Page 84 of The Marriage Narrative
They fell into a tense silence until the water reached the middle of his chest.
She lightly gripped the back of his neck. “You better catch me.”
“What?”
She rolled off the lounger, splashing into the water while yelling, “I can’t swim! I can’t swim!”
Heart beating faster than the speed of light, he quickly hoisted her up out of the water. She swapped flailing for holding on for dear life—limbs locked around him like a scared koala clinging to a tree.
It was then that he realized how they looked.
“Zinnia.”
“Hmm?”
“We’re almost the same height. You can stand up.”
“I could slip and fall anddrown. You have to carry me.” She squeezed him tighter, diabolical giggles vibrating into his chest.
“Why did you do that?” He jostled her slightly to reposition his grip. One arm holding her waist and the other supporting underneath—her thighs clenched around him in response, and he swore his life flashed before his eyes. He was ready to die a happy man.
She rubbed his cheek with hers before pulling back to look at him. “You were making The Face. The one that makes me want to hug you.”
“What does it look like?”
“We both know you can’t be trusted with that information. You’ll just start making it all the time.”
He chuckled. “Probably. You should hug me more often.”
“Oh, thank Jesus.” She laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Is that all I have to do? Ask?” He swayed in the water, creating rhythmic ripples around them.
“Whenever you want.”
He kept his tone even. “Can I ask for other things too?”
“Whenever you want, whatever you want. I mean, I might not sayyes,” she teased. “But you should ask me anyway.”
What he wanted most felt like too much.
He bowed his head and lowered his voice to a whisper just in case. “Can we start sleeping together again?”
She suddenly averted her gaze, staring intently at the water. Fast, but not fast enough to hide the flash of joyful desperation in her eyes. “You’re only asking because the attack scared you.”
Whenever they spoke this close, she always touched his jaw, and this conversation was no exception. Her soft fingertips tickled upward along his cheeks until her still-warm palms cupped his face—his eyelids involuntarily fluttered. God, he missed her.
“It did,” he admitted, voice going hoarse. “But what scared me more was what happened after. You weren’t—”
She shook her head. The decision not to share with the cameras was clear in her eyes.
“Did my hovering make it worse?” he asked instead.
“No.” Her tender smile was a blessing made of sunlight. “Actually, thank you for being there. It helped me find my way back faster.”
He began walking toward the shallow end. “When that happens is there anything else I can do? I wanted to be there if you needed me, but I didn’t actually know what you needed.”
“Just give me time.”
