Page 13 of When You're Home for the Holidays
“I did,” he admitted sheepishly. “I left Virginia yesterday afternoon and have been driving all night. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my plans. I was just so afraid I wouldn’t make it…”
A flurry of questions bubbled up and tumbled out of her before she could stop herself. “Why would you do that? What if something had happened? What if you got overwhelmed or had a panic attack while driving?!” She careened her head back, desperate once again to see him, to feel him, to ensure he was okay. She could just barely make out his blue-gray irises in the dark, but they met her gaze and held steady, proving that her concerns were appreciated but unwarranted.
“I’m here now, V. I’m safe. I’m right here,” he assured her, his voice calm and grounding because he knew the real heart of the issue. He wasn’t the only one who had PTSD from the accident. Rhett’s self-destructive behavior when he was at his worst had unleashed an overprotectiveness in her.
“I was never in danger. I never felt overwhelmed. I’m here now, with you, and I’m safe. It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to worry you,” he confessed as he kissed her forehead once more. She let his words wash over her, but they did little to smooth the sharp edges of her concern.
“Quinn and Jake both knew my plans,” he continued. “I took a lot of breaks. I listened to some of our favorite playlists. I checked in with Will, and we talked for almost an hour. There were only a few times when I even thought about the accident, and each time I was able to reel it in and recenter myself. I would have stopped the car if I needed to, I swear.”
His explanation calmed her nerves. But she hated that she’d been kept out of the loop, even if it did prevent her from worrying all day. “So Jake knew?”
“He did, but I asked him not to say anything to you in case it didn’t work. I couldn’t stand the thought of not making it… of getting your hopes up, then disappointing you. I was determined to get to you, but if this year taught me anything, it’s that I can’t control everything.”
She brushed her hand up along his hairline, her fingertips tracing the barely-there scar that ran along one side of his face. “Ev, I can’t believe you did that… You just drove hundreds of miles in the car by yourself. I’m annoyed you didn’t tell me, but I’m so proud of you, too.” She nuzzled into the crook of his arm, wafting in the familiar scent of salty sandalwood and a hint of lime.
“I would do anything to be with you, V. Especially now. Especially after this year. Especially at Christmastime.”
“I love you,” she said as she tilted her head up for another kiss. Their mouths collided, this time each of them seeking the other in a fervor of passion. Rhett was here. He’d made it home for the holidays. He’d made it back to her.
Their bodies met in the middle of the mattress, joining in a familiar tangle of limbs. It was like every part of her yearned to feel every part of him. Their connection—what they shared—it was her own personal form of oxygen. She only ever felt fully present when she was in his arms.
She kissed along his jawline, down his neck, across the hard planes of his chest. He had already stripped down before getting into bed, which meant there was very little fabric between her and what she wanted right now. “I’ve never had sex with my husband on Christmas Eve,” she mused, working a hand between their bodies and running the tips of her fingers along the elastic of his boxers.
He pulled away before the kiss could build to anything more. “It’s four in the morning... You need sleep,” he muttered as he realigned his hold on her and kissed along the column of her neck. His lips on her throat felt so good, but she wanted to feel him everywhere.
She opened her mouth to protest, but was surprised by a yawn that slipped out instead. Rhett chuckled at her failed attempt to object. “But…” She tried to protest for real this time. She was more than willing to forgo sleep to spend an hour or two welcoming him home.
“Sleep, beautiful. I’m serious. Jake said you went on a long walk earlier and were gone for almost three hours. You didn’t even stir when I first came in the room and dropped my bag. I know you’re exhausted.”
“Tattletale,” she mumbled. Not only had Jake not filled her in on Rhett’s plans to drive home, but he’d also told on her like she was a child who didn’t know her own limits. He would be getting an earful tomorrow. “I wasn’t walking that whole time. I went down to the bench swing and sat by the lake for at least an hour.”
“So you’re telling me nothing hurts right now?” he asked as he gently massaged the tight psoas muscle along her hip. She said nothing at first, then let out an involuntary grunt when he pressed into the tender flesh. Damn him for being so observant and so concerned with her well-being.
Her hipsweretight and achy tonight, but it was a good ache. The kind that made her feel like she was getting stronger. The kind that reminded her she was alive.
She had been cleared to resume normal physical activity back in September, and she’d been working hard to rebuild her core strength over the last few months. She tried to do a mix of strength training and cardio each week, in addition to the physical therapy and pelvic floor exercises she did each day. Some days everything felt too easy. Then other days almost every part of her ached as her body adapted to its new normal.
She sighed, resigned to the fact that Rhett wouldn’t be swayed now that she admitted she was sore.
“Jake’s officially on the naughty list,” she huffed out in irritation.
“You can take that up with him tomorrow.Afteryou’ve slept. Who knew your rowdy, bisexual backup husband would turn into your not-so-rowdy, bisexual backup daddy this year?”
Tori snorted at his ludicrous but on-point joke. Her laugh was deep enough to reach her core, causing her to wince at the slight pull in her lower abdomen. Rhett’s arm tightened protectively around her when she jolted. Of course she couldn’t even grimace without him noticing. Their bodies had always been so attuned to each other; their connection so deeply aligned.
“I’m serious, V. Let’s sleep now. I promise I’ll make it so good for you tomorrow night.” He nipped at her earlobe as his words zinged right to the apex of her thighs.
“Promises, promises,” she chided as she squeezed her legs together to relieve a bit of the pressure.
“Roll to your back,” he instructed as he adjusted his arm under her neck. She had been a stomach sleeper her whole life, but that changed a few months ago. Sleeping on her back had become the only comfortable position after her hysterectomy. Even now, although she could technically sleep however she wanted, she didn’t dare lay on her stomach, and she still woke up feeling off balance if she accidentally fell asleep on her side.
She settled into the space between Rhett’s extended arm and his solid body, savoring the cocoon of warmth he created for her. A few seconds later, she felt him shift. She smiled as he worked his hand up under the old Archway Prep Lacrosse shirt she was wearing. He hooked the pad of his thumb into her belly button, and just like every night when he first grazed her stomach, she suppressed the urge to laugh. He pushed into her belly button with just the slightest edge of pressure: a reminder to be still and be present with him now. The ticklish sensation passed as she inhaled deeply, the lull of sleep feeling more and more inviting.
Rhett spread his palm wide, his splayed hand extending across her lower abdomen. His pinky and ring fingers rested along the still-bumpy ridge of her four-inch scar. There was as much possessiveness to his hold as there was tenderness. As soon as his hand was in place, she was whole.
Sometimes, if she lay still enough in the quiet of the night without Rhett beside her, she could feel phantom pains where her organs had been. It was the first tug of a menstrual cramp the day before her period, or that little blip of recognition once a month when she ovulated. Echoes of what used to be still physically binding her to who she once was. She didn’t feel the phantom pains when he held her, though.
She had never expected such a simple gesture to mean so much. But the weight of his embrace resting where one of her darkest fears used to live had become its own act of healing.
