All true. What’s the point of working my ass off if I can’t ever be in my own house? Or spend quality time with my wife and my daughter? See my family more? Sleep? I watched my parents go through this, and it almost tore them apart.
They stepped back. Re-prioritized. Made major changes. It saved their marriage and their family. They’ve never been happier.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to risk my marriage or let us continue to be unhappy and lonely.
She moves her lips across my hand to kiss my gunmetal wedding band. Her eyes close for a few moments, then slowly open. “How do you feel about having another baby? Before I get too old?”
Smiling, I touch her chin and lift her face up to mine. “You’re not even twenty-nine yet, silly.”
“I know, but—”
I hush her with a long kiss. “I want a baby,” I whisper.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“I’m not giving you an ultimatum, Ash. I want to be with you no matter what. Even if things stay the way they are. Even if we don’t have another baby. I haven’t been happy lately, but I’ll learn to find new ways to be happy if our lives stay this way. So you can keep going full force with your career, if that’s what you truly want. I’ll never talk about being unhappy again. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader. Always. I love you enough to do that.”
She means every word. She’d give up the new life she’s dreaming of to let me throw myself into my career. She’d wait—right by my side—until I’m ready to take a step back. She wouldn’t resent me or hold it against me because she’s not like that. She’d absorb my happiness.
That’s what love is.
That’s how I know I’m making the right decision. Nothing is more important than our happiness and our future together.
“I know, baby. I love you so fuckin’ much for loving me like you do. Right now, I feel happier than I have in a real long time.” She smiles, and the worry visibly lifts from her eyes. “We grew up so fast, Em. Had crazy success so fast. I’ll be thirty soon, but I feel like I’ve been living for sixty years already. I don’t need more fame or money. I do need more of you, though.”
She smiles and tightens her hold on me. “You’re sure? You don’t have to decide today.”
“I think I decided a while ago, Em. I just didn’t know how to admit it.”
“Are we crazy for doing this? Walking away from success? Do we need our heads examined?”
I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “Probably. I don’t even care, babe. When have we ever done anything normal?”
Laughing, she leans up to kiss me. “I love you and our abnormal ways.”
I keep my arms around her, not letting her pull back from the kiss. “We’ll figure everything out, baby. I promise.” Capturing her lips with mine, I slide my hands under the fabric of her shirt to caress her lower back.
The sun has made her skin deliciously soft and warm. Her lips part, and she moans softly when I suck her lower lip between mine. I drag my fingertips up to her chest, skimming over the lace cup of her bra. Perfect nipples harden against my palms.
“We should get pregnant here,” I whisper against her lips.
She inhales a quick breath. “I’d love that, but I’m still on the pill.”
“Stop taking it.”
“I’ll flush them as soon as we get home.”
I move my lips across her cheek, pushing her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “We could still practice while we’re here…”
She giggles as I nip at her neck. “There was a guy hiking earlier. He might see us…”
As much as I want her right here, right now, I don’t want to risk another man seeing her undressed.
Brushing my lips across her ear, I breathe softly. “How ’bout we go home, get in the hot tub, make love under the stars, then eat our weight in ice cream?”
She snakes her arms around my neck and presses her mouth against my temple. “I can’t wait.”
Before we part, I cup her face in my hands, staring straight into her eyes. “I love you twice—now and forever.”
She smiles dreamily at our special quote and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“I love you twice.”
We jump off the rock together, but I’m not abandoning the idea of coming back here in a few weeks with a little tent to make love in.
“Whoa.” She shakes her head a little. “I feel kinda dizzy.”
“Are you alright?”
“I think so. It must be those kisses of yours.” She smiles and turns to walk back toward the path but falters for a moment, lifting her hand to rub her forehead.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, catching up to her.
She shakes her head, moving her hand to the back of her neck like she’s squeezing a sore muscle. She turns to the right, then the left, her movements erratic, almost robotic, her feet turned at an awkward angle. I start to laugh, thinking she’s acting goofy, until her legs suddenly buckle beneath her, and she stumbles dangerously close to the cliff.
“Em!” I rush forward and grab her arm just as the thin earth of the edge crumbles under her feet, completely giving out beneath her. She lets out a yelp, grasping at the dirt and grass with her free hand as she falls.
I’m brought to my knees by the dead weight of her hanging from my arm.
I gasp. “Holy shit.”
“Asher.” Her voice quivers with terror as she dangles over the river below us.
“I got you,” I say, breathless. “Hold on to my arm.”
Instead, she flails her free arm and legs, trying to find something to grab on to on the slippery mountainside.
“I—I can’t get a grip on anything,” she sobs. “I’m slipping.”
“Grab on to my arm with your other hand. I won’t let you fall.” Not breaking eye contact with her, I run my free hand over the ground around me, trying to find something—anything—to give me leverage, but there’s nothing but dirt and smooth rock.
My heart pounds so violently with fear-fueled adrenaline, my vision blurs. Shaking my head to fight it off, I refocus my eyes on hers and gather my wits. She only weighs about 130 pounds. I work out almost every day. I know I can lift her up if I can get leverage. There’s no way my wife is falling into that river.
“Ash…” Her green eyes stare up at me. Dark and pleading.
“It’s okay.” My voice, the very thing I’m known for, cracks and completely annihilates all attempts at strength and confidence. “I got you. Hang on to my arm. Squeeze it tight, and don’t let go.”
She grasps my arm tighter. Her long, pink fingernails dig into my flesh as I try desperately to pull her up. Instead, I’m inching closer to the edge. Like tiny razors, her nails rake deeper into my skin and slowly drag downward, slipping in the sweat coating my skin. Thin trails of blood begin to ooze in their wake.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t let me go.”
“Never.”
Scooting down on my stomach, I reach frantically with my other hand and try to grab on to any part of her—her hair, her shirt, anything—but I can’t reach.