Page 138 of Phishing for Love
And that’s when he texted me.
We cried and hugged and kissed and cried some more. But I had an unwavering stipulation: If we were to get back together, he had to agree to therapy. I didn’t want to continually live on tenterhooks waiting for him to leave me again and breaking my heart each time.
Aaron didn’t fight me. Deep down, he knew he needed help.
And there’s no doubt therapy is helping him. Although he still worries, he seems calmer, more at peace. I’ve come to accept that worry will always be a part of him, but he’s learning to temper it. Whenever I go out, I still have to text him to let him know I’ve arrived safely. I always try to answer his calls, because if I don’t, he can spiral and suddenly I’m lying dead in a ditch and he’s planning my funeral.
I don’t resent having to allay his fears. It’s a small inconvenience to me for a huge easing of his anxiety. I believe there will always be a part of him holding his breath, waiting for tragedy to strike. Waiting for something to happen to the people he loves.
That’s where my family comes in. They surround him with so much love and joy the worry becomes distant and blurry in their company. Initially, Aaron tried to keep his distance, worried something would happen to one of them because they were creeping into his heart, but they assured him he was worth the risk. Besides, there’s no stopping my family when they’re determined to love someone.
Kate, especially, has been the biggest surprise. She’s rallied around Aaron, checking in with him and cheering him on. Maybe there’s a part of her hoping that if he can rebuild his life after tragedy, so can she. I know one day she’ll find love. Real love. Not the brutal imitation she endured.
Aaron and I have discussed having children, but we’re both aware of how huge a step that is. Aaron, in particular, is painfully conscious of how fragile children are, of everything that can go wrong. Therapy is helping him not to always anticipate the worst and to stop seeing death around the corner, but it’s still baby steps. And I’m right there with him, holding his hand with each step as we try to live out our lives not in fear but in love.
I’m grateful I had the opportunity to meet Aaron’s parents before they died. Although it was upsetting watching Aaronsmile into their blank faces and conduct a heartrending one-sided conversation, I was proud of him for still trying to reach them after all these years, still actively looking for hope even in the midst of tragedy.
After our visit, they went to bed as they usually did and never woke up. They died in each other’s arms. Their minds had given up a long time ago and their hearts finally caught up. It was the perfect way for them to leave this world and try to find their daughter and their peace in the next.
One night, as we were walking down Main Street holding hands, Aaron turned to me and said, his voice slightly choked, “Thank you for bringing beauty and color back into my life. I want to live the rest of my days in technicolor. With you. Forever.”
And that’s what we’re doing. Living each day in full technicolor. Savoring every precious moment: Waking up together in the mornings. Our first cup of coffee which we drink on the back porch while we watch the sun come up. Eating tacos in the park. Sunday family lunches which, according to Aaron, never get old, not when Grandma and Google are still battling it out. Our weekly hikes. Board game nights with Sofia, Matt, and Kenzie, and Lucas and Nina. Falling asleep with the feel of Aaron’s warm, strong body pressed against mine.
All the little moments.
All of them important.
Even the moment we’re currently in, with my back against the wall and Aaron’s hands on my hips, holding me in place.
He leans down and grazes his lips over mine. A whisper of a kiss. Teasing me as I teased him earlier.
Abruptly, I turn the tables in our little game by curling my fingers into his shirt and yanking him closer so he kisses me the way I want to be kissed, deeply and without restraint.
“Looks like you’re the one who’ll be dragging me to the Creative Room,” he murmurs when he lifts his lips off mine.
“I miss you wearing a tie,” I grumble. “How am I supposed to drag you anywhere without a tie?”
“You and Ash ruined my last tie,” Aaron points out.
I slant him a mischievous look. “And now I’m about to ruin your shirt.”
“All for the sake of art,” he says on a sigh.
“All for the sake of love,” I correct him.
Suddenly, our playful mood slips away and we’re staring at one another, the intensity of our emotions coiling around us.
“We came so close to losing one another,” I whisper with a shudder, my fingers tightening in his shirt.
He cradles my jaw in his palm. “I would have found my way back to you.”
I stare into the face of the man I’ve given my heart to. “Whatever happens in the future, no regrets.”
His knuckles feather their way across my cheekbone. “No regrets.”
We’ve both learned that you can’t have a life unless you’re prepared to fully live it, and to live it is to open yourself up to heartbreak. But you’re also opening yourself up to joy and happiness. And most of all, love.
