The next night is a little easier but he still isn’t able to leave our bed.
It isn’t until another week after the funeral that he is finally able to sleep in his own bed.
Melissa is doing better. She has her moments but she usually excuses herself when they happen. A few times, I find her in the shower, or sitting deep in the closet falling into herself, but I am able to talk her around.
Bottom line is that no one in my house is handling the situation well. It isn’t until another week has passed that I remember Izzy’s psychologist. She specializes in grief and PTSD, and has helped both Izzy and myself after I almost lost my life trying to save hers. It doesn’t take any convincing to get Melissa on board. She knows that we aren’t going to heal until we talk to someone, express our loss, our fears, and everything in between.
That is the first day that I see some life come back into her eyes. That is when I know that we will be okay, that we will get past this.
Melissa
I don’t remember much from the days following my mother’s murder. I remember waking up a few times and seeing Izzy, or one of the guys. I remember crying for Cohen and crying for Greg, but for the most part, the days that followed are blank. I don’t want to remember those days when the pain was so raw I feared it would consume me. I didn’t want to remember the fear that consumed me when I thought I would never see Cohen again, never get to listen to him go on and on about ninjas or wieners. And I don’t want to think about what I felt when I thought I was going to lose Greg too.
I do remember what it felt like when I watched his truck pull into the driveway, and I saw his face and the shadow of my sleeping little man in the backseat. I do remember the head-to-toe reaction that my body had when Greg stepped out of the truck and I fell into his arms.
When Izzy told me he was on his way home with Cohen, I knew without a doubt that there was nothing this man wouldn’t do if he felt it was best for his family.
We don’t talk about the details of his trip to bring Cohen home. I don’t want to know. What we do talk about now is how lucky we are. We have been given a chance that few in our position ever have. A second chance at life.
CHAPTER 28
Melissa
It’s been two month since we lost my mom and almost lost Cohen. Today we are going out to celebrate my twenty-ninth birthday. The plans aren’t really anything special, but it’s just another way we are staying on our path back to normal.
Cohen is almost back to the little boy he was before all of this. He still has days that he will ask for my mom, but now that his time is filled with constant Greg bonding, he is finally moving on.
“Melissa?” I’ve been in the bathroom getting ready for the last fifteen minutes. He’s lucky that it doesn’t take me years to get ready, but my men are ready to eat so they don’t mind rushing me.
“In here, babe!” I call out the door before returning to the mirror to finish applying my mascara.
“You almost ready?” he asks and bends to kiss my temple. “Cohen is ready, cape and all.”
Of course he is. One of these days, he might take that thing off but right now, it might as well be surgically attached.
“Almost.” I cap the mascara and turn, fisting his shirt and pulling him towards me. When my lips meet his, I run my hands up his solid chest before pushing my fingers into his hair. He hums his approval into my mouth and just like that, we forget the world around us.
When he grabs my ass and pulls me to his body, I know I accidently woke the beast. Pulling away, offer him a look of regret before speaking, “Sorry, I really just wanted a kiss before we left.”
“Happy to accommodate you Beauty, but let’s make sure the next time you want a kiss like that, that we aren’t about to go meet up with the gang to have dinner. Sitting around for hours and shooting the shit is no fun when my dick is about to be strangled by my pants.” I start to laugh and turn to walk out into the bedroom, almost knocking Cohen over in the process.
“Daddy? What’s a dick and why are your pants hurting him?” I turn back and look at Greg. His face is open with astonishment and his cheeks have a little color on them. Who would have thought that it’s actually possible to shock the man.