Atlas and I share a look. How did we build trust in our relationship? We started so young; we've known each other for two decades.
All of that trust built up was fractured in one year, but not broken. I still feel it coursing through me, patching itself up each day that Atlas shows up. When he calls me when he's scared.
"It just built organically," I tell Dr. D'Amore, who smiles like I just answered the question right. "Over the last... twenty years."
She nods. "You both want to still be together, correct?"
"Yes," Atlas and I practically shout at the same time, before sharing another amused look.
"So..." she shrugs, smiling at both of us. "Date each other."
???
Atlas walks me to my car after our appointment.
But I don't get in the car once we're there, and Atlas doesn't wave goodbye and walk away.
We linger by the front, Atlas looking at me, me looking at him, enjoying the sight of my very handsome husband. He grins widely when he catches me looking.
"I think that went well..." I murmur, and he nods, though his eyes go a little sad.
"I think so too. I'm so sorry for missing the first appointment. I just keep thinking that maybe—"
"What?" I encourage him to continue.
He hesitates before sighing, "Maybe we could be back to where we were by now. Maybe I'd be further along with my treatment. I'd be home by now."
"It's a marathon, not a sprint, honey," I step closer, and his eyes light up at the pet name. "And I don't want to go back. We can't go back—"
"But we can make something even better," he finishes softly.
I smile at him before an idea strikes me.
Date each other.
"Are you hungry?" I ask, and his eyes widen in surprise, before relief fills them, like he had been wanting to ask me that question. He doesn't want to part yet, just like I don't.
"I could eat," he shrugs, acting casual, and it makes me laugh.
"Antonia's?"
"Here, I'll drive—I wanna see how the car feels," he says, holding out his hand where I place the keys without a second thought. Before I pull away, he closes his hand around mine, keeping me there. "Thank you, baby."
I step forward and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He freezes, like a statue, and I feel his entire body shudder before his big arms come around me. My husband folds me in his safe, warm embrace, and I feel the tears sting my eyes. This is the first time he's held me like this since that night I served him, when I broke down in his arms.
This feels like heaven.
I bury my face in his shoulder, and his hand presses to the back of my head, his other arm around my back, pulling me closer and closer to him.
I melt into him, and hitch a sob when I feel him press a lingering kiss to my hair, inhaling deeply while I'm doing thesame to him.
"Wendy, my baby..." he whispers, his voice cracking.
"My Atlas..."
My hands clutch the back of his shirt, wrinkling the nice fabric, but I don't care.
I'm home.
