“Ganma!” Ben tried to mimic his dad. “Ginpa!”
Mason blinked away his sadness, kissing Ben’s head and standing back up. “Ready to go to the park, little man?”
“Pak! Pak!” Ben jumped up and down.
Mason wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him, his cheek brushing over the top of my head as we walked back to the car, Ben trotting not far in front of us.
Mason exhaled deeply.
“What?” I twined my fingers with his at my shoulder, feeling his emotions like they were my own.
“Some days it really hits me.” He squeezed my hand. “Our life. How fucking lucky I am. And how easily I could have had none of this.”
It was why we named Ben after my first husband. He was the very reason our son even existed. That Mason lived to be a father.
“Did you ever think when we saw each other at the game, when I came over that night—it would lead us here?”
“Strangely, yes.” I leaned my head into him. “Like I said, it was always you.”
“Wasn’t there some fantasy of yours you thought I was in?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “One where you couldn’t wait and fucked me up against the sink.”
“We’ve done that many times now.” He smirked. “Also against the washer, dryer, on my car, in my car, in the garden, on the table, in the hammock, over the hammock.”
“Don’t forget in a bar coat closet.”
“I’ll never forget that one.” He leaned in, kissing my nose. “Think we need to revisit our special closet.”
“Addison is coming over Friday to babysit.” I wiggled my brows.
“We can pop over to the pub, see if we still got it. Wear a slinky dress like you did that night?” His mouth moved down to my lips. “Shit, I’m hard now. Don’t really want a hard-on when you’re going to a kid’s park.”
I snorted, my head shaking.
“When is nap time again? Can it be now?”
“I wish.” My body was tight, ready to feel him sink into me, to have him arching my body in pleasure.
Barking caught the air, making Ben squeal and run faster for our SUV.
“Ozzy! Ozzy!” Ben chanted, the Bernese-lab wiggling around the backseat, waiting for his favorite people, which sadly was not me. Mason was Ozzy’s person, next Ben, then me.
I adopted Ozzy when I realized the home he was meant for was mine. Even more so when Mason moved in and I noticed he seemed to pick up on Mason’s moods. When his blood sugar got too low or something was off, he was in front of him, his paw padding his thigh before Mason had a clue anything was wrong. They became inseparable. He went with Mason on every run or even to the store. Where Mason was, Ozzy wanted to be, and when Ben came along, it was love at first sight for both of them.
Ozzy was what made me finally decide to go into service animals. From the moment the German Shepherd guarded the little girl with Down syndrome—Anita and I heard they still have never left each other’s sides—I felt this drive to find matches like that. I stayed at the shelter for a long time, moving to a paid position after leaving my dental assistant job. I quickly moved to another company, which handled service animals specifically. It was crazy, and I was flying around the country a lot, a matchmaker for people with special needs and their future best friends. Some days were tough, and it wasn’t all roses and happiness, but it was so fulfilling. It was even better than my dream as a teenager.
“Let’s go to the park.” Mason rubbed Ozzy’s head through the open window, picking up Ben. Ozzy licked Ben’s face until he was squealing with laughter. Mason egged it on with his own laugh.
I loved the sound of my men laughing. Their joy. I wanted to bottle it up and hold on to it when days got dark, because I knew someday they would. A day when his laughter was ripped from me, taking away my air. My heart.
The now was what I focused on.
“Hey, Mateo wants to know what to bring this Saturday?” Mason palmed his phone, stuffing it into his pocket and getting Ben into his car seat.
It was my thirty-seventh birthday this weekend. Mason was taking me out on a special date on Friday, while Addison and likely Mateo were coming to babysit Ben for the night. Then there was going to be a party on Saturday.
“Have him call Harper or Marcie. They both told me to stay out of it.” I held up my hands. “Threatened they’d have Kevin arrest me if I tried.” My sister and Kevin had a son, William, who was four now. Kevin, year after year, tried to get my sister to marry him, but she nixed the idea. After Joe, I think she no longer felt she needed to have that piece of paper and was perfectly fine with their life. They lived together, had a son together, and they were pretty much married, but Harper was happy forgoing the last part, and I totally supported her.
Addison was kind of following Harper, not in any hurry to get married. During a college break, Addison came back to stay with Mason and me, where she met up with some of her old friends. One of those was Mateo. They spent the whole night talking and were inseparable the rest of the vacation. All of us could see they were totally in love. They had been together almost five years now, and Mateo wanted to get married, but Addison wanted to wait until she was done with school. Following my path into dentistry, she was working on finishing her DMD. She was studying to be more specialized, which took longer. She was now working at Dr. Ramirez’s office with Marcie. She and Mateo shared a small apartment across town, near Marcie. Marcie and her vanilla cup, Tim. It was six months after they ended things, they ran into each other again. They both found they hadn’t moved on like they thought. They had been married five years now. Drove each other crazy, fighting passionately, but loved each other even more enthusiastically. Think their neighbors complained more than ours did.
“Kevin wouldn’t mind if I borrowed those handcuffs, would he?” Mason winked at me, getting both Ben and Ozzy settled before closing the door and strolling up to me. “I could keep you very occupied while they set up.”
“You’re going to have to.” I slipped my arms around his shoulders, tipping my forehead to his chin, feeling his mouth against my skin. This party gave me a sick sense of déjà vu, and I had already told Mason he wouldn’t be going anywhere. No running, no going to get ice or beer. It was silly, but the last time I had put on a party in my backyard, my husband never came home.
A moment without Mason sent me to a dark place, bringing back all the trauma.
Loss wasn’t linear. It flowed and ebbed. It snuck in on you, pulling you out like an undertow. Sometimes it was grief you hadn’t even experienced yet but could feel the dark cloud hovering, moving closer.
“Hey.” He brushed my hair back, his brows furrowing. “I’m right here. Be in the now with me.” He muttered our mantra. I said the same to him when I saw the shadows darken his face, his eyes off in the distance.
I could never ask him not to leave me. To always be by my side. That was a promise he couldn’t make; no one could really make.
“I can promise you right now.” He cupped my face, knowing what I was thinking.
I blinked up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He kissed me softly. “Now, let’s go to the park, wear out our child and dog, and then go home and fuck each other until our neighbors call the police again.”