Chapter 27
Jensen
Shifting as Beck pulls me to him, I throw my other leg around his lap and hold him tight as he lets out all the emotions he was holding back from that call.
“She remembered me, she hasn’t recognized me in two years,” he cries and his arms pull me in tighter. “Part of me made peace that she never would again…”
My heart falls down to my stomach. “Beck, honey…” My words die off because what do I say? It’s okay? It’s not, here he is already mourning his mom for years—there’s not much to say in this grief to make someone feel better.
Taking a few deep breaths, Beck pulls back to wipe at his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Pulling his hands away I replace them with my own. “There’s no need to apologize.”
Beck’s glossy eyes lock with mine. “I just…that was a lot. Amazing, and I’m grateful for every moment of clarity I get from her, but…I think it might have been easier had she not remembered me.” Beck retreats farther back on the couch and runs his hands over his face. “Dammit, that’s a horrible thing to say.”
“No, no, it’s not.” I reach for him again, pulling his arms back to my waist and forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me, that’s not horrible. You’ve been grieving your mom for so long, you’re allowed to have mixed emotions about it.”
He lets out another deep breath. “I just wish this wasn’t happening to her.”
My heart breaks. Leaning in, I hug him tight. I know exactly what he means because there were so many times that I thought the same exact thing for Stella, for my mom, for myself. His arms squeeze my back, and I whisper, “I wish that too.”
Neither of us move for several minutes. I try to keep my breathing in line with his, in hopes it encourages a panic attack to stay at bay. I can’t tell for sure if one’s even stirring in him, but it doesn’t matter, I want to be here. I want to be his comfort in this moment.
Eventually, Beck’s arms move to my shoulders. Sitting back up, his hands glide my hair softly behind my ears. “Thank you.”
I find a soft smile. “Of course, what do you think about us having a lazy day?”
His eyebrows pull together. “Don’t you work tonight?”
“I took it off. That’s why I was at Winedown. I helped Mia with some restocking and asked her if I could get the afternoon off.”
Beck breaths out an amusedhumph. “Did you get this gut feeling that I was going to be in need of some emotional support?”
I chuckle. “Something like that.”
Something in my gut was telling me to take off work this morning. Something in my gut is telling me that there’s no moving on from Beck, and as much as I’d love to lay it all out there, I know today probably isn’t the best time for that.
“What should we do then, Killer?”
“How does breakfast for dinner and some pool sound?”
Beck sits up and places a kiss on my neck. “Sounds pretty amazing.”
Getting up from the couch, we make our way to the kitchen, taking note of all the things Beck has in his kitchen then the stuff we need from the store. All it took was one whine from Dottie to convince Beck to bring her along for the ride.
We had a bit of a debate on whether we were going sweet or savory for our breakfast dinner. To which Beck ultimately declared tonight would be savory with bacon, chorizo, eggs, and diced potatoes, then he was going to make pancakes in the morning.
Beck pops the potatoes in the air fryer while I crack the eggs in a bowl. “You know, we didn’t have time for me to make it today, but next time let me know when you want to make breakfast for dinner and I’m going to make my mother’s menudo.”
The sentence comes out, and when it registers at how that sounded I grimace a bit. We’ve had such a normal couple of hours, following a very heavy moment. The idea that we might not do this again is one I don’t love, but could be our reality.
Beck thankfully seems unfazed by it as he moves around pulling out different pans for the stove. “Oh yeah, why not tonight?”
“Didn’t have enough time. Typically, you need about three-ish hours, but my mom would cook it on low overnight.” A smile comes to my face as the memory itself practically has the smell along with it.
“Overnight?” Beck asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, overnight.” I chuckle. “My dad asked her the same question the first time she made it for him. She loves to bring up because she still makes fun of him for asking that to this day.”
