In the Stillness

When I got to the other side of the well-wishers, Ryker wasn’t there.

“Ryker?” I called across the vacant space. “Ry?”

Tosha ran up behind me and grabbed my arm. “Jesus, Nat, what are you doing?”

“Ryker was just standing right here.” I held out my arms.

“No, he wasn’t.” She swallowed, trying to believe herself. “Besides, even if he was, what were you going to do, run up and hug him in front of your parents and Eric? Would you even talk to him? It’s been too long, Natalie, fucking let it go. This is our day, not his.”

My pulse was racing through my body and a cold sweat overtook my forehead.

In through your nose, out through your mouth. Don’t freak out. Not here. Not now.

I repeated my breathing mantra over and over for what felt like several minutes, but it was only a few seconds. One more cleansing breath later, we linked arms and turned to walk back to my parents.

Eric was standing right in front of us.

“Who’s Ryker?” he asked, looking at the grass.

“What?” I tried to sound light, as if he hadn’t really heard any or all of my conversation with Tosha.

“Who’s Ryker?” He cocked his head back toward my parents. “Your dad said he thought he heard you say his name and your mom acted like she was going to pass out. Who’s Ryker, Natalie?”

I looked at Tosha, who shrugged and bugged her eyes like, what the hell do you want me to say? I grabbed Eric’s hand and looked him in the eyes.

“Your hand is shaking like crazy.” He squeezed my hand to stop it.

“I’ll tell you about Ryker. Tonight. Just, please, don’t mention him in front of my parents, okay? It will make sense later, just . . . please.”

He smiled and kissed my hand. “Okay, I promise.”

It will never make sense.

*

“Have a good night.” The hostess waves to us as we walk into the mild April night.

Eric and I stroll drunkenly up the sidewalk toward our apartment. Thanks to the wine and all the crying, I’m feeling quite relaxed.

“Hey.” I pull him to a stop under a huge tree at the edge of the common.

“What?”

“Remember when you first kissed me here?” I pull him toward me and wrap my arms around his waist, looking up at him.

He bites his lip. “I do. God, I was so nervous.”

“Do it again.”

“What?” His right eyebrow crooks in.

The expensive Syrah is in control of my words. “Kiss me, Eric. Like the first time.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Eric leans down and presses his lips into mine. I release my arms from his waist and place them on his solid shoulders. I don’t know when he has time to work out, but I ignore that for the moment. It feels good to be kissed—to be wanted.

“Let’s go home,” I whisper onto his lips.

He gives me a playful smile and nearly drags me the rest of the five-minute walk.

We crash into our apartment and kick off our shoes at the door. I drag Eric by the collar and sit him on the couch, straddling him with my tongue in his mouth. He grabs my hips, forcing me down hard on his lap. I moan into his mouth, excited by his urgency. Of course he’s urgent—it’s been three weeks. Eric reaches for the hem of my dress, but my hand automatically slaps around his wrist.

“What?” he asks, startled.

“I want you in the bedroom,” I say while I slide off his lap.

With the lights off.

Where you can’t see what I’ve done to myself.





Chapter 6





Life has returned to shitty normal by Monday morning. Eric and I managed to have sex two times on Friday night/ Saturday morning before picking up the twins, who had just the most fabulous time, they’re such angels, according to Eric’s mom. Everything was great for the remainder of the weekend; the boys were happy to be home with both mommy and daddy and mommy and daddy were happy, too.

On Sunday night, however, I questioned Eric about his graduation, when he had to defend his thesis project, etc. That’s when shit hit the fan.

“Do you think that UMass will offer you a permanent position?”

That was, apparently, uncalled for.

“Jesus, Nat, you just can’t let it go, can you?”

“What, that I want to know where we’ll be in a few weeks if and when you graduate?”

“If?” he yelled. He never really yells at me, so that was a bit dramatic.

I sighed, but kept my tone soft, “You know what I mean, Eric. The boys need to start kindergarten in the fall and I’d like to know if we’re enrolling them here or somewhere else.”

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