I began slicing some onion. “It’s okay to want a family, Koti.”
She laughed without an ounce of humor. “Yeah, uh, I’d be a great mom. ‘Hold on honey, mommy’s having an anxiety attack in the pantry because I can’t handle making a hundred cupcakes for your class tomorrow.’” She spun on the stool animatedly delivering her own self-deprecating blows as my chest cracked for her.
“Thousands of people with anxiety have children, stop it.”
“I full-on had a meltdown because I wasn’t sure if God existed today. Do you think it’s okay to subject your child to that?”
I set the oven temperature and leaned over the counter. “You were in a car accident, it’s okay to feel—however the hell you want to feel—after something like that happens. Stop hurting yourself with lies.”
Imploring eyes sought mine. “Are you afraid to die, Ian?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s a part of life I accepted when I was a soldier and I grew immune to death, as tragic as that sounds.”
“Where did they go, Ian? When your friends died, where did they go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how are you not afraid?”
“Because if it’s nothingness then we aren’t aware of it and if God exists, we have to assume it’s a place far better than the one we’re standing in. Those are the two options, right?”
“Guess so. Well… there’s hellfire and damnation for being faithless.”
“See, I’m of the belief that if there is a creator so divine, he wouldn’t have the capacity to be so cruel to those he created.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Good, then take comfort you’ll either be blissfully in paradise or completely unaware you no longer exist.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I’m sorry that it is for me.”
Her face twisted to mask the sob she was holding. “I’m not sorry for you. I’m happy you aren’t afraid. You’re so smart.”
“As are you.”
“And still so polite,” she said as tears made their way down her cheeks.
“I have to believe there is a place for us because I want there to be for my daughter.”
Koti nodded, “I understand. I want that for her too.”
“And I want it for you,” I told her truthfully.
“Thank you.”
I moved around and gripped her shoulders. “Koti.”
“Yes, Ian?”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she sniffed, more tears budding in her eyes. “I’m not okay. That scared the shit out of me.”
“I know, so let me put my tea down and be responsible for you, just for tonight, okay?”
“Coffee,” she corrected as her voice cracked.
“Coffee,” I whispered.
Three weeks later…
I WHISPERED THROUGH A HALO of blonde hair. “Hey, beautiful, wake-up.”
“I should probably tell you those are fighting words.”
I chuckled and kissed her until she roused from sleep.
“Would you please let me recover? Surely there’s no skin on your penis after that last round.”
This time I couldn’t help my laughter as I gathered her to me and lifted her from the bed.
“Ian,” she sighed, kissing my neck and wrapping her legs around my waist. “I can appreciate how sexually starved you must have been after going without, trust me, I love sleeping with you.” I made my way down the porch steps and onto the sand. “Sex with you is my favorite hobby, but there are necessities that need priority as well. Wine, s’mores, and sleep.”
Setting her on the beach, I smiled down at her and turned her to face the ocean. “Shut your drivel, woman, and look.”
Her grin disappeared as her mouth parted. “Oh, my god!”
She sank into my frame as we stared at a moonlit sky. The islands below easily seen due to the sheer size of it. Thousands of stars littered the sky leaving us momentarily speechless.
“My God, now this is a good excuse to wake a girl up.”
“I thought you would appreciate it.”
“I used to be such a huge fan of the stars,” she sighed. “So much mystery. I believed all that hoopla about mythology until my science teacher told me they were balls of fire. It was kind of like finding out Santa wasn’t real.”
“Sucked the magic right out of it?”
“Exactly. Like why can’t we leave certain things a mystery?”
“Some would argue that those balls of fire in relation to where we stand are important.”
“I don’t want to know if some asteroid is coming for me.”
“You’re safe tonight.”
“I feel safe.” My stomach dropped as she settled further into me and I reveled in the feel of her warm skin.
She turned in my arms more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen in my thirty-eight years.
“This is wildly romantic, Kemp. Are you feeling okay?”
“Got a little moonstruck is all. I remember skies like this when we camped after a safari in South Africa.”
“I can’t imagine how amazing that was. Growing up there must have been incredible.”
“I’ll be a Saffa till I die. I can’t believe my parents moved us to Texas. I’m still pissed.”
We both laughed.
“That’s the way it is, right? You think you’ll end up one place and you end up on a different planet.”
With both hands, I pushed the hair away from her face. “I loved this planet.”
Even with the white noise of the waves, I was sure she could hear me swallow.
Her eyes watered as she looked at me for the truth. “This is an asteroid, isn’t it?”
She searched my eyes before she hung her head. “When do you leave?”
I choked on the answer. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
She turned in my arms again to face the sky, seconds later I felt one of her tears fall on my hand as the rest of me shattered with the weight of it.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m not angry.”
“I want to stay. If that makes any difference at all.”
“Of course it does.”
Minutes later, in an attempt for any conversation other than the suffocating silence, I leaned in to whisper, “I have a favor to ask.”
“Sure.”
“Can you look out for Disco?”
She sniffed. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Agonizing seconds later, she finally spoke.
“So,” she said as she took a deep breath. “I’m assuming you pulled this all together last minute to break it to me gently? Did a FaceTime with NASA to lasso the moon?”
I chuckled though I was already aching. We stood wordlessly a moment longer as she clutched my arms.
“I’ll be okay. I don’t want you to worry about me. I know Ella needs you.”
“I know you will.”
“You know I would live on your planet if I could.”
I gripped her tighter to me. “The invitation stands.”
“This sucks. Of all the beaches in the world, why did you have to have your breakdown on mine?”
“I’m not at all sorry we happened.”
She sniffed again. “Me either.”
“Koti, look at me.”
“I can’t. You can’t make promises and I swear to God, that’s all I want to hear from you right now so… just give me a minute.”
“Okay.” That minute was agony as we felt the reality come crashing in through the dream we’d existed in for months. An eternity later, I turned her to face me and kissed her tear-stained cheeks.
“You’re making breakfast due to the deliverance of shitty news.”
“Deal.”
I brushed the tears away from her eyes as she looked up at me.
“Please be honest. Would you stay here with me if you could?”
“Without a second thought.”
She sniffed again before I took her lips.
When we pulled away, she gave me a sad smile. “That’s good enough.”
“Koti—”
“There’s nothing to say. Not tonight.”
I nodded.
“Take me back to bed?”
“Let’s go.”