Asher (Ashes & Embers 6)
Because despite the fact that I’m still desperately in love with my wife, I’ve felt it too. Everything she just said, simmering under the surface. The loneliness. The ache for her. The never-ending race. The stress of always having to be “on.”
She tilts her head up to face me. “I thought I was. For a long time, I loved it, but lately I feel like what I want has changed. I want to have another baby—”
My heart jumps with relief, and a big smile takes over my face. “A baby?” I repeat. A baby I can do.
We haven’t talked about having another baby in years. Every time we have, it’s been in that “someday, it’d be nice to have another baby” way. If someday is now, I’m totally on board with that.
“Yeah. A baby.” She smiles. “I also want more time with Kenzi. I want you, Valentine. All to myself for once. Not sharing you with the band and the fans.” She swallows hard and reaches out to stroke my cheek, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I don’t mean to sound selfish. But we’ve been together for fifteen years, and I feel like we’ve never had time alone together as a couple and a family. I don’t want to be the famous rock star duo anymore. Trying to coordinate two insane schedules, traveling all over. Living out of suitcases. Being pulled apart in so many directions. Always rushing our time together because we have to be someplace else.” She lets out a big sigh. “We rode an amazing wave, and I’m grateful for all of it. But now? I just want us to be us.”
Truth is, all I know is the life she’s describing. I was conceived backstage at a concert by a musician and a groupie who turned a one-nighter into forever. I was born and raised on a tour bus. I’ve been singing and playing guitar since I was five years old. I didn’t just follow in my father’s footsteps, I completely surpassed them.
But suddenly the option of being with the love of my life more, spending time with my daughter, and adding a baby to our family is wildly appealing to me.
I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. When I’m sleeping alone on the tour bus, missing my wife something fierce. When I’m so exhausted I don’t know what day it is or what part of the country I’m in. More and more lately, I’ve wanted home and everything that’s there.
I love creating music. I love the fans. I love the high of being on stage. But it’s nothing compared to how I feel when I wake up in my own bed with my wife all snuggled up in my arms, and I can hear my daughter in her room down the hall.
Ember’s right. The demands of our careers have been taking over, slowly stealing our time together away from us. Eating away at our foundation like termites. For years, I’ve been telling myself nothing could ever come between us. As if our love is an unbreakable force. We never fight, we’re one-hundred-percent committed to each other. I thought that would keep us in a bubble of perfection forever.
I thought the nights we spent apart missing each other like crazy couldn’t hurt us. That it was a normal part of the territory we had to deal with.
I was wrong.
Somewhere along the line, I got so caught up in the grind, I forgot I had a choice. That we had a choice.
I didn’t know she was also lying awake at night wanting more of us and less of the rat race.
“I had a nightmare a few weeks ago.” She lowers her voice like she’s telling me a secret. “I dreamt I lost you and Kenzi. I was all alone.” She licks her lips and looks up to meet my eyes. “It was weeks ago, but I haven’t been able to shake it. It felt so scary and real.”
“You won’t ever lose us. That was just a bad dream.” I hug her even tighter against my chest.
“I don’t even want to think about it. But it’s what really solidified everything in my mind. As crazy as that sounds.”
“It’s not crazy, babe.”
She lifts my hand to her lips and presses soft kisses on my knuckles. The sweet gesture melts me and makes me want to forget all this talking and just kiss her on this rock, surrounded by trees and memories.
“Moments like this, where it’s just me and you, this is what makes me happy. I miss it,” she murmurs.
I rub my thumb along her chin and watch her lips move across my hand. “I do too.”
So much.
Luckily, she knows me well enough to not be worried about my silence right now. She knows I’m a thinker.
I pull her closer and lean my head against hers. The scent of her coconut shampoo fills my lungs. I breathe it in, getting lost in the memory of showering together last night, then tumbling into bed afterward, warm and damp and smiling between kisses.