No matter what happened between them, he’s proved he loves her just like he now loves me. So, he made mistakes. But at the end of the day, who’s bed does he crave to be in?
And as of now, he’s done no wrong.
“Noah,” I whisper, goading a reaction. “I think I’m ready.”
“Ready?” he mumbles, half asleep.
I will do anything in this moment to keep him. I know that much.
“Yes… I’m ready to try for another baby. If that’s what you want.”
His body shifts beside me, his lips pressing against my shoulder. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive. Do you know that?”
I pull his arm tighter around me, basking in how happy this man makes me. As my eyes begin to close from exhaustion, I pray to the universe that I will wake up in this exact position with Noah beside me.
I have everything invested in him and nothing, I mean nothing, will make me return back to my old life.
Everything I need is right here, in this bed.
“Morgan, I need this list of things done for the Halloween party.”
My sister is sitting behind what was my large glass table inside my office. With her glasses on, she reads a text on her phone before responding in a huff. She mumbles something about a dress and designer. There’s isn’t a single part of me that has the desire to pre-tell her future to her out loud, terrified that it will reverse everything that’s become mine.
Instead, I keep quiet and wait for her to calm down on her own.
“So, tell me. What’s been happening with you?”
“Uh… not much,” I drag out, diluting the raging happiness within me. “The function in Seattle was nice. Great to get away from the kids for two days.”
Her gaze shifts up to mine, meeting me with a curious stance. “So, you and Noah… you’re good now?”
It would be easy to answer, ‘Yes, we’re better than good,’ but by the look in her eyes, the expression of heartache, I know first-hand the pain of unrequited love. It claws inside your heart, leaving you raw and exposed. Her appetite has dwindled to nothing, explaining her weight loss. And wherever she looks or turns, the world around her is crumbling because she doesn’t have him.
“We’re working on it,” I answer deadpan. “Now, let’s talk about your itinerary for Mexico.”
She nods her head, agreeing before saying, “You look happy. It’s nice.”
It would have killed her to say those words because I’d said them many times before. I smile, acknowledging the sentiment before throwing myself back into the conversation about her upcoming trip in order to wrap up the day and head home to Noah.
With the looming Halloween party upon us, I wonder daily how this will all pan out. I no longer believe it’s a dream. Whatever this is, it’s greater than the universe. A stronger force. And perhaps I’m living in denial, uninterested in finding the truth because I don’t want to lose him.
It’s been one week since that night at the hotel, and everything’s changed about Noah and me—our marriage and our lives.
It wasn’t done through fighting, nor words, but pure and utter silence.
We laid there that night, in each other’s arms, our hearts beating in sync.
I never wanted that moment to end.
It defined me in ways I’d never expected.
It wasn’t just that I love him, but that I gave him all of me, parts of me that I had never exposed to anyone else.
And parts of me which I never knew existed.
Coming home, there’s a sense of peace in our household. Jessa’s tantrums seem to have eased with a weekend away with Noah’s aunt. Even Michael’s more receptive to us, engaging in more conversation and putting away the iPad if only for a short while.
The whole mother gig becomes manageable when I start understanding the importance of routine and scheduling. But all in all, with Noah and me in a better place, the rest seems to be less of a burden. It’s almost as if the kids fed off our tension and raised the bar to make it double the stress.