The majority of our relationship happened around my house. He spent a lot of time with the kids and me during the evenings and on the weekend and he came over after the kids were in bed most nights to spend time with me alone.
I would worry about our time together and decide that I needed space, but then he would have work to do and I wouldn’t see him for a couple nights and I would realize how deep my attachment for him had grown.
I missed him when I wasn’t with him. My fingers itched to text him or call him and my spirit would wait for him to show up.
And when we were together?
He had been right. It was damn good.
We weren’t perfect people and our relationship was far from utopic, but he had been true to his word to be careful with me, to go slow.
Although slow was hard.
Very hard.
Sometimes I felt like a teenager again with how desperate his kisses could make me. He never pushed beyond that point though, never asked me to make our physical relationship as deep as our emotional one.
And most of the time I was thankful for that. But then he would kiss me intoa frenzy. He would tease my senses and awaken desires I thought had gone dormant forever.
He would bring me back to life in every way and then he would settle me back into lazy contentedness, a lingering passion that made me stretch out like a happy cat and nuzzle into him.
I smiled a secret smile, remembering the feel of his hard body lengthened against mine, of his sensual hands exploring my body, of his breath mingling with mine as he tasted my lips and skin.
He was taking this slow, but my feelings for him seemed to accelerate with every minute spent with him. I should be afraid of that. I should be afraid of our connection and my deepening need for him.
But I couldn’t make myself stop this. My mom was right, I was happy. And I didn’t want to give up being happy to return to the darkness I had just escaped from.
“When did this happen?” she asked breathlessly.
“End of March,” I confessed. “We’re taking this very slow. But, I don’t know mom… This isn’t something I ever expected. I just… I like him.”
She sounded nothing short of awestruck, when she said, “You do?”
Guilt nagged in my gut, “I don’t want you to think that I stopped loving Grady or anything. I mean, obviously I still love him and I… it’s not like… I haven’t forgotten him or tried to forget him, I just-”
“Elizabeth,” my mom interrupted in a way that only my mother could, “I know. I know that this has nothing to do with Grady. I know you too well to bother with worrying about that. I’m just pleasantly surprised. That’s all.”
“Pleasantly surprised?”
“You’re so young, Lizzy. And those kids need a father figure. I just worried about you being all alone. I’m glad you’ve been able to step outside of your grief and get back to the land of the living.”
“I don’t think I ever left the land of the living,” I tried to joke, but it fell flat and lifeless.
“Sweetheart, you did. You checked out. And I don’t blame you for that. But I can feel your light again, your warmth. I don’t know Ben very well, but I’m thankful that he gave it back to you.”
“You know, we’ll probably break up at some point and I’ll drop dead again. You shouldn’t let your hopes get too high.”
She chuckled lightly, “I don’t think you would have started this if you expected that to happen. No matter what happens, your father and I will be here. We love you, you know.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’ve got to let you gothoughor Abby is going to miss her debut on center stage.”
“Give the kids kisses from your father and me!”
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
I clicked off the phone and sunk down onto the step. My mom’s words prickled at my skin. Was she right?
I knew things would eventually end with Ben. I expected them to. Eventually, he would want things from me that I couldn’t give him. We were just too different.
