“They only ask becausethey care.”
“I know that,” I noddedgently, “but most people don’t want the real answer. They want me to smile andnod, tell them I’m getting by, and that’s it. I mean, after Beth first died, Idoubt peoplereallywanted to hearthat I had to talk myself into getting out of bed every single day.” Squeezingmy eyes shut, I berated myself for bringing Beth up. It felt wrong, right afterhaving sex with Tess, and I shook my head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—”
Tess laid her hand overmy mouth. “You never apologized before for talking about her, and I don’t wantyou to start now.” My eyes looked to hers, searching and making sure of hersincerity. “You can always talk to me, okay? About anything.”
From the verybeginning, I’d felt comfortable talking to Tess about things I couldn’t evensay to my brother. I had found solace in our conversations, found inspirationin her advice, and now, after taking our relationship to this new level, Iassumed that would’ve changed. I assumed that I would’ve felt some rift in thebalance of our trust and confidence, but I found none. We hadn’t changed, we’donly grown, and I smiled gratefully beneath her palm and nodded.
Removing her hand, sheasked, “Seriously, though; are you okay?”
“Very.”
“Really?” She raised adisbelieving brow and I laughed, wrapping my arm tightly around her shoulders.
“Yes. Really. Gettinglaid for the first time in like four years will do that to a guy.”
“Four?”
I raked my fingersthrough my unkempt hair and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah … I did tell youthings hadn’t been great.”
“Oh …” She didn’t wantto askanymorequestions, but I could feel hercuriosity. Her jaw tensed under my fingertips as she stroked absentmindedly atthe hair on my chest. I wondered if I should say anything more, whether that wouldbe inappropriate. Was it really any of her business to know that the last timemy wife and I had made love was when Annabel was conceived?
“You shouldn’t do that,you know,” Tess whispered, nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder.
“Do what?”
“You can’t change theway thingswere, andthinking badly about her nowisn’t going to make you feel any better about moving on.”
I snorted. “Butpretending that things were different isn’t exactly healthy either. I spentyears feeling like … like I needed to only focus on the positive stuff, nowthat she’s gone, but I was lying to myself. To be honest, it doesn’t make melove her any less, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just rememberingeverything now and not just the handful of good memories I wrote some songsabout.”
I felt her wary smileagainst my chest. “God, you have this crazy way with words, you knowthat?You say this stuff and I just want to write it alldown.”
With a hearty chuckle,I shook my head. “Whatever you say.”
Then I asked, “Hey,speaking of writing, how’s your book coming along?”
Where she was oncecomfortable and relaxed, Tess was now coarse and rigid beneath my arm. Shelifted away and perched herself precariously at the edge of the bed, with herarms wrapped tightly around her middle as her flickering gaze searched thefloor for her shirt.
“Tess?”
“Sorry,” she mutteredweakly, scooping the t-shirt into her hand. “I was just thinking how the girlscould wake up at any minute, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know about…” Her eyes flitted between my naked form and hers before pulling the shirtover her head.
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Inodded, puling myself into a seated position.
“Um, anyway, my writing….” She resumed the topic with a shrug. “I don’t know. It felt right for awhile, but I’m losing steam, I think.”
My brow furrowed. “Whatdo you mean?”
She hesitated, unableto meet my eyes as she said, “I think I’ve lost my inspiration.” She chewed atthe corner of her upturned,pretty bottomlip and ranher hands up and down over her bare legs.
“Didyou lose it? Or did you just stop listening?”
“Have you written anysongs lately?” she retorted, allowing her mouth to curve into a teasing littlesmile.
“No,” I repliedhonestly.
“Did you loseyourinspiration? Or did you just stoplistening?” Her tone wastauntingand I fought againstthe pull to kiss her lips and shut her up. After she’d retreated from me, Icouldn’t be sure that this could be more than a one-time thing, even if Idesperately wanted it to be.
“Oh, I hear it. I justhaven’t been ready to write it down.”
