Getting Real (Getting Some 3)

“Oh.” She nods slowly, her face slack. “Okay.”

Then she turns around, facing the wall. And a moment later, her shoulders quake, shuddering—as she sobs. She covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head.

“Is that what you thought?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She hiccups.

I think about what that must’ve been like for her. I imagine what I would feel if I thought she was slipping away. And it’s like an invisible hand is crushing my insides, turning them to dust, leaving me achingly hollow.

“For how long?”

“A while.” Violet’s eyes are red and her lips swollen when she turns toward me. “I thought you might be here to break up with me tonight.”

“Jesus Christ.”

I pull her into my arms.

She comes easily, clasping herself against me, letting the tears flow.

And I think this could be about more than me and Stacey. She’s been so strong for me, for my boys—pushing through, keeping everything together—bottling up all that emotion. Keeping it locked up tight inside.

Until now.

I stroke my hand down her wet hair, the words tearing out of me.

“I’m so sorry, Violet. I didn’t want to take you for granted, I didn’t want to put everything on you. The only reason I told you to come back here—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s not really anything you did. I just . . . I know how these things work sometimes. I’ve seen it with patients, with my parents. I know in real life, tragedies can bring—”

“You are my real life. I love you, Violet. I’m so in love with you, I can’t even see straight.”

I frame her face with my hands, looking into her eyes.

“You make me so happy, Vi. Happier than I’ve ever been—than I ever thought I could be. And all I want to do for the rest of our lives is make you as happy as you make me.”

She smiles through the tears. And it’s her real smile—the one that lights up her whole face and my entire world.

“I love you too, Connor. I’ve loved you for so long and that’s all I want to do, for the rest of our lives . . . is keep loving you.”

I pull her back against me, murmuring sweet, worshipful words. And we stay in the shower holding onto each other, rocking slowly, until the water runs cold.

* * *

Afterward, we lie quietly in her bed, naked and wrapped around each other, as close as two people can be. Her head rests on my chest, and I slide my fingers through her long damp hair, her bent knee resting on my stomach. It starts to rain outside, the pattering of the drops against the roof enshrouding us in their rhythm—making Violet’s room feel secret and warm.

“I want you to move in with me and the boys,” I tell her.

She nods without a moment of hesitation.

“Okay.”

“You can rent out your house or put it on the market, whatever you want.”

“I’ll sell it.”

“Are you sure?”

I cradle her head in my hands and I roll her under me. Violet spreads her legs, letting me settle between her thighs. I trace the bridge of her nose with my finger, teasing, “You could hold onto it . . . it could be our love shack.”

She laughs. And I will never not love that sound.

“I’m sure. It was always too small to be anything more than a starter home. And I’m ready to jump into this with you, with both feet.”

I swallow hard, shaken by how much I feel for her.

“God, I love you.”

Violet lifts her arms over her head, arching her back and lifting her hips, rubbing unabashedly and so fucking sweetly against me.

“Show me.”

And I do.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Connor

The first week of November, Aaron comes home from the hospital. He’ll be sleeping in the hospital bed we’ve set up for him in the living room, and he has lots of physical therapy ahead of him . . . but he’s expected to make a full recovery.

The following week, I go back to work. Violet went back earlier, but now that she’s living with us, we’re able to coordinate our schedules so one of us is always home with him—at least until he’s fully mobile again.

Knowing Vi’s with him when I’m not—that she’s calm and capable—lets me focus on my patients. It lets me be a doctor again. I don’t know if I could’ve done that without her.

Stacey gets into a solid routine of seeing the boys every weekend—no more canceling, no more dragging them around on errands—when she’s with them, she’s with them.

And it’s awesome to see on their faces, in the way they get excited about seeing their mom.

Sometimes Brayden and Spencer spend the weekend at her place, sometimes she hangs out here at the house because that’s easier for Aaron right now. Last Saturday we all watched Hereditary in the living room in the afternoon because the boys wanted to see if it was just as scary during the day as it was at night.