“He’s trying to hide a little, Paisley. Keep it down,” Shiv chides.
“Oh, please. Do you not see the paps outside, and everybody in here staring? The jig is up, pal. I think you need a better costume.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles, “I’ll consider it. I actually just need a haircut,” Slater smiles, taking off his cap and glasses and placing them on the table before running his hand over his head.
“I think it’s sexy,” I say, leaning over to where he’s sitting so only he can hear me. Then I lunge in taking a big bite out of his doughnut.
“Hey!” he protests. “You’re lucky I like you.” He wipes the corner of my mouth with his thumb before licking it, and pulls me onto his lap.
“Yeah, I am. The luckiest.”
“So, don’t make me wait. What did the label say?” he asks, and the four of us start to talk at the same time.
Thankfully, a few seconds later, the rest of the guys from Sicken Union walk in and everything gets repeated, so Slater doesn’t miss a thing, especially me stealing another bite of his doughnut. Life is good.
Epilogue
Slater
Two years later
Standing at the threshold of our master bathroom, I can’t take my eyes off my wife long enough to answer the flurry of texts coming in from our group chat about meeting down at Rusty’s for Sunday brunch. I’m too busy tracking her every move as she flitters about, trying her hardest to get ready and not make us late.
We’ll be late anyway, because—let’s face it—we are those people, the ones who are chronically late. Not because my wife takes too long—but because we are one of those couples, ones who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to get ready on time.
We’ve been married for a year now, and I’m thankful every day that she picked me.
I’ve only ever been really choked up twice in my adult life. The day I saw my wife at her weakest, and the day I saw her at her most beautiful—our wedding day—the day I made it official that I’d always fight for her…
“She’ll beat your ass if she catches you standing out here, man,” Lucky says, and I chuckle, knowing he’s one hundred percent right. She will. Alina might not have wanted a huge production for our wedding, but she was adamant we not see each other until we meet at the end of the aisle where we will officially become one.
“I know, I know,” I chuckle, “I can’t seem to stay away, though.” I shake my head, listening to my future giggling with her girls inside our bedroom, where the door is slightly ajar, as they gush about how beautiful she looks. Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I shift on my heels trying to peek, despite knowing Ali would have my balls for her bouquet if she caught me. Unfortunately, I can’t see anything because she’s surrounded by her tribe. And although seeing that isn’t as good as catching a glimpse of my future, the sight of Roxie, Pais, and Shiv all dressed up, coupled with all the laughing, appeases my impatience. A little. And I find relief knowing I won’t have to wait too much longer until I’ll be seeing Ali. And the next time I do, she’ll be mine.
“She’s come a long way, Slate,” Lucky says, looking thoughtful. “Thank you for loving my sister, for not giving up on her. She and I don’t have anyone but each other, haven’t for a long time, and…” he clasps my shoulder, as we both stand at the threshold of the bedroom where the girls still haven’t made us. “…I know it hasn’t always been easy. Ali’s the happiest now that I’ve ever seen her, and you did that. Welcome to our family, man. Take good care of my girl,” he says, shaking his head, closing the door and making me laugh.
“With my life. I promise, she’ll always come first. She’s the most resilient person I’ve ever met. I couldn’t have given up on her if I tried. She’s my other half,” I tell him. My chest swells thinking about how much I love her, and how truly incredible she is. I might have seen Alina Cassidy standing in the shadows before, but I’ve watched as she’s fought like hell to find her light, and that’s where I vow to help her stay. “And I’m the thankful one here, Luck. I’ll always do right by her, be there with her, and for her. No matter what.”
“I know you will,” he nods. “Now, get out of here before her guards hear us and come kick my ass for letting you try to spy on their girl.”
“You’re right. We guys need to stand together around that crew.” I turn, starting to walk away, and then stop. “Do me a favour, Lucky?”
“Sure.”
“Try to hurry them up for me. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”
“Can do,” he smiles, as I make my way out to our backyard.
“You ready for this, dude? It’s a forever thing, you know,” Rain the dipshit says, not ten minutes later, coming up beside me where I’m standing with my eyes glued to the sliding door, waiting for Ali.
“Sure am. That’s what’s so appealing.” I elbow him, nodding for him to go sit back down just as the voice of Jamie Lawson singing “Miracle of Love”—the song Ali choose to walk down our makeshift aisle to—starts to play, signalling it’s finally time.
Today, Alina Jayne Cassidy will become my wife in front of thirty of our closest friends, in a low-key ceremony in the backyard of the home we bought together here on the outskirts of Toronto. It’s a house with a huge yard, complete with not only a white picket fence, but also a treehouse. The only things missing? The kids I hope will come along at some point to make everything I never knew I wanted my reality. Love really does exist, and Alina reinforces just how much every single day.
As the song trails off and our guests stand, my eyes catch sight of her as the patio door slides open. My breath hitches in my throat and I almost fall to my knees as I take her in.
She is a vision.
Dressed in a simple white off-the-shoulder gown that hugs her curves—curves she’s learning to love as much as I do—I can’t take my eyes from her. I’ll never ever tire of taking every opportunity to tell this woman how beautiful she is, both inside and out. How I got to this place in my life is beyond me, but I’m grateful to whomever put her in my path.
Eyes landing on her face, I gasp when I see her smile, a smile that’s directed at me. Her makeup is subtle, highlighting her flawless skin, and I can’t wait to see what’s hiding under the lacy material of her dress later on. On cue, as if she knows my thoughts, she flushes before making a point of dropping her eyes, raking them over me from head to toe and back up to my face. The satisfied smile on her face makes my chest shake with laugher, knowing she likes what she sees. Her hair is swept up to the side, exposing her neck, my favourite place in the world. I can’t stop myself from mouthing, “Get up here, already!” There are a few whoops from the lunatics in the front rows who caught me. Ali nods, taking the final steps to meet me.
“Hi, baby,” I say, reaching for her and taking her hands in mine, because I can’t not touch her any longer.
“Hey, Slate,” she whispers, her ultramarine eyes unable to hide how she’s blatantly checking me out again. I’m dressed in a dark blue tux that she obviously likes. “So damn handsome.”
“And you. God, you’re breathtaking. So stunningly perfect. I’m such a lucky, lucky man.” I lean in and drop a swift kiss to the sweet spot on her neck. “I thought Lucky was going to give you away?” I ask, seeing Lucky slip into the seat beside Teresa, his fiancée.
“I changed my mind. No one’s giving me away. I’m coming to you freely, willingly, and so in love that it seemed wrong for someone to be bringing me up here,” she says shyly. “I didn’t like what I felt it would represent.” She pauses, shrugging like it’s no big deal, when it’s the exact opposite. I can’t hide a shit-eating grin at my girl’s logic.
“You never cease to amaze me. I can’t wait to marry the hell out of you, you know that?”
“I love you Slater. And I want you to know that always,” she says, then adds, “Beside you is where I belong.” Ali beams and the love I see reflected in her eyes obliterates me. And despite it not being that part of the ceremony
just yet, I pull her in tight to my chest, crashing my lips over hers.
“I love you so much, baby,” I whisper in her ear, and then walk us up to stand in front of the minister, who’s shaking his head and laughing along with our guests because they know exactly what my girl does to me…
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
My cellphone goes off with more texts from the members of both Sicken Union and Happenstance asking where we are, bringing me back to the present, and I decide it’s time I tell my wife she needs to hurry-up, or else we’re going to be really late. I’m craving a Belgian Kreme doughnut, even though I only ever end up with just half.
Alina
Standing in front of the bathroom vanity, one hand braced on the side of the counter, I swipe a hand towel over the fogged-up mirror, taking in the image of the woman I see staring back at me.
Her eyes are big, bright, and as blue as the sky on a clear day.
Her long, purplish hair is smooth and falls down just past her shoulders. She’s been wearing it in many new styles, even when in public: up, down, half-up, curly, straight, in a messy topknot.
Inching closer, I inspect her face, picking at a few target areas, then honing in on the new chubbiness to her cheeks, and smiling.
I am at peace with myself.
I see a face with a too-full bottom lip, a too-straight nose, two enormous blue eyes, the chubby cheeks and the makings of a double chin, and it makes me giggle. I’m happy knowing and seeing how my body is changing, preparing itself for motherhood. And for once in my life, I welcome all the changes, even look forward to them. I no longer see all the flaws. Instead, I see the beauty my husband makes sure to tell me he sees when he looks at me, every single day. Whispers of how exquisite, strong, and talented I am, words I’m starting to trust and believe more times than not.
I had been tired, chalking it up to all the late nights rehearsing and writing music. My periods have always been irregular, a side-effect of my bulimia, so the thought that I might be pregnant never crossed my mind. Not until Slater made a comment one night about how my tits were looking more luscious than ever, then quickly followed his newfound declaration with a thorough physical investigation, one involving his hands and mouth. The tiny gasp of pain I’d felt as his mouth wrapped around one nipple, then the other, suddenly confirmed what I hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up about…
“Slater?” I test whether he’s awake. My head rests on his naked chest as we lie in our bed, sated.
“Yeah, baby?” He trails his fingers along my naked back.
“My boobs ache.”
“Shit, that’s fuck hot. My cock’s aching just thinking about them. Give me another five,” he says. I lean up to give him some stink eye, but end up laughing, because he’s just so him.
“I’m serious,” I say.
“Me too. Can prove it, even,” he says, smirking cockily.
“I think I might be pregnant,” I say, then rest my head back on his chest, allowing the idea to settle between us.
“Ali?” Slater maneuvers us so we’re face to face, lying on our sides.
“Yeah?” I whisper, averting my eyes from his, a little nervous about the possibility yet worried about either outcome. I want kids; I do, desperately. But along with a pregnancy comes the fear of how I’ll handle the way my body will change and grow. How will I handle seeing the weight gain week to week, month to month? What happens if I slip? I’d never forgive myself. What if She comes back? These are the thoughts that plague my mind. Not whether I want a boy or a girl, or all the things a first-time mother should be thinking about. Instead, I’m worried I might not be strong enough to deserve this gift, a gift I so want to be ecstatic about.
“You need to get dressed,” Slater says, slipping out from under me, and my heart stills, worried that he might be upset. “Alina. I need you to get dressed, baby,” he says tenderly, repeating himself. My eyes shift to his, and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders when I see the shit-eating grin on his handsome face, his cinnamon eyes looking at me with so much love.
“What is it?” I manage to get out.
“We need to go to the drugstore,” he beams, kissing my head before rolling out of bed and reaching for his clothes.
“Slate, it’s two in the morning.” I nod to the clock on the nightstand.
“Don’t care. No way I can handle waiting until Monday for the doctor. We have to know, Ali. I can hear your thoughts. If you are, you’ll be an incredible mom. Trust that, sweetheart. I know you’re scared, but I know you. You probably already love our baby more than anything, and we’re not even sure he or she’s actually cooking in there yet.” He leans over and places a gentle kiss on my stomach. “Ready?”
“I think so,” I say hoarsely, barely managing to get the words out as I wipe away the few tears his words have caused.
Forty-five minutes later, with a column of six plus signs on six plastic sticks staring back at us from the bathroom counter, Slater and I find out we are definitely having a baby.
Now I’m not saying every day is a good day. I’ll always be a work in progress, and my guard is always up, waiting in case She tries to come back into my life. She has a few times over the last few years, but with Slater by my side, I’ve been able to shut Her down. My goal? To keep Her out. I still visit Kristie and attend a few groups, and I’ve even gone so far as becoming an open book about my illness with our fans and the media, sharing my journey and my road to recovery in hopes it might help someone else. I still have my lists tucked away inside that beautiful box Slater gave me, the same one I carry with me everywhere. On days when I feel I need a pick-me-up, I pull it out and use it to help ground me. To remind myself that I am enough.
Roar!
Ping!
Roar!
Ping!
I can hear both my and Slater’s phones going off.
Damn group chats.
“Somebody’s gonna get us in trouble again if she doesn’t shake a leg,” Slater says, coming up behind me and wrapping his strong, protective arms around my distended belly. I knew he was standing in the threshold watching me, but I knew if I acknowledged him, we’d never get out of here on time.
“I know, I know. I promise, I’m almost ready,” I lie, and he kisses the back of my neck, before turning me around and going onto his knees so he’s eye level with my stomach.
“Your mother is a beautiful fibber. Do you know that?” he asks, and then looks up when he sees my whole belly shaking from my laughter.
“Don’t tell him that!” I laugh, swatting his arm. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
“The luckiest.” he chuckles, kissing our son as he so often does, before he stands back up and pulls me in for a kiss.
“Don’t listen to your daddy, baby boy, even if he is the hottest man alive.”
“How long will you be, babe? Should I factor in a quickie?” he asks, looking down at his phone, grinning because I have been even more ravenous for him since becoming pregnant six months ago.
“No. Paisley will really kill us,” I pout, then say reluctantly, “Ten minutes, I just need ten more minutes,” as I reach for my foundation and blush. “And tell Paisley I said to calm down, we’re always late and she knows it. Besides, it’s Sunday. It’s not like Rusty doesn’t know we’re coming.”
“On it,” Slater says, leaning against the counter and tapping away furiously.
“Oh…and remind Fife to bring the lyrics to “Greenroom”. I want you to hear them.”
“Tell me I inspired that one?” Slater says giving me a knowing smile referring to the latest song I wrote with Fife, and although I won’t admit it outright, this song is definitely inspired by our sexy times. I’m still writing lyrics, something that’s become more therapeutic than ever. I know I’ll never stop. And not to toot my own horn or anything, but Fife’s and my collaboration called Fighting Weight, is generating Grammy-nomination buzz for both Song- and Record of the Year. Slater swears it’s becaus
e Fife and I write gold, but I tend to disagree, arguing instead it’s due to Sicken Union putting their unique spin on the title song, not to mention the seductive voice of a certain lead singer who’s responsible for making it hit double platinum.
Happenstance is still together; we’ve released two albums that have charted to number one on Billboard and on a bunch of other Top 40 lists. Our latest album, Beasts of Beauty, hit gold in both Canada and the US. It’s been surreal. We’ve done a few small tours around North America, and are considering a world tour in the not-too-distant future, but my first priority is to my little man, and so for now, the world will have to wait.
“Sounds like you could have, eh?” I say. “But lyricists never share their secrets to their inspirations, didn’t you know?” I tease in Slater’s direction, and his laugh hits me between the legs like always. Tossing my makeup aside, I shift over, positioning myself between his legs as best as I can with my belly in the way. I wrap my arms around his neck. “Okay, I’ll admit it. You sure did. That night was so hot. Inspiring, really…”
“Jesus, Alina,” he says, rising and placing a kiss on that sweet spot between my neck and collarbone.
“On second thought, maybe you’d better text everyone and tell them to start without us,” I laugh, while lifting my arms above my head so Slater can remove my sundress.
“This never gets old, Ali. Thank you for giving me everything you are.”
“Thank you for fighting alongside me. We’re doing it, everyday, together.”
“Always, baby. Now I need to feel you.”
He might not call me “Shadow” anymore, but Slater Jenkins will forever be my light in the dark, and for that I’m eternally grateful.
I am enough…
The End
More Information on Eating Disorders
The National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA)
www.nationaleatingdisorders.org
Fighting Weight Page 30