She bites her lower lip. “Yeah, because that’s how they usually go, but mine was different. I don’t want to bore you with details?—”
I hold her hand, stopping her from continuing. “Natalie, you could never bore me. I’m here to listen to whatever you want to share, as little or as much as you want.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I know I told you I had a hysterectomy before, but I didn’t explain why. When I was in thehospital delivering Vero, everything was normal at first, but it changed quickly, turning into a nightmare. I was in the middle of labor when I felt a really intense pain, like nothing I’ve experienced before.” She closes her eyes, as if she’s going back to that day. My heart breaks for her, and I don’t know how to help her. But that day, weeks ago, when I was unraveling, all I needed was someone who would listen. She did that for me, and I’m glad I get to do the same for her too.
I hold her hand as she continues. “They kept telling me I was fine, that labor hurt like that, but I knew something was wrong, and then I could see it in their faces. They looked at me in a way I had seen once before, the night Nick died. I knew something was wrong, but nobody was saying anything. Then, I passed out. I woke up hours later, and they had to explain she went into fetal distress, and with me passing out, they had to perform an emergency C-section. They didn’t want to risk it, so they did this incision instead of the other one.”
“We talked about this. You have nothing to worry about. I like every part of you, including your scars.”Loveis what I want to say.I love every part of you,but I don’t, especially with her shaking her head.
“No. The scar is not the worst thing that happened that day. They, um, they found out the pain I described and her heart rate dropping was due to a rupture in my uterus, and, well, they couldn’t save it. I had my baby, a baby we tried to have for years, a baby who came after countless miscarriages—actually, no, not countless. Eight, because each one of them deserves to be recognized for their short time earth-side. A baby who came to bring me so much hope, especially after her dad died a few months before, but they couldn’t save my ability to carry more children.”
“Natalie,” I whisper.
“So you not using a condom is not a big deal, especially if you know you don’t have any STDs, as I couldn’t have another baby even if I tried."
I bring her to me, wrapping her in my arms and letting her tears fall, letting her cry and grieve so much loss. Her baby suffering in the womb, her soulmate dying, losing her uterus—all things out of her control. My heart breaks for her. How can someone who looks so happy and content all the time have gone through so much in such a short life? It’s not fair.
“Life isn’t fair,” she replies, letting me know I said those words out loud. She pushes away from me, wiping her tears, a forced smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace.”
“You don’t have to pretend to be okay. I’m here if you ever need someone not to be okay around, okay?”
She drops a kiss on my lips, while I consider her, here, and how much I don’t want this to end.
I could look at her forever, but I jolt out of bed instead. If I don’t, I’m going to stay here forever, and she needs to be back before she goes to the store. It’s early, but we have an hour drive to her place.
Her eyes roam my body as I walk around my room naked, grabbing a pair of sweats that rest on my hips. I smile, but she doesn’t notice; her eyes are everywhere but on my face. I used to have the whole hockey body thing so many people go crazy about, but I don’t anymore. I work out to stay strong, but I eat whatever I want and don’t focus on the six-pack. I want to be strong and healthy, but you’d think I was still in my prime, judging by how Natalie is staring.
When she catches the way I’m watching her looking at me, she blushes with more than her cheeks. Her neck, chest, and even her arms are covered in crimson red, and I love it. My eyes rake her body too, unable to stop at how the thin sheets dip onher full hips, wishing she were fully uncovered too. “You’re a work of art, you know that?”
“Oh, stop.”
“I mean it. You are. I’m so lucky you’re here with me today, and I will never take it for granted.” I dip my knees on the bed, holding her hand and dropping a kiss right on it. I grab her phone from the nightstand, pointing at the charger on the other side. “Stay here. I’ll go make coffee, but put this on the charger. It died last night.”
I walk out, leaving her in my bed. My bed that now smells like her. What a blessing and a curse. In the kitchen, Chili is happily by my feet in no time. “Hi, girl,” I greet, petting her.
“Oh!” Right behind me, a fully dressed Natalie mentions.
“Natalie, this is Chili. Chili, Natalie.” She gets closer, squatting to my goat’s level and petting her.
“I thought I told you I would bring you coffee in bed.”
“Yeah, but we don’t have much time before we have to go. I have to get back and shower before heading to the store. I can’t work all day in this dress.”
I shrug. “Works for me.”
“I bet it does.” She winks, walking around the kitchen island and sitting on a stool, making herself at home.
How do I keep her like this with me? How can I make this work?
I make the coffee as I ponder everything I learned about Natalie and her life. Her scars were beautiful to me before. I knew she had gone through a lot with the loss of her husband, but seeing them and hearing everything she went through after will challenge me forever to be a better person, someone worthy of her. Each scar, each mark, is a reminder of how strong she is. They’re a testament of how beautiful, resilient, and strong not only she is, but her body too. How much she’s been through, howshe’s come out the other side as the wonderful person she is. And that’s even sexier.
I quietly slide a white mug with coffee, brown sugar, and cream in front of Natalie. It’s not her perfect coffee, but it will do. I look up to tell her as much, but the sight frightens me. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go back now. Vero’s sick.”
“Yes, of course. Let me put a shirt on, and we can go.”
In no time, we’re in my car heading back. She’s been on the phone with her friend, talking to her and giving her directions on what to do. It seems like we’re going to the hospital instead of her house.
