“We’ve been together for fifteen years; we’ve both hurt each other.”
“Yeah, but—”
The school bell cuts me off. Emma’s head whips toward the sound. She grimaces then turns back, grabbing my hands.
“Can we talk about this later?” Her palm cups my cheek, and I lean into it, every cell in my body pulling toward the spot. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
The gold in her eyes flickers under the sunlight, making her look more vibrant. More alive. The eyes I catch in only fleeting glimpses. The eyes of the person she used to be. The young, fearless Emma. The one who never took no for an answer, who dreamed of living in Paris to study art, who was so certain of herself she never let anyone believe otherwise.
Then it hits me. My hands fly to her face, cupping her cheeks.
“What are you doing?” She gapes at me. I probably look wild. I feel wild, staring at her unblinking.
“Stev—”
“Shh, I’m remembering.”
Her eyes go wide, and she clamps her mouth shut, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. As distracting as it is, I force myself to focus, tracing the green, gold, and brown swirling in her eyes.
Art school. Our first date. Darts.Karaoke.
A sound breaks out of me, half-groan, half-laugh. “Did I stand on top of a table?”
Her hands fly to her mouth, gasping. “You remember?”
“Just bits and pieces.”
Tears spill down her cheeks, and a wide, elated grin spreads across her face. Her lip trembles, but words fail her as her eyes roam over mine, soaking in every line, every expression, like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“It’ll come back,” I whisper, still cupping her face, letting my thumbs brush over her cheekbones. “We will be okay.”
She wraps her arms around my waist, holding on like she never wants to let go. Then another bell rings, and I know I can’t keep her any longer. She groans into my chest, and I kiss the top of her head, breathing in the faint vanilla scent of her shampoo before she releases, slowly retreating toward the school.
We don’t say anything else. Letting the “we will be okay” hang between us.
For me, it means us, together. We will be okay.
But for her? I’m not sure.
The doors close behind her, and I stand there, staring at the spot she disappeared through, trying to hold onto the memories before I lose them again. I feel all over the place, with pieces scattered or jumbled entirely. It might seem impossible to get everything back, but there is one thing I know for sure.
I love her. I love Emma.
I loved her then, and I love her now. That part didn’t get erased.
Every piece of me still belongs to her, and I’m going to fix whatever broke between us.
If it takes time, fine. I’ll cook, clean, play Legos for five hours so she can read her book if that’s what it takes.
I’ve lost enough already. I won’t lose my wife too.
Chapter twenty-eight
Emma
“You’resurethisisa good idea?” Jay’s hoarse voice fills the car as the boys climb into their seats.
“Hi, Aunt Jay!”
