Page 23 of The Moment You Know

In the end, because she was getting agitated and he ran out of excuses, he relented and helped her get to the bathroom which was a painfully slow process. Ironically, though, that turned out to be the easy part because once in the bathroom he had to help her get positioned so she could actually pee, which basically meant getting her partially naked. After hiking up her gown so she could hold the voluminous material out of the way—and exposing every single inch of her still fantastic legs—he was treated to the sight of tiny, black lace panties that he had to pull down for her.

Jesus Christ on a stick.

Then he had to stay there while she peed, something he had never done in seven years of marriage.

Once she was done (and able to wipe herself, thank God), he got her to her feet and pulled up her panties, studiously keeping his eyes closed the entire time. He didn’t know if her complete lack of self-consciousness was due to her head injury, or if it was just a new part of her, but it was surreal for him.

When he was done, his heart was pounding.

After she finally got back into her bed and he was about to sit in his chair, she threw another curveball at him.

“Lay with me,” she pleaded, looking at him with pain-filled eyes.

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t, Paige. You’re injured.”

“I don’t care. I want you to hold me.”

As he capitulated to her demand, he told himself it couldn’t be worse than either the beard porn or the bathroom porn; however, that did almost nothing to keep his apprehension at bay as he carefully got onto the bed and stretched out behind her. The moment he was settled, she leaned back against him, obliterating the space he’d deliberately put between them, so that they were totally spooning.

To make things worse, she then reached for his hand and brought it around and up, sandwiching it between her tits like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.

He almost stopped breathing, he was that stunned.

This was worse than the beard and bathroom porn combined.

He lay there, trying to regulate his breathing so he didn’t sound like he’d just competed in a track meet and worked on calming his shit. As the minutes passed and he was somewhat successful, he found himself relaxing to the point where he was able to imagine that it was a normal thing, because it felt pretty damn good … and natural.

Too natural.

Despite the fact that this had never happened before. Despite the fact that the only tits his hand should be in contact with were Ashley’s.

Still, he found himself staying lost in the moment and it was crazy easy. It should’ve felt uncomfortable, but didn’t, which should’ve been worrisome, but wasn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking that he’d have killed for it to be like this while they were married—and if it had been, his life would probably be wildly different right now.

It saddened and pissed him off at the same time.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Her words were no longer as slurred and he heard them as plain as day. Floored, he took a deep breath. He’d heard those words from Ashley many times, but it wasn’t the same as hearing them from Paige. And it didn’t matter that they were coming from the past where Paige was temporarily trapped and not coming from a place of truth. They were still sweet because of the memories they invoked … of a time when they had been real.

When he didn’t respond right away, she twisted so that she could see his face and he immediately wished she hadn’t. Because of the way they were entwined, he was now essentially able to see down the front of her gaping hospital gown, which was a double-edged sword. On one side of the blade was the blessing that when she’d been dressed in the gown, her bra had stayed on, otherwise he’d be getting a real eyeful. But on the other side of the blade was the uncomfortable realization that the bra was lacy and black, which clearly matched her panties.

His ex-wife now wore expensive lingerie when she went on dates and that destroyed him, because she’d never done it for him.

“David?” she prompted, sounding unsure because of his silence.

He swallowed hard. “I love you, too.”

It was shocking how easy it was to say those words to her, even years after their divorce.

“Tell me we’re going to be okay,” she pleaded. “I’m scared.”

His chest felt so tight that it took him several moments to be able to lie to her. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Promise?”

This time the lie was easier. “I promise.”

She sighed as if reassured and before he knew what he was doing, he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

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