Page 65 of When the Sun Rises
My smile was soft, and maybe a little sad, as I pulled him into me. The hand on his face moved to the back of his head while the other wrapped around his waist. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck as his strong arms wrapped around me and his face found a similar place against my neck. We stood there for god knew how long, simply breathing each other in and letting the uncertainty that hung over our heads dissipate into the chilly spring night air.
When I finally pulled away, Tucker brushed a thumb along the fresh wetness under my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying, but I let out a watery chuckle, the relief of having him back in my arms overwhelming.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, seeming to drink me in as he did.
“Of course.”
“Why do you always call me Tucker?”
It took me a second to process what he’d asked, and my eyebrows pulled together. “It’s your name?” I said, more like a question than a response.
“No, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “But most everyone calls me Tuck, and you never have. I just wasn’t sure why.”
I pulled back a little, confusion marring my features as I looked at him. “You told me not to.”
Tucker’s eyes blew wide, his face taking on a look of bewilderment as he shook his head more fervently. “I never said that.”
“Yes, you did,” I countered. “My first day. Granger called you Tuck, and when I joked if I could call you that too, you told me we weren’t friends and stormed out. I took that to mean I shouldn’t call you anything other than Tucker.”
He looked me over, recognition flaring in his eyes after a moment, and then he lifted a hand to run it over his mouth. “The cologne. I’d been so upset at smelling Raleigh’s old cologne on you, and when you bumped me with your shoulder, I lost it.”
Everything in me ached for him. There was a flare of guilt for hurting him the way I had unintentionally, but also of hope thatmaybe this would help him realize just how much the loss of Raleigh was affecting his life.
“Do you want me to call you something other than Tucker?” I asked gently.
His mouth opened like he was going to say something before he shut it again. “Whatever you want to call me is fine by me.”
The corner of my lips quirked up into a smirk. “Even if I wanted to call you asshole?”
Tucker let out a huff of amusement. “I would hope it’d be something a little more endearing, but maybe that’s what I deserve.”
I let out a quick breath through my nose before cupping the side of his neck and asking again, “What do you want me to call you?”
He pulled his lips between his teeth, something vulnerable flashing in his amber-colored eyes before he spoke again, the single word no louder than a whisper.
“Baby.”
A rumble of approval came from deep in my chest at that, the pet name settling something that hadn’t felt quite right until this moment. “Yeah, I like knowing you’re my baby, too.”
Tucker leaned in then, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that felt like a promise for something more. Things weren’t completely fixed, and there were a ton more hurdles we’d need to climb going forward, but at least now I had the confidence we could weather whatever was thrown our way. The path wasn’t going to be straight forward, and I knew there would be more lows on the horizon, but as long as we kept looking forward, and committed to supporting each other, I had no doubt we were going to make it through.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TUCKER
“It’s good to see you again, Tucker.” Melissa gave me a characteristically soft smile as she motioned me into her office. The woman was just a smidgen of a thing with a thin frame and a slow cadence to her voice that screamed mental health professional. “How have you been?”
I settled myself into one of the armchairs across from the one she’d used during our previous session, taking my hat off and placing it in my lap. “I’ve been doing okay. How ’bout yourself?”
She sent me another gentle smile as she sat down. “I’ve been well, thank you for asking.”
There was a brief pause as Melissa pulled out her notepad and pen, probably one she expected me to fill with what we’d be discussing today, but I still wasn’t sure what to expect from these appointments. It’d been three weeks since the dream of Raleigh that had caused me to spiral. Even now, the visuals from it were still so clear in my head, it was hard for me to reconcile what happened, but the aftershocks of it had resulted in very real consequences in my life.
While Jackson had reassured me after we’d talked that he hadn’t been considering leaving, the fear of it had been palpable when I’dseen him so angry. The thought of potentially losing him after everything else had been the real motivator for me finding a therapist sooner rather than later. The idea had been floated around long before he’d ever arrived, but I’d been too damn stubborn—or maybe scared—to follow through.
I’d needed the push Jackson gave me to force me into taking that first step, which was how I found Melissa. She was a licensed professional counselor with a specialty in grief counseling and LGBTQIA+ support, which meant if I chose to, I could continue to see her after working through the grief of losing Raleigh. Today was our second session.
“The last time we spoke, we talked about how you were struggling with moving forward after the death of your late husband. How are you feeling about that today?” she asked as she looked back up at me.
