Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’m with West. He’s unsettled. Why are you awake?”
Seconds later, a picture of my little guy and Dash appeared on the screen. Dash’s bed head was epic. He wore a face mask, probably due to the cold he was developing, and our baby was cradled in his arms, drinking from a bottle. Dash had no idea I knew how much time he spent with West in the middle of the night. He muted the volume on the baby monitor so he wouldn’t bother me, but the screen showed the time he spent in West’s room.
“They gave me a halfway decent seat, but I couldn’t sleep. I was walking the plane and a flight attendant took pity on me. I’m in first class now. Did you know airplanes have an upstairs?”
The dots drummed again. I waited patiently, knowing he was using one hand to type.
“Yeah. I’ve seen that before.” The dots reappeared. “I miss you already.”
Yeah. I missed him too. He held me captivated even during the difficult times.
“I miss you too,” I replied and lifted the phone to take a photo of me stretched out on the recliner. Out of nowhere, the bottom of the seat popped out, bringing my legs up. No matter the cost, I planned to always fly first class and added that to the message, attaching the photo before pushing send.
“Jealous. Looks comfortable,” Dash said. I stared at the screen, lost to the picture of Dash and West together. He and I used the same surrogate, wanting the kids to be related by blood, but my genes had marked West. He looked like me. All of our children were taller than average. The girls had bubbly personalities. They experienced a range of emotions all the time, but West was a serious little man. His brows knitted together regularly as he watched everything.
“You still there?” Dash asked.
“I am. Are you ready for trial?” I asked. His pro bono case went to trial tomorrow. I hoped the clients knew how fortunate they were to have found him. Dash was tackling an immigration case that he’d spent countless hours preparing his arguments for. He also knew how to navigate the system, calling in favors to get assigned a judge who regularly sided with the immigration laws.
“I am. It’s probably not the time, but I’m sorry about what happened. I don’t like you leaving without having everything settled between us. You’re right, our health matters.”
I snapped another photo of me grinning like a Cheshire cat. I sent the photo as my reply and counted it a second win that kept me from saying I win.
“Is that grin because you love me beyond reason? Or the fact you won the argument?”
“Probably the second one,” I teased. “I’m ready to apologize too. I do tend to make decisions without involving you. I’d be pissed off if you did that to me. This is where you win because I do get how the kids need a treat now and then. But I want them to learn that healthy food tastes good too.” I sent the text that felt like the size of a book. Maybe the largest text I’d ever sent.
“Thank you. I agree. I should’ve approached you instead of going around your back, but talking to you can be like hitting a brick wall. People say I’m immovable but I’m a pushover compared to you.”
“We still need counseling, maybe me more than you, but you’re clinging to some resentments that I thought you were over. Maybe the same past keeps me twisted up too. IDK. We need to work it out. It’s gonna take time.”
“Deal. I really wish you’d had this epiphany six hours ago. Then I could’ve gotten a quick blow in the parking lot of the airport.”
My smile was immediate. He knew I wasn’t into PDAs. We exchanged quick pecks here and there, but it wasn’t often. We both feared how the parents of the girls’ friends perceived us.
“Maybe I needed the blowjob,” I countered.
“Yeah right. That’s never going to happen. The bedroom’s the only place we’re allowed to have sex. Remember when we used to do it everywhere. There wasn’t a restroom in Chicago that we didn’t have sex in.” Dash typed in two back-to-back text messages.
“Yeah, right. The swimming pool says something different.”
“Changing subject, because I’m turned on and you’re not here to deal with it. Do you ever look at the moon and wonder if I’m looking at it too?” he asked.
“Of course not. I’m always home with you when the moon’s up. I’m going to sleep. The pills the doc gave me are kicking in.” A giant yawn had me pausing before I finished the message. “Thanks for talking to me. It’s already hard enough to leave you without throwing in a disagreement.”
“I feel the same way. Go to sleep. I am too.”