The summer air is hot and humid here in Minnesota. He is so incredibly gorgeous—inside and out. He isn’t wearing a shirt, so all of his inked muscles are on display.
“Truce?” I hold one of the bottles out in front of him.
He glances up at me suspiciously. And not in the joking way.
“Yeah, I’ve been off.”
He sighs deeply and his shoulders relax. “You’re scaring me, scrapper.”
“I get that.” I open my beer. “Letting go of the past isn’t the cinch I thought it’d be. It’s like there’s this part of me that’s excited and ecstatic and floating above the earth on cloud nine—it’s the side that totally believes everything is going to be amazing. That part of me knows the kind of man you are and loves you as much as the air I breathe.”
“And now for that but.” Josh takes a pull from his beer.
I nod deliberately. This is more than a talk or an apology, this is my—and maybe our— now or never. “Isn’t it sad that anyone could be so mistreated that when a good thing finally comes along they’re so mistrusting they shove and push it away?”
I let my eyes wander into the night sky. The constellation of Leo shimmers above our heads with Venus bright and steady just below. I sit next to him on the porch step and deliberately let our legs touch. He doesn’t recoil, so that’s positive.
I think about how far we’ve come as individuals and as a couple. For starters, this is our house in Minnesota, just outside the city, on thirty acres. My name is on the lease. After Josh proposed to me, we decided to move from his apartment and find a family home that would be all our own. That was a huge step! A massive exercise in trust and faith, and it’s turned out amazingly.
I look over at Josh, so forlorn when he should be excited as hell, and I know it’s every bit my fault.
“You have done everything right, Josh,” I tell him. “And I do trust you with my whole heart—with me and Charlie.”
“Sometimes you do … other times you don’t.”
I begin to open my mouth to defend myself, but he waves his hand.
“White flag, scrapper! I’m here for the long haul—take all the time you need—I’ve been to the therapy sessions with you. I hate the son-of-a-bitch for everything he did to you … I have a love-hate relationship in my mind with your mother. She treated you appallingly, but she still gave me you, which makes me profoundly grateful.” Josh looks at my hand resting on my leg, then reaches over and weaves his fingers through mine. “I wish there was something I could do to make you feel so absolutely secure you’d be able to shed a layer of this God-awful fear.”
Warm tears escape my eyes. I tilt my head back as if I could force them back in, so he doesn’t have to see me like this.
I’m so lucky to have you.
“We’ve already come through so much, baby. We’ll get through this too,” he promises. “We’ll grow old together and watch our grandchildren play.”
I sigh in relief—he’s not giving up on me.
Yet, the unwanted voice inserts itself in my head. But don’t worry, you’ll fuck it up, I’m sure.
That unwanted voice sounds a lot like a disembodied Jim.
Chapter Four
Josh
“I know about pain. I know about forgiveness. And I know the time it can take to heal a wound you can’t see. I’m more than familiar with the terror that carves out a crevice so deep inside of you and traps you so that you can’t see the light of day clearly. But your day is dawning, scrapper, and we have our whole lives ahead of us to make it right.”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “Thank you.” I hear the tears in her voice. “I love you.”
“I love you back, scrapper—with everything I am.” I assure her and hope she takes it to heart.
***
“What the fuck!? No strippers, again?!” My youngest brother Will is not happy with the bachelor party agreement. “You know, usually bachelor parties are thrown as a surprise and the groom doesn’t even get a choice,” he snarls, running his fingers through his hair in front of the mirrored wall.
“Jesus Christ, Will! Are you so hard up you need a stripper?” my brother Jake taunts, zipping his pants.
“No, asshole … it’s just that bachelor parties and strippers are a time-honored tradition. And I’m more than disgusted at our lack of keeping tradition,” Will quips.
We’re standing in a Dior tuxedo shop in the heart of St. Paul being fitted. I look around me—my blood brothers Caleb, Jake, Sam and Will and honorary blood brother, Nate—and my other blood brothers Liam, Ryder, Talon, Connor, Reese and Chase—and I realize how fucking lucky I am to have the best families in the world. It’s not very often when these two families cross paths, but when they do, it’s like the stars have aligned and the planets have converged on some major astrological scale.
“Fuck the groom!” Ryder growls. “I’m with Will, and I say we have our own ‘bachelor’ party and leave these * pads behind for a big boy night out. Who’s with me?”