Page 95 of When the Time Is Right
It wasn’t anger.
It was pain.
It was fear.
It was heartache.
I knew all too well about those things, and even if I couldn’t fix a Goddamned thing, I couldn’t let him go through it alone.
He startled at seeing me, but he didn’t say a word, only opened the sheet beside him so I could climb in.
Like two puzzle pieces in the dark, we tangled our legs and arms around one another so tightly that I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began. It wasn’t about sex, although we were both naked and bared to each other. It was about a connection we hadn’t expected, a bond neither of us could deny. Even if the world tried to tear us apart a million times, they’d never succeed. Because the ties that bound Hudson and me together were stronger than old baggage and hundreds of miles apart.
We were soul mates, and nothing and no one could change that.
His grip on my body was nearly crushing as he clung to me.
And I clung to him as though I could make it stop hurting.
When I finally looked up at his tortured face, I whispered, “Do you feel that?” I ran my fingers through his hair and then anchored them to the nape of his neck, bringing his eyes a breath away from mine. If I could have climbed inside him and calmed his worried mind and bruised heart, I would have.
He pressed his forehead against mine and answered, “I feel it.”
“Nothing can change that, Hudson. Nothing will ever take this feeling away from us.”
“But, babe, I want you.”
“Shhh. I know, and I want you.”
“So what do I do? Tell me how to keep you?”
“I don’t know. But for right now, we just hang on, okay?” I pressed my mouth to his and squeezed my eyes shut, begging God to convince us both that this would somehow work out. “All we can do is hang on to this. Hold on to me, and I’ll hold on to you…until we can’t anymore. Try. That’s all we can do, because if I’ve learned anything over the past few weeks of becoming the woman you deserve, ignoring it and fighting it aren’t going to solve anything or make it go away, Hudson. We face it. One day at a time. And you fucking hold on to me.”
“I swear I’ll find a way—”
I silenced him with another kiss before he made a promise we both knew he couldn’t keep.
“Me telling you to go to Portland isn’t me pushing you away. Neither of us can predict the future, but you have to try for Jack. If I have to lose you to anyone in the world, I choose him. You hear me. I choose him.”
“What does that mean for us? For our future, babe? I can’t be that far. I can’t protect you or be there for you or love you the way I want from across the country.”
“Well, right now, there’s no good choice. Right now, all we have is this.” I tightened my embrace. “And I’m not willing to let go of it yet. Don’t you let go, either, big guy.”For over a week, holding on was exactly what Lex and I did.
We’d wake up in each other’s arms each morning. We’d bullshit over coffee and breakfast before I’d kiss her a dozen times in the driveway. We’d text most of the day, and when I’d get home from work, she’d be sitting on the couch, playing with Jesse, the aroma of whatever she’d cooked for dinner floating in the air.
At night, she’d curl into my arms on the couch and we’d watch TV after she’d emailed quotes to potential customers, and when she’d yawn, I’d carry her to bed. Sometimes I’d make love to her slow and sweet, as if we had all the time in the world. And other times, it was frantic and frenzied, where I memorized her every curve for fear she’d disappear like sand through my fingers.
But through it all, we held on to each other, pretending the world wasn’t imploding all around us.
Lauren and I had a long talk that promptly turned into a war.
She screamed. I shouted.
Ultimately, we became the parents we swore we never would.
She was giddy and excited for her new life in Portland and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t happy too.
Meanwhile, I was miserable and acting like a dick because I wanted to make damn sure she was miserable too.
Unlike her, I was doing what was best for my son, but I sure as shit wanted to make sure this kind of thing never happened again. I was not a puppet in her life that she got to yank around whenever she had a wild hair to move again. With the help of an attorney, I had a new custody agreement drawn up. I should have done it years earlier, but we’d never even followed the agreement we’d had. If she wanted extra time with Jack, she asked. If I wanted time with Jack, I asked.
