Mine.
The green in her eyes stands out next to my gray covers when I lean back to search her face, stroking her cheek. Her blonde hair is a tangled mess,proof of how good I just fucked her. She looks perfect and might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking seen.
Jessie was beautiful, of course, but there is something about Sloan, something I can’t explain. It’s justmore.
Fuck, is it okay to think that way?
Sloan’s gentle touch lingers on my arm, her eyes searching mine with a depth of understanding that startles me. “North,” she begins softly. “Where did your mind go right now?”
Her words, so full of empathy, unravel the tightly wound threads of my restraint. I feel the walls around my heart tremble.
I want to talk about it with her, tell her everything.
But is this the right time or place? While she’s still naked in my arms?
“I’m sorry,” I apologize for letting my thoughts turn to my dead wife while I just fucked the girl who holds my heart, my voice barely a whisper.
I’m the fucking worst.
“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what just crossed your mind.” She reaches out to cup my cheek, and I close my eyes and lean into her touch.
I hesitate, but then I bare myself to her, “Is it fair to be this happy, this in love with you?” I turn my head to kiss the palm of her hand, holding the back of it. “I’m thinking that you’re the love of my life, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?—”
“But it makes you think about Jessica.” Sloan nods, but there is no hurt or sadness in her eyes. “Grief is a funny thing. It comes in waves, triggered by the most random things. It’s okay to miss her.”
I shake my head. “That’s not it. I don’t miss her. Fuck, that sounds even worse. Of course, I miss her as the mother of my child and my friend, but not as my wife. I know she’s in a better place now. There was so much wrong with us long before it happened. It’s just… fuck… I don’t know.”
Why did I even start with this?
“Tell me about her,” Sloan whispers, stroking my chest.
I take a deep breath. “Jessie. She was sunshine incarnate. Never had a bad day. Sometimes, it drove me mad.” I huff a bitter laugh. “Anything could happen, and she would still see the good in it. Something I wasn’t able to do, but that’s the thing I miss most about her. The thing I craved when Lio started to get sick. I longed to have her there, to tell me all the positive things still waiting for him, for us.” Sloan doesn’t halt her comforting touch, and I look up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance on it. “I guess she was already fighting a fight I didn’t know about then, but after what happened while we were out in the storm, after we lost Saylor… I left her alone with all of it. I sometimes even wished for her to just leave me alone in my misery so I didn’t have to feel bad for letting her down. I could barely keep myself above water.”
Keep myself living.
“I had a phase where I wanted to fix stuff, and I thought I could break out of my misery for her. Lio is the result of that, but it didn’t last long.”
Her being pregnant should have been the catalyst to push me out of my hole completely, but it was the opposite. It threw me back down.
How could I be a good father when I couldn’t keep myself together long enough to be a good husband?
“I left her alone in all of this,” I whisper, squeezing Sloan to me, feeling cold all of a sudden.
“I already told you. It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers, kissing my chest.
“Maybe. But I didn’t do much to prevent it either.”
And I still hate myself for that.Always will.
“I read a lot about depression after she took her life. And there were signs… a lot of them. But for me, it was a shock, something I never saw coming. My wife, the mother of my child, was gone in an instant, leaving me in a world turned upside down, alone with a baby. Digging my hole ten times deeper.”
Tears blur my vision, the pain of the memory sharp as ever. Sloan’s warm and understanding presence is the only thing keeping me anchored. “I should have done more,” I confess, the words heavy with sorrow. “I should have seen the signs, should have been there. Should have kicked my ass to be there for her. She wanted me home that night. I told her I would be there for dinner. I came home two hours late and found her in the bathtub. The water was red from her blood, and her wrists slit open. I pulled her head out of the water, which was already cold. Her lips were blue, and she was so pale.”
Nothing was left of the vibrant girl I fell in love with years ago.
I have to bite my cheek to keep from crying.I can’t cry in front of Sloan. But it’s almost as if karma is at play for my past teasing of Sloan about always crying because treacherous tears slip down my cheek. “It’s a weight I’ve carried for so long, a weight that’s made me afraid. Afraid to let anyone in.Until you.”
Sloan’s eyes are filled with tears, too, as I finally face her again. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t carry the blame for her choices.”
