Chapter 25
Asia
I wake up sore, more tired than I was when I fell asleep, with an ache in the pit of my stomach and my chest. Talon's leaving for his tour today, and while I know it's selfish of me, I don't want him to go. It's not that I don't understand this is his career, or that I don't know what an amazing guitarist he is and how much work he's put in to the songs, or that I'm not incredibly proud of him. I just don't want to be away from him for so long, especially when things are finally going so well between us. I can't even think about not being able to hug him, kiss him, see his sexy smile, and fall asleep wrapped up in him for twenty days.
Twenty days.
Four hundred and eighty hours. Give or take.
His side of the bed is vacant, but a quick scan of our bedroom reveals him standing out on the balcony off the bedroom, wearing just shorts. I stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about how lucky I am to have this gorgeous, sensual, sweet, and funny man in my life. Then I grab my cell phone from my nightstand and take a picture of him, so later I can gawk at it and see his muscular, tatted-up back, the way his hair flows down his shoulders, and the beautiful fall mountain scenery he's staring off into. Although he looks peaceful standing there, I know inside he's not.
Last night when we had sex, there was an underlying desperation in the way he touched me and thrust into me, like he was scared to not be close enough, not be deep enough, not be there enough. While we usually have long lovemaking sessions at night, with some quickies during the day, last night we made love practically all night long. We'd doze off for a few minutes, and then he'd be kissing me again, rousing me awake to embark on more drowsy sex. I'm certainly not complaining, but I'm slowly learning to understand and accept that making love is how Talon communicates his feelings to me. At first, it scared me because I thought it was just fucking for him—a way to get off, try new positions, and just have fun. I thought he considered a wife his own personal, breathing sex toy. But then I started to see deeper into him, and I could feel his emotions coming through in the way he touched me, how he kissed me, in the passion I saw in his eyes, and the words he admitted when he was buried deep inside me. Having sex definitely strengthened our connection and cemented a deep bond between us. Dr. H was right; having physical intimacy was a big missing piece in the puzzle of our marriage.
Those three little words have never been said—by either of us—but I no longer wait for them, or expect them. I'm pretty sure I feel them, though. And that's good enough. Maybe better than good enough. While I want to say those words to him, I continue to bite my tongue because I don't want him to feel like he has to say them back. Hearing them that way would be way worse than not hearing them at all.
Throwing off the sheets, I get up and go to him, embracing him from behind and leaning my cheek against his spine. His hands cover mine over his chest.
"You're not making this any easier," he says softly.
"I'm sorry."
He turns and puts his arms around my waist. "I never got to show you the new tattoo I got yesterday."
"That's because as soon as you walked through the door, you dragged me into the bedroom, and we've been having wild sex and napping ever since."
"I had to make up for all the days I won't be here."
"I think you did," I tease.
"Look, jelly bean." My heart drops when he holds his hand up and pulls off his platinum wedding band, until my eyes focus on what now lies beneath it.
Asia
My name, in tiny black script, tattooed across his finger. His ring finger.
Squealing, I grab his hand and inspect it closer, rubbing it with my finger.
"It's real, babe. It's not Magic Marker. Not gonna rub off."
I'm speechless while I watch him slide his wedding band back on. "Wow. I'm…shocked," is all I can manage to say.
"Why?"
"It's just so…permanent. That's forever."
"I know. I have a lot, remember?" He flashes me his wicked cute smile, obviously very pleased with his new tiny ink.
"Yeah, but…it's on your ring finger. Like the wedding ring finger."
"That's the point, Aze."
My heart flutters. "But what if—"
He presses his finger over my lips. "Don't you dare say it. Not ever. And especially not today."
I grab his hand from my lips and link my fingers in his. "I'm surprised, that's all."
"Why? You're my wife. I want your name on me forever. And I wanted you to know that your name is there, branded on me, whether I have the ring on or not. Which I always do, but I'm just sayin'. I'll probably get your name bigger someplace else on me eventually, 'cuz the ring is covering this one."
I know it's only a tiny tattoo, but this is big. I mean, for a guy to tattoo a woman's name on his ring finger—that's a commitment. It's everything.
With a big smile, I throw my arms around him and smash my lips against his. "You're the best. I want your name on me too, now."
His full lips come back down on mine before he answers. "Okay, but not on your finger. Your hands are too tiny, and it will just look like a blob. When I get back, I'll take you to Lukas."
"I would love that. I've always wanted another one, actually. I just wanted something that meant something."
He licks his lips and runs his hands up my arms. "Actually…I've been wanting to ask you about the one you have."
No. Why would he ask about that now?
Pulling away from him, I move to the other side of the small balcony and gaze out at the bright red, orange, and yellow leaves of the surrounding trees. Every year I look forward to the colors of fall because I feel like I'm living in a painting. I don't think I could ever live anywhere else in the world because I would miss the leaves of New England too much.
"Aze?" His voice alone is full of questions. There is no way I can look into his eyes and risk seeing a change in them when I tell him what the tiny tattoo on my shoulder means.
Shaking my head, I can't believe he would bring up this subject today of all days, when I'm already upset and worried about him going away.
"Talon, I don't want to talk about it."
"I do."
I turn and lean against the balcony railing to finally face him. "Why? It's just a little symbol. It's nothing."
He narrows his dark eyes at me, his brow creasing. "Why don't you want to tell me? Lukas has the same symbol, and he told me what it means. I want you to tell me what it means for you."
I smile weakly, hoping I can sway him from this entire conversation. "Why do you want to talk about this now? You're leaving in a few hours. Let's just be happy."
He sighs and tilts his head, his wavy hair falling across half his face. "Because I care about you and I want to know. It's been on my mind for a while." His eyes hold mine, unrelenting. "I want you to let me in."
My shoulders drop with defeat. "If you talked to Lukas, then you already know what it represents. It's the symbol for Project Semicolon."
"I know. I want to know why you have it." Edging closer to me, he takes my hand in his. "Did something happen to you?"
So much. More than I will ever tell.
Taking a breath, I stare down at our bare feet. "A lot happened to me, Tal. I had a shitty family. You know this."
"Were you depressed?"
"Yes."
"Were you ever suicidal?"