I grab a beer out of the fridge and pop it open, lifting it to mylips and downing half of it before I cringe and set it down. I’d forgotten about the pain meds. Shit.
Sinking into one of the chairs at the dining table, I pick up the yet unopened envelope that I’ve been staring at for weeks now. I pick it up, carry it with me through the house. Sit and stare at it some more. Now, I pick it up and tap one corner of it on the table in front of me.
I just can’t bring myself to open it. To read it. I don’t want to know what my dads last words are to me. I’d almost thrown it away without opening it, but then had sworn viciously and dug it back out, slapping it down on the counter and stalking off. Leaving it for another day.
I keep telling myself I’ll read it when I get back from the next fire.
And then I get back from the fire and I do this all over again, just staring at it. Just to toss it aside and tell myself ‘after the next fire, I’ll open it’.
A soft, timid knock on the glass patio door turns my head, and I smile before standing. Teddy is there, waiting for me to let her in. My beautiful girl.
She’s got the baby monitor clutched in one hand as she steps inside. I curl my arms around her at the same time she twines hers around my waist gently. We stand like that for a long time, simply breathing each other in, reveling in the closeness. I can feel her heart beating against my chest, the little way her lips flit over my pecs as she presses kisses to where I know she can feel my own heart beating.
“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the table where the envelope sits.
I sigh, tightening my arms around her shoulders and pressing my cheek to the top of her head. “It’s a letter from my dad.”
“Your dad?” she whispers, surprise lifting her tone.
I nod. “My brother is moving and found it stuck in with someof his stuff. He sent it back to me, but I haven’t been able to read it.”
“I had a voicemail from Logan that I refused to listen to after he died,” she whispers, spreading her fingers wide across my back. She scoffs lightly. “Once I finally convinced myself to listen to it, I was so mad.”
“What did he say?” I ask, rubbing my uninjured cheek against her head.
She shakes her head, another scoffing laugh escaping her. “Just that he loved me and that he would see me after shift.” I squeeze my arms around her. “I was so angry at him for leaving. For not coming home after the end of that shift. Leaving me alone with our two kids and pregnant with another baby. I deleted it and then cried because I wanted it back.”
I chuckle lightly, rocking us together gently. “You’re not really selling me on reading this letter, sweetheart.”
She shrugs. “You’ll never know until you do.” She tips her chin up so she can look up at me then. “Are you coming to bed?”
Smoothing the fingers of my left hand over her hair, I kiss her chastely. “Probably not tonight, Mama. I’m going to be tossing and turning all night and I don’t want to keep you up.”
“I don’t mind,” she whispers against my lips and I smile. “Please don’t make me sleep without you tonight. I need to know you’re okay, that you’re here.”
I hate that she worries about me, but I know there’s no point in telling her not to. “Okay.”
“No funny business,” she warns, glaring at me adorably. I laugh, reaching around her to turn off the lights.
“If you think a couple cuts will keep me from fucking you tonight, you’re sorely mistaken, beautiful.”
“Xander…”
“Yes, Mama?” I murmur, dragging her into my arms once again. Dropping my mouth to hers, I kiss her thoroughly.
She sighs, her eyelids fluttering open to stare up at me. “That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“Kissing me to distract me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” I ask, nipping at her lower lip. She moans, and I smile.
That’s what I thought.
She tugs me by my left hand through the patio door and over to hers. Honestly, her duplex is more my place than my own is at this point. I haven’t slept in my own bed in weeks, and I can’t even lie, I don’t really want to. Wherever she is, is where I want to be, too.
A dim lamp has been kept on in the corner of her bedroom, softly illuminating the room. She sets the baby monitor on the bedside table and then turns toward me, her hands reaching for me.
