Cecily lets the water run over her hand, washing away my spend. I turn off the shower, and we both climb out. Grabbing a fluffy towel off the rack, I dry her off first, then myself. Cecily pulls on my T-shirt, and when she brushes her teeth once, I do it three times. Anything to get the habanero out of my mouth.
She laughs at me, and waits for me in bed. When I pull on my pajama pants, she crooks an eyebrow and says, "I'm surprised you're not taking this opportunity to sleep naked."
I pull back the covers and slide in beside her. "I noticed you put on underwear. I figured if you were erecting a barrier, I should, too."
Should we talk about what I said?I'm going to fuck my wife the way a husband should.It would be easy to talk about, if I didn't mean it. But I mean it.
Cecily snuggles into my side, her head on my bare chest. She has unwound the knot she put in her hair, and now it flows like a river over my arm and the bed. While I rub her back, her fingers turn circles over my chest.
"Kerrigan asked me some questions tonight that made me think." Her tone is contemplative.
"What kind of questions?" I ask, my thumb stroking over her shoulder blade.
"She wanted to know what life looks like for me and you once this is over. She asked if we're going to say our goodbyes and retreat to opposite sides of the country." Her voice sounds despondent. Fearful.
It's exactly what we talked about. What we planned. But... "Is that what you want?"
Cecily pushes up onto an elbow, her face a handful of inches from mine. "What if I said no?" Her head shakes, just a little."I don't know how it all works, Dom. I don't know the details. I only know that you going back to New York feels like losing you. And losing you feels like"—she shrugs—"loss."
The soft glow of the nightstand lamp reveals the sorrow etched on her face, matching her tone. Perfectly matching how I feel inside.
"I don't want to lose you, Cecily."
She lays her head back down on my chest. "I don't want to lose you either."
We leave it at that. When Cecily's breath becomes rhythmic, I stretch out my arm and turn off the lamp. Even then, I cannot go to sleep. I stare at the ceiling, Cecily wrapped in my arms sleeping peacefully, and think about her admission in the bathtub.
For years, Cecily has carried around the idea that she is difficult to love.
I cannot imagine anything easier than loving this woman.
CHAPTER 42
Cecily
After a day spent exploringSierra Grande, we say our official goodbyes to Bernice and climb into the Road Kraken.
Following a unanimous vote, Dom is driving the motor home to Sedona. Like the good little wife I am, I grab the passenger seat. Dom, sexy as hell in his aviators, does not look like he should be operating this gigantic vehicle. That role belongs to middle-aged and above dads wearing T-shirts from the places they've visited tucked into jean shorts pulled up too high on their waists, and blindingly white clunky tennis shoes.
I'm sure everybody passing us as we climb north on the interstate is doing a double take.
Dom's playlist blares from his phone, grabbing the interest of my dad.
"Classic rock guy, Dom?" Dad stands between our seats, one hand on each to brace himself.
"Uh, yeah," Dom answers, briefly glancing up at my dad before returning his gaze to the interstate. "My dad was always listening to classic rock when he repaired our car. I guess it stuck with me."
"We should meet your parents when this road trip is over. Maybe we'll be one big, happy family." Dad laughs.
I try not to stare at him. One big, happy family? Who is this man standing beside me? First, my mother, and now him. "Have you been micro-dosing with Kerrigan?"
Annoyance passes over his features. "No, Cecily, I haven't."
Duke walks up behind my dad, staring out the windshield the same way.
"I thought one rule of the motor home is that everybody is supposed to be seated while it's operating?" I ask.
"Kind of surprised you care about rules," Duke says, blank-faced.
