Vital Sign

I’ve never been much for gunky foundation, so a light dusting of powder it is. My complexion has always been pretty agreeable, so the powder is all I’ve ever needed. I swipe the brush upward across my cheekbones, highlighting them with the subtle pink powder as I go. Digging through my cosmetic bag, I find my lip gloss and my normal lip balm. Holding each of them in opposite hands, I glance between the two, weighing my choices. I opt to smear on the lip balm. The sea breeze has an annoying way of tossing stray strands of my hair across my face, where they tend to stick to my glossed lips like pasta flung against a wall. No thank you.

With one more scrutinizing check in the mirror, I go to the foot of the bed to sit and wait, knowing that I look my best. I could use a fresh coat of nail polish and maybe a pedicure, but I hadn’t expected to be spending time with Zander. I most certainly hadn’t anticipated wanting to spend time with him. Yet, here I am. Wanting—needing—more time with him. The fucked up firestorm of emotions going on inside of me is something that I have no desire to decipher and dissect. Sometimes ignorance is bliss and right now I want to ignore the fact that I don’t feel guilty for wanting Zander more than anything else.

A knock at my door gives me a start and I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

Right on time.

I peer through the peephole and see Zander waiting casually. I unlock the door and swing it open. He’s divine. I don’t think I can sum it up any better than that. He is everything sinfully good and forbidden packaged up neatly in a tall, lean frame.

He looks at me, taking his time as his eyes drag over me from head to toe. “Not so smart today, Sadie.”

“What?” My eyes widen a little showing my confusion.

Zander’s eyes glance to my free hand. “No mace.”

I lower my head looking to my empty hand. “I’m not scared of you,” I admit, inwardly wondering exactly what that means to me.

“Are you sure?” Zander’s voice has taken on a sultry, husky tone.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“Maybe you should be.” An unmistakable look of regret fills Zander’s eyes, making me curious where it has come from. Seeing that look on his handsome face makes me want to make it better. It makes me want to pull him to me, to wrap myself around him and vow on my life to guard him from all the bad that the world has to offer. I’d like to think that my instinct to protect Zander is rooted in my instinct to protect Jake, but even I can’t convince myself of that. That reflex to guard him is equal parts history and future.

Being a police officer came with its job hazards. Some were far worse than others. Some were the types that left my sweet husband restless and locked within the confines of his mind with the awful things that his line of work sometimes forced his eyes to see. I couldn’t help him un-see all the dreadfulness, but I did what I could.

I stood guard like only a woman knows how. I wasn’t brooding or territorial. I wasn’t pushy or incessant. No. I was tender and attentive. I watched and I waited. I held Jake to me when life leeched the spark from his eyes. I kissed his forehead when he needed a gentle touch to remind him that the world may have more bad than good, but I was his good. I’d always be his good. And when times came where no words nor actions were needed, I stood vigilant, my silent presence beside him a testament to what I vowed on our wedding day. It seemed to be all he needed. It seemed to soothe whatever worried him. It was all he wanted and keeping his head and heart safe was all I wanted. I kept that heart safe before, Zander’s heart, when it was Jake’s, and my reflexes haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve intensified.

“I’m not.” I shrug. My eyes drop and I find myself focusing on a tiny pebble on the walkway. I toss my own words around in my head.

Not scared of him.

I’m not. Not at all. I’m only scared of what I feel for him. I’m scared of having something worth losing…again. I’m scared of this urge deep inside of me that wants to stand vigil for Zander like I did for Jake. But beyond that—I’m so utterly at peace near him. Somehow the air seems thinner and it’s easier to draw breath into my lungs. My muscles relax, reminding me of just how tense I usually am. Most telling is the weight that I’m so used to carrying. That weight, that force that drove me into the water in the first place—with Zander, that burden is all but forgotten. I find my mind, my body, my grief, and my meager existence getting lost in him.

I can feel Zander step close to me, his index finger catching me just beneath my chin. I find myself leaning into him. It’s so natural and involuntary I could swear that I’ve leaned on him all my life. I could swear it’s just like leaning into Jake. Despite knowing better, I allow my eyes to close and I pretend for just one second—one moment—that in some capacity, I have them both. I guess I kind of do.

“Don’t think too much, Sadie. Just be.” Zander lifts his hand, running the pad of his thumb across the space between my eyebrows, smoothing away worry wrinkles the same way that he did last night.

“Can’t help it.”

“I know,” he whispers, close enough to me that I can feel his breath against my cheek with each syllable.





Chapter Ten


Just Being


Sadie


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