Page 42 of Beautifully Messy
He blinks, caught off guard by my directness, staying rooted in place.
“This is me now. I might not be the same woman you married, but I’m still here. Still your wife. Still a woman. I need you towantthis version of me.”
Mason closes the distance and lowers himself to his knees, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m such an asshole. You’re so beautiful, Syd. Please forgive me.”
I search his face for any sign that his words are more than just an empty script. For any hint of the fire I saw from James. He tucks his face into my neck as though he knows it will show the lie.
A lone bird perches on a nearby pine tree, its head tilting, listening to something in the wind. A calling that only it can hear. Its wings flutter, hesitating for a heartbeat, before lifting off and flying away.
No second-guessing. No turning back.
Thirteen
Thecabinwallsfeelsmaller with each passing hour.
I’m trapped with a newborn, unable to go out with COVID rampant. Anna is too young to be vaccinated. Outside, the sun bathes the mountain in gold, promising a freedom beyond my reach. Inside, I’m frozen.
Laughter and voices drift up as the house stirs around us. Sounds of the family returning from the festival.
“Hey, you.” Jules stands in the doorway of the sunroom, where Anna and I have been playing.
“How was it?”
“Cute as always, a little weird with masks. What’s up? You’ve got that deep-in-thought look again.” Jules sinks onto the carpet, tickling Anna’s belly.
I choose my words carefully. “Can I ask you something... personal?”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“After you had the boys... did things change between you and Tom? Physically, I mean?”
She studies me, her amber eyes softening in the pause.
“I know you don’t want to hear about your brother’s sex life, but… something has shifted between us.” I clench my shaking hands. “He barely touches me, and when he does, it’s after I’ve practically begged.”
“Tom and I had a readjustment period. Your body changes. Your priorities shift. You’re exhausted. It takes time to find your way back to each other. But the difference is…we talked about it. We showed up for each other. Even when it was hard.”
I swallow. And say it: “It’s more than the sex, Jules.”
“I know that, babe. Are you ready to finish the conversation we started last year?” She holds my eyes with a strength I wish I could find. “I’m here for you whenever you’re ready.”
But she’s not done, and the wicked glint in her eye says she’s about to go full Jules on me.
“Luckily, this isn’t the seventeenth century. You don’t need Mason for orgasms. That’s what vibrators are for.” She smirks and grabs my phone, switching off the soft nursery rhymes. “And you don’t need him to feel good in your body. You can claim that all on your own.”
A beat drops. Beyoncé’s sensual voice booms through the speakers.
Jules pulls me up, eyes glittering, “Come on, Syd. Channel your inner goddess. Walk out of here knowing you’re a bad bitch with a fine ass.”
“Fuck it.” I accept the dare, throw my arms in the air, and let my body move. Awkward at first, self-conscious.
Each sultry lyric pushes something loose inside me. I start to sway, letting the music lead. The rhythm builds, and I follow, hips rolling, shoulders rocking, something waking up inside me.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection, the way I move, the way I own the space. There’s allure in it. Grace. Power. For someone who’s spent so long feeling unseen, it’s revolutionary to truly see myself.
I don’t need anyone else to see it.
I see it. I feel it.
