For Life

by L. E. Chamberlin

  “You sounded so sad. I couldn’t let you think it was really over. I was an asshole to say it was.”

  “I was an asshole to say everything I said.”

  “Shh…” His lips are tender on mine before they sweep over my eyelids. When he cradles me against his chest, I breathe in the familiar scent of him and sigh.

  “I hope I didn’t just give you my cold,” he murmurs against my hair.

  “I don’t care.” I burrow deeper into his arms. “I don’t care. I deserve your cold. I’m sorry, baby.”

  He wraps my hair around his fist and tugs it back. “Hey, none of that,” he says gently, nuzzling my face. It feels so good to touch him again that I press my body fully against his, loving the way he responds to my proximity. His lips cover mine again and he kisses me slowly until my legs are weak and my stomach is aflutter.

  He pulls back and gazes at me for a moment before letting go of my hair and smoothing it down my back. Clearing his throat, he says, “Hold that thought. I’m going to go peek in on the kids. I’ll be right back.”

  I’m still reeling when he slips out the door. I can’t believe he’s come all this way to make things better between us. But I realize something that never occurred to me before.

  Grady is atoning.

  Every time he he’s patient when I’m flying off the handle, every time he works to make things right when I’m still spinning in what should be, he’s trying to make up for the past he knows I still hold against him.

  And, God help me, I do hold it against him. I’ve tried a million times to just let it all go, and I’ve released some of it, but there is still a festering wound inside me with his name on it. Grady knows that, and he believes he can heal it.

  When he eases himself back through the door, the tension in his shoulders is gone. Having his family under one roof relaxes him so visibly that my eyes fill with tears. How did I never notice this? Have I had my head so far up my own ass that I failed to see that all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, is us together again?

  He strides to where I’m standing at the foot of the bed and wordlessly strips me of my t-shirt. I’m naked underneath, and his mouth hovers over my breast as his hands hook inside the waistband of my pajama pants. When my pants are around my ankles he sheds his own clothes hastily and I slide my hands over each newly exposed expanse of flesh, greedy for the feel of him under my fingers.

  We crawl into bed, and he nestles right between my thighs, pulling the duvet over our heads so we’re in our own private cave.

  “Don’t say you’re done ever again,” I plead, and he kisses my fingertips.

  “I won’t,” he vows. “I shouldn’t have said it at all.”

  “You scared me this weekend.”

  “You scare me all the time,” he admits, and there’s no blame in his voice, only honesty. “Just when I think—”

  But I grip him hard, already tired of talking, needing something more tangible than words. He gasps happily as I position him at my slick entrance, eager for connection, and he pushes inside me with a groan of stark relief. Everything melts away, as it always does, when we’re together like this. I cradle his shoulders with my arms, wrap my calves around his hips, and moan contentedly as he rocks into me slowly, one hand in my hair and the other bracing against the mattress. He kisses away my soft cries of pleasure, whispering against my mouth, “Don’t keep running away from me, baby. Let me back inside you.”

  In the dim light of our cave I look into his eyes and see that they’re glistening.

  “You are inside me.”

  “No.” He shakes his head and presses his lips to my chest. “Here,” he breathes against the skin over my heart. “Let me in here. Please, Cass.”

  He rolls his hips so fluidly with mine that it feels like we can’t possibly be two separate people. And when I feel the wetness against my skin, it takes me a minute to realize that Grady’s crying. His tears are washing me clean, absolving me of my sins, baptizing me in his love. When his mouth connects with mine again I kiss the salt from his lips and whisper that I love him, that I need him, that I can’t live without him ever again. He makes love to me for what seems like hours, sometimes tender, sometimes rough. I come and come again and he rocks me through it every time but never stops. Finally he lets go, and this time his release is my rebirth.

  Grady

  “Grady…”

  Her whisper stirs me in the darkness.

  “Grady, my love…”

  I reach for her and she slides against me, all silky hair and satin limbs. Lush, warm curves fill my hands as she whispers my name against my lips. Sweet, so sweet, twining around me, moving with me.

  I can’t be dreaming. I can feel her weight as she drapes herself over me. A curtain of her hair falls around my face, enveloping me with her scent. I don’t want to open my eyes and find an empty room. I can’t bear to feel her slip from my hands, so I squeeze, hard, but all I feel is her sweet, yielding flesh. She fits me inside her slick heat and her soft sighs echo in my ears as I bury myself deeper, losing myself in her.

  Before long she’s whimpering, shuddering, her body tensing with impending pleasure, and I can’t hold back. I don’t want this moment to ever stop. She cries out, and her moans of pleasure are music to my ears. I dare to open my eyes, and there’s my Cassie, exactly where I’ve always wanted her. In my arms, lost in ecstasy. I draw her face down to mine and kiss her through the last bit of her climax. She whimpers and sucks my tongue and it sends me over the edge. My release is instant and violent.

  “That was kind of noisy,” she frets a few minutes later, when we’re cuddled together under the duvet.

  “The best kind of noisy,” I tease her. “Baby, I hate to break it to you, but everyone in this house already knows we have sex. If anything they just know now not to bother us in the morning.”

  The soft melody of her giggle stirs me in some unreachable place. Something sweeter than pain makes my chest ache. And as if my body is telegraphing hers, she rests her chin on my shoulder and murmurs, “I love you far too much to ever be without you again. I know I’m saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot, but I know what just happened was about me being angry with myself. And I’m going to work on that, really hard, because I never—” her voice breaks and her lips quivers, just slightly. “I never want to see that look in your eyes ever again. I never want to hurt you like that again.”

  “I shouldn’t have walked out like that,” I insist, and then she lays it on me. How she came over and got worried when she saw the house all closed up. How she discovered the bottles in the recycle bin, panicked, and just grabbed the kids and left.

  “I hate that my mind went there so easily,” she says sadly. “I didn’t even give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “But how could you think anything other than what you thought?”

  She’s taken aback by my answer. “What?”

  “Cass, I can’t change the past. And what actually happened sounds crazy. If anyone told me that they passed out for two days from a cold while their recycle bin was overflowing with empties, I’m not sure I’d believe them, either. Especially not if they had a history of heavy drinking.”

  She’s quiet for a long, long, time, and then she says, “I think you’re wrong. I think I should have gone into to the house and faced it for myself. Even if you were passed out drunk on the floor in your own vomit, I should’ve faced it, not run away without even knowing. I run too much, Grady. I know I do.” She sighs. “I have a lot of work to do.”

  “Hey.” I tilt her face up to mine. “This is us, together. Not just you. We’re getting there. I think we can stop beating ourselves and each other up about shit we did when we were twenty-three years old. Yeah?”

  Cassie's eyes are trusting and happy when she whispers, “Yes, baby.” Her fingers glide up my body, threading through the hair on my chest. “Hungry yet?”

  “Not just yet.” I pin her to the mattress and spend a bit more time waking her up.

  CHAP
TER FORTY-THREE

  May

  Grady

  A month after we get back from Delaware, Cassie and I surprise the kids by driving them to school together, something we never do. Caden hops into the truck without a second thought, but Chloe eyes us suspiciously from the back seat. “What are you two up to?” she accuses.

  Cassie glances over at me, eyes twinkling, smoothing the hem of her dress over her knees.

  “What makes you think we’re up to anything?” I tease. “Can’t parents drive their kids to school together?”

  She narrows her eyes and scowls at us. “That’s not the routine.” Cassie and I exchange glances again but remain silent under our daughter’s watchful eye.

  A few minutes later, Caden yanks his ear buds out. “Hey, Dad, you know you were supposed to make a left back there, right?”

  “We’ll get you to school in a bit,” I reply, causing Chloe to shriek triumphantly.

  “I knew it! Totally up to something!”

  “You know nothing. Open the cooler back there, would you?” I gesture to the cooler on the floor between them which currently holds Cassie’s bouquet, a corsage for Chloe, and boutonnieres for Caden and me.

  “Oh my GOD!” she exclaims, oohing and aahing over the flowers.

  Next to her I hear Caden marvel, “How did they slip this past us?”

  “I thought Mommy had extra makeup on!” The kids dissolve into excited whispers as Cassie checks her lipstick one more time, and then we’re at the county clerk’s office, ready to make it official.

  Again.

  After we drop Chloe and Caden off at school we spend the rest of the day doing all the really boring paperwork that needs to be done. Changing life insurance beneficiaries, adding each other to accounts, and merging policies should be a chore, but we enjoy it as much as we did seventeen years ago when we had very little to merge together and so many years ahead of us.

  “Mrs. Mahoney,” I beckon late that afternoon from the garage. “Can you come here a minute?”

  “Mmmm?” she calls from the kitchen, where’s she’s been making a grocery list. “Yeah, sure… Just a second.”

  When she appears in the doorway to the garage, wearing the yoga pants she changed into when we got home, I give her a look that stops her in her tracks.

  “Grady…” she protests. “I have to get this list done.”

  “Nope. We’re officially married, and this garage is the one place in this house we still haven’t christened.”

  She shifts restlessly and tosses her hair as if she doesn’t care, but I can see the heat flaring in her eyes. “It’s been too cold,” she offers, but it’s a weak argument and she knows it.

  “It’s May now,” I remind her, striding towards her and tugging her out of the doorway. “It’s pretty warm.”

  “You’re bad,” she murmurs, and I nod in agreement as I capture her mouth with mine.

  “I’m gonna fuck you senseless on the hood of your car,” I tell her, kissing a trail to her ear. “Just so you know.”

  “The car’s… dirty…” she pants, but I grin and tweak her nipple.

  “I already put a towel down.”

  She groans, still trying to pretend she doesn’t want it as badly as I do. “You’re shameless.”

  “Yep.”

  “Possibly a sex fiend.”

  “No ‘possibly’ about it.” I make love to my wife until we’re both breathless and sweaty. When we move apart she accidentally knocks over a pile beach chairs with her foot, and we both laugh until our sides hurt before kissing and touching and starting all over again. The second time we have sex she whispers my name over and over like she used to in my dreams, and I’m shocked by the crushing feeling I get in my chest. She can still make me feel like a sixteen-year-old kid sometimes, eager for her heart, desperate for her touch, hopeful and terrified all at once. It’s the scar I still bear from eleven years apart, and thought it’s fading every day, I’m reminded of the wound from time to time.

  “I love you so much,” she murmurs against my mouth, and it’s an instant balm for that old pain.

  When the kids arrive home from school we take them out to our favorite Mexican restaurant and spend hours eating and drinking too much. Cass and I are so tired and full by the time we get home that we just collapse in bed, joking that it’s the beginning of the end of our passion. We fall asleep still laughing like a couple of teenagers, spooning together, her back to my front, my face in her hair.

  It’s perfect.

  * * * *

  We put my house up for sale and it sells surprisingly quickly, which means we have a bit of money left over for the family vacation we’ve been planning when the kids are on summer break. Ares and Mr. Tibbles make uneasy peace, and Cassie learns to cope with having a four-legged security officer in her home.

  Renée starts having a rough time as the shock of losing Carl finally settles in. Cassie’s good about calling to check on her every night, but we both worry that Renée pushed things too hard by trying to go back to work.

  Coach Woodson is sentenced to six years in prison, which no one thinks is enough for what he did. Ryan and Caden are hanging out together again, and every time I see Ryan I’m angry all over again on his behalf, but he seems to be doing okay.

  Chloe gets acceptance letters to music programs at four great colleges, including her top choice, and we celebrate every time. Going away will be good for her, I think. She and Cass are both trying hard, and every day they get a little better at dealing with each other.

  May

  Cassie

  “It’s just that our new life is so hectic on the surface but so calm within that it scares me sometimes,” I confess, and Grady squeezes my hand. “It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  We see Dr. Gaul twice a month as a couple, although I still see her twice a month on my own. She tells us both she’s proud of us for overcoming the odds against us and working so diligently to reunite responsibly. I’ve started to let go - really let go - of the past, not only with our first marriage but with my parents. I know it’s my anger toward them that has held me hostage for so long, and I’m determined not to let it poison our sweet life.

  Now Dr. Gaul nods and smiles before assuring me that life isn’t done testing me. She encourages me to store up the happy moments for when things are too overwhelming to bear. “Don’t waste your time waiting for bad things to happen,” she advises. “Live your life knowing they will and believing you’ll march right on through to the other side.”

  I gesture to Grady. “Now you sound like him. That’s his philosophy. But I’m a worrier. I worry. That’s what I do.”

  “Remember what I’ve said about worrying?” Dr. Gaul reminds me gently.

  “I know. It’s like a rocking chair. It gives me something to do but doesn’t get me anywhere. You’re absolutely right.” I sigh. “And it’s not like I don’t have enough to do.”

  “These are old habits,” she reassures me. “They take a while to die. In the meantime, your homework is to take a honeymoon.”

  “We don’t have any time for that,” I protest. “We’re taking vacation with the kids when they get done school.”

  “You didn’t have a honeymoon last time, either, remember? No one’s saying you have to fly to Tahiti, but take a night. Nurture your union.”

  Eying Grady suspiciously, I venture, “Let me guess, he put you up to this?”

  Dr. Gaul chuckles and Grady squeezes my hand before planting a gentle kiss on the back of it.

  “We should, you’re right,” I concede.

  “I’ll look forward to hearing about where you decided to go when I see you two next, then.” She smiles and opens her battered appointment book. Grady grins at me and I decide then and there that Dr. Gaul is right. I need my husband all to myself, even if it’s just for twenty-four hours.

  Twenty years ago, I met a boy at a football game who changed my life forever. He likes to say it was love at first sight, that
he knew the first time we kissed that he wanted to marry me. For me, love didn’t come until I thought I’d lost him for those two weeks back in high school.

  And that’s just so like Grady and me, isn’t it? He always knew what he wanted, while I had to fumble my way through. He’s a man of action, while I’m a person of too much thought.

  But in the end, we got it right.

  EPILOGUE

  June, Present Day

  Cassie

  “Let’s hustle!” Grady calls up the stairs. Thank God we had the good sense to pack the truck this morning or we’d never get these kids out the door. Although I think his demand to “hustle” at eleven-thirty p.m. is ambitious, the kids have exactly one job: to roll their asses out of bed and get in the car, where they can immediately fall back to sleep while we drive. Both of them said they’d still be awake when we left, and both of them were out cold by 10 p.m.

  Caden, surprisingly, is first down the stairs, pillow under his arm and his hair sticking up in tufts. He yanks a hoodie over his head and pauses in the hall, seized by a great yawn. Grady pats him affectionately on the back of his neck and sends him trudging out to the car.

  Chloe appears at the bottom of the stairs next, her eyes in slits, her hot pink “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” blanket wrapped around her and her pillow clutched tightly.

  “She’s up and at ‘em,” teases Grady, and she swats at him half-heartedly.

  “Dadd-yyyy… It’s too late,” she complains, her voice scratchy from sleep as she tugs the blanket up over her head like a hood and shuffles in her fur-lined boots after her brother.

  “That’s it, then, Mr. Mahoney. Everyone present and accounted for. You sure you’re okay to drive?” I rub his back and he tugs me close for a quick kiss.

  “As long as that travel mug is full of coffee, woman, then yes.”

  I hand it to him and step out the door. He sets the alarm, checks the door behind him, and then whistles for Ares, who’s been patrolling the driveway during the excitement. Together they double-check the hitch on the pop-up camper before hopping into the truck with the rest of us.