We sit together, watching as the sun warms the horizon and turns the sky a beautiful shade of pink, as if it brings the city to light before us.
It’s beautiful, something I wish I were awake to see every morning. But while my sickness has subsided, giving me my mornings back, I doubt that waking up this early will become a regular thing. Or at least, not until our little one is here, disrupting our sleeping patterns like it’s his full-time job.
Finally, he opens his mouth, his deep, rumbling voice startling me when he begins speaking.
“Do you really think I can do this?”
The pain etched into his voice cuts right through me, making a lump crawl up my throat and tears burn my eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you can do anything you can set your mind to,” I say softly. “But I’m assuming you’re talking about something specific.”
“I had a dream,” he confesses. “A nightmare, really.”
I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to talk if he’d like to.
“When I was a kid, I used to get them all the time. I haven’t had one in years.”
A tremor goes through him. I close my eyes for a second, and all I can see is Everett as a little boy, sitting scared and alone in the dark.
I scoot a little closer, loving the way his body heats the side of mine.
“As I started succeeding at hockey, they went away. I’d forgotten they were even a thing until I woke up in a cold sweat an hour or so ago.”
Questions dance on the tip of my tongue, but I keep them locked inside.
He doesn’t owe me any answers. He has no reason to confide any of this in me.
“In every single one, I fail at something,” he says so quietly I almost miss it. “At first, it was school, screwing up tests, disappointing my parents. Not being there for Parker or Linc when they needed me. For a while, it was hockey. Missing an open shot, letting my team down. But they faded. I’m not sure when. High school, I think. I guess I just…I stopped having them and moved on.”
“What was last night’s about?” I ask softly.
“Failing you. Failing our kid. Letting you both down.” His voice cracks, my breath catches and my nose itches with emotion.
“Oh, Rett,” I breathe, shifting from my seat on the floor and climbing into his lap.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold his trembling body as tightly as I can.
“Y-You needed me and…and I couldn’t get there,” he explains brokenly. “And then…I lost you. Both of you.”
He sucks in a shuddering breath as I cling tighter, hoping like hell that he can get some strength from it.
“It was just a nightmare. We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Right now, you’re not. What about…what about when I fuck up? Because I will, Bea. I’ll fuck up. I’ll fuck up over and over and?—”
“So will I,” I interrupt. “We’re only human, Rett. We screw up all the freaking time. Just look at me and what I got myself into financially,” I say, cringing. I’m so ashamed that I made a decision that put my salon and my employees at risk.
“That wasn’t?—”
“It was all my fault. I knew all the facts?—”
“No, you were scammed,” he argues without hesitation. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Pulling back from the crook of his neck, I stare into dark, pain-filled eyes.
“I wish you could have the same faith in yourself that you do in me,” I murmur.
A self-deprecating smile pulls at one side of his mouth. “Years of fucking up will do that.”
