,” I add with a shrug of my shoulders, “I’ve just grown accustomed to a certain way of living my life, but, you’re right, Blake. I should have made more of an effort to change when you came into ours.” He looks away and I place my finger under his chin, bringing him back into my line of sight. “But, that’s my issue. It has nothing to do with you or the way I feel about you. You are my family.” His eyes search for anything but mine, and it kills me. He needs to understand this.
“Blake, please baby, listen to me. Look at me.” When his eyes finally meet mine, I peer into them, willing him to understand. “You. Are. My. Family. Too.” I watch a lone tear as it falls down his cheek. Reaching up, I lightly graze my fingers across his forehead, and when he looks back at me, I swipe the hair away from his eyes and cup my palm against his moist face. I lock eyes with him so that he understands the importance of my next statement.
“That being said, you can’t keep these kinds of feelings bottled up. You have to talk to me because I can’t help fix something that I don’t know is broken. And we have been very, very broken these last few weeks, Blake.” He tries to break my gaze, but my hand keeps his eyes on mine.
“If you would have just said something, it would have saved us a lot of heartache.” I pause, giving him a half-smile. “And our new lamp,” I add with a small laugh. He lightly chuckles, and relief and hope flood my heart.
“Look, we both know I’ve made plenty of mistakes,” I tilt my head down and look at him from underneath my lashes to further emphasize my point. “But I also know that the key to a successful marriage is communication. You have to be able to talk to me, Blake. I. Am. Your. Wife.”
Without breaking eye contact, Blake slowly lifts his hand to gently tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear, then softly runs his knuckles down my cheek. A shiver spreads throughout my entire body in response to his touch. “I know, Alex. I know. And I’m sorry, too. I should’ve never raised my voice like that. It’s just…Jesus, Alex…You could’ve been seriously hurt. I don’t know what I would do if–”
Pushing onto my tiptoes, I crush my lips to his before he can finish his sentence.
No more wasted time.
Deepening the kiss with my tongue, I force him back until his shoulders hit the wall. He grips the back of my neck with one hand, threading his fingers through my hair while the other tightens on my lower back; our kiss becoming more and more frenzied. His breath becomes my breath, his tongue dipping into my mouth, possessively stroking mine and making me feverish. My hands move hastily over his body, tugging at his clothes, desperate to be as close to him as possible. As he slowly moves his hand from my waist to cup me between my legs, a gasp of pleasure escapes from my throat, making me bite down on his lower lip and grind myself against his hand. He groans and suddenly his mouth is no longer on mine. We stare at each other, breathless, our bodies humming with anticipation. As his thumb gently brushes over my jaw, he whispers, “My Alex…”
He slowly moves his hand upwards from between my legs, stopping at my belly. For an extended moment, I feel his silent desperation, his fear of losing what we created as his eyes burn into mine. Moving his hand around my waist, he runs it up and down the curve of my spine almost reverently, but never loosening his grip at my nape, never breaking eye contact. His hand gradually moving lower and lower with each gentle down stroke, he growls lowly as he grabs hold of my backside and pulls me into him. “God, I’ve missed you so much,” he moans.
Taking my mouth again, his tongue furiously grazes every inch of my mouth and I match his movements. There is a sense of urgency and need in his kiss, as though his body is making up for lost time. In that moment, I need him to own me and he needs to know that I am his. “I need you inside me, Blake,” I say panting and pushing my body even more into his. There can’t be any space between us; I’m desperate for our bodies to join, for our skin to touch everywhere.