Page 71 of The Sculptor

I focus on backing out of the garage. “I don’t know. It’s not been something I ever thought about.”

If you had asked me that question last week, I would have given you a hard no. I never wanted more children because I couldn’t get over the child I hadn’t been able to save. But now, having Ray back in my life, I’m not so sure.

“What about you?” I ask, pulling onto the road. “Do you want more children?”

She frowns. “I’ve always wanted more, but I’m thirty-six now. I don’t know if having more children is in my cards. My eggs might not be as healthy as they used to be.”

“Women are having children later now,” I tell her. “There’s also cutting-edge fertility treatments available.”

She nods, but I can tell the subject has brought down the mood.

“We could always adopt, too.” I don’t know why I blurted it out. Maybe I just wanted to eliminate the sadness from her eyes. “If you wanted another child, we could make it happen one way or another.”

She offers me a tight grin. “What if we never find him? What if we never get over Jude?”

Just like all those years ago, I reach across the console and take her hand. “We’ll find him,” I promise, “and we’ll bring him home.”

We will finish what we started.

We have no choice.

Because if we don’t, neither of us will recover.

Five-and-a-half-hours later, I’m bursting at the seams.

“Ray.” I shake her shoulder harder than necessary. “We’re here.”

And she ruined the surprise by falling asleep midway through the trip.

But at least we didn’t have to stop for gas station meat.

“Leave me alone,” she groans, batting my hand away like I’m some annoying gnat and not her sweet-as-fuck husband who just listened to her cute snores for the last half hour.

“You’re killing me, Sunny Ray.” I groan, shaking my head, as I jump out of the car, jogging over to her side and opening the door. She doesn’t move, let alone open her eyes, when the cool breeze of the lake hits her.

I look at the water longingly as a ridiculous thought pops into my head.

She won’t like it.

But it will wake her up.

Better yet, it will get her naked, and that’s always my objective.

Reaching in, I shove one arm under her legs and the other behind her back. “Hold on to me, sweetheart,” I coo deceptively.

I almost feel bad when she trusts me to lift her out of the car, keeping her eyes closed.

But I don’t feel nearly as bad as when I run down the hill, and her eyes fly open, wide awake in a panic. “What are you doing?” She frantically kicks her legs when I make it to the dock, but we’ve been here before, and just like last time, I have her in a tight hold.

“Watch out for snakes, Ray. I hear they’re everywhere,” I warn teasingly, just as I jump into the frigid water.

“I hate you,” she yells, coming up for air with a vengeance. Her hair is stuck to the side of her face, and her lips are turning a lovely shade of blue.

“Come here, and I’ll keep you warm,” I offer, with a playful grin. It’s been years since I’ve jumped off this same dock with her in my arms. Last time, though, it was much warmer.

She splashes water in my face. “Why would you do that?” Her teeth are beginning to chatter as she treads water, looking longingly at the dock.

“Take my hand,” I offer, reaching out between us.

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