The fact that he’s married, but he’s also available, feels like a big change.
I can’t help but insert images of him into my future, wondering what it would be like to no longer be holding the weight that is Shephard.
Chapter Eighteen
Oh, my God, he is so heavy. “Shephard! Get off me!”
He was trying to catch a rogue football but tripped over the firepit and landed right on top of me and my chair. I try pushing him off my lap, but he’s having trouble straightening himself up. He’s probably had too many drinks today, but it’s a party. I don’t blame him.
“Kev, help,” Shephard says, reaching for our neighbor. Kevin finally helps him regain his balance to stand up, but before Shephard runs away to rejoin their game of front-yard football, he leans in and kisses me on the side of the head. “Sorry, babe.”
“You’re good. Go kick some ass.”
The sweet, chaotic sounds of my daughter’s birthday party fill the front yard. Laughter bubbles up from the kids, punctuated by the pop of a balloon. Then Shephard’s booming voice, carrying over the general conversations. “You’ve got to bekiddingme!” he yells. I watch as he falls onto his back in the grass, clutching his forehead in some defeated gesture. Two of the other neighbors are celebrating their win against him and Kev.
A fresh round of giggles erupts as the girls run past me. I can hear Nora in the seat next to me, laughing at whatever conversation she’s having with my neighbor Esther.
It’s a symphony of normal. Of safe.
This is what I love about my life with Shephard. These weekends in the front yard, cooking out, having margaritas while the kids play in the cul-de-sac. Every sun-drenched second here feels like a shield, which is strange, since the cabin feels like a shield fromthislife.
If only I could have both forever. Alternate between the chaotic thrill of Saint and the chaotic normalcy of my family.
But no one can truly have it all without eventually losing it all.
“Where are you?” Nora asks, leaning in, her voice low. “Thinking about the hot cop?”
My gaze snaps guiltily in her direction. She’s grinning.
“What? No.” I respond like she literally meant Saint, but I know she’s only asking if I’m thinking about my book.Guilty much, Petra?
“Wait a second,” Nora says. “I know this look. Petra, did you delete everything? I swear to God, if you changed any of what you sent, I’m going to steal your laptop, recover it, and publish it myself.”
“I didn’t!” I say defensively. “I haven’t deleted anything, I swear.”
She sighs. “Okay. Good. It’s just that every time I’ve tried to talk to you about what you sent, you change the subject. I thought maybe you didn’t want to admit that you trashed it.”
“No, I’m just in wife-and-mom mode this weekend. Not thinking about the book at all.”
“That’s fair,” Nora says. “No work talk at the party.” She holds up her red SOLO cup for a cheers, so I hold mine up too. “To a weekend of not working,” she says.
“And to getting to see you in person for the first time this year,” I add. We click our cups together, and her attention soon drifts back to the conversation she was having with Esther.
I take a sip of my iced tea, watching Andi chase a rogue balloon with a shriek of delight. “Mommy, look!” she yells, her tiny hand outstretched. I’m smiling, about to call out a reply, when my gaze drifts,almost idly, toward something that’s caught my eye at the end of the street.
I almost overlook the vehicle at first. It blends in for the most part. But when my eyes lock in on it, I realize it’s almost camouflaged by the dense shade of the old oak trees lining the curb. It looks like it’s been swallowed by the shadows, deliberately.
My breath hitches, catching painfully in my throat.
My iced tea glass slips from my damp hand. I immediately try to recover it, but watch helplessly as it falls quietly onto the grass with a thud, going unnoticed by everyone around me.
No. It can’t be. He would not drive this far.
But the sheer, undeniable presence of that car, even from this distance, screams his name.
A knot of icy anxiety tightens in my stomach, quickly followed by a hot, furious surge of anger that makes my hands clench into fists.
The nerve.
