Leave her be, Colton.

Good in theory, but not in my reality. I don’t know why I resist the pull when I know in the end it’s futile. It always is when it comes to Rylee.

I cross the room, pull my shirt over my head, and slide into bed behind her without saying a word. Careful of disturbing Ace, I put arm around her hip, and line our bodies up. And just breathe her in.

God, I’ve missed her.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear him wake up. I didn’t mean for you to have to get him.” I give her the lip service, soft words that won’t upset her, when I’m not sorry at all.

Silence greets me. I hold back the sigh I want to breathe out. Push down the disappointment she’s lost again. Accept that the power of her own mind is ten times more powerful than any love I can give her. Fight the fear I won’t be able to pull her back again.

So I begin the routine. My nightly process. My way of telling her I’m not giving up on her. I tell her about a memory I can’t wait to make with her.

“I thought of another one today. Memory two hundred thirteen that I can’t wait to put in our picture frame. We should rent a private island. Or a secluded beach somewhere. Sand, sun, and our family left all alone to do as we please. Silly, right?” My own voice rings in my ears but her body relaxes against mine and I know she’s listening. “It’s not though. Because the island rules are that you’re required to wear very skimpy bikinis. Or go topless. Topless is preferable. And yes, to make it fair, I’d have to wear that loincloth thingy so we have clothing equality on the island. Oh shit,” I murmur as I press a kiss into the back of her hair. “I’m still getting used to this baby thing. I forgot topless doesn’t bode well with a kid. So I guess topless would only be allowed when Ace is napping. I’m sure we could find a few ways to occupy our time during those hours anyway.”

I lose my train of thought. Get lost in the feel of her body against mine, and how much I miss physical intimacy between us. Because physical is my barometer. Makes me feel closer to her and at the same time tells me we’re okay. And without it, I hate not knowing if we’re okay.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling myself from my thoughts. “I was daydreaming about being on the beach with you.”

“Thank you.”

Her voice is so faint but I hear it immediately. I squeeze my eyes shut, overwhelmed from those two simple words.

Gathering her a little tighter, I rest my chin on the curve of her shoulder. I look down in front of her where Ace has fallen asleep, and I know I need to put him in his bassinet but I don’t. Not yet. This feels a little too normal when we’ve had anything but, so I want to make it last a little bit longer. Just the three of us.

There are so many things I want to say to her, so many reasons why she doesn’t need to thank me, but I don’t. I was given two glimpses of my wife tonight. That’s enough to tell me more is coming soon.

So I do what I think is best. I continue on. “Don’t thank me yet, Ryles. This island doesn’t have any indoor plumbing. Or Diet Coke. And I know how you love your Diet Coke. But they do have . . .” I continue on. My rambling evening entertainment.

Anything for my Ry.


Hi sweetheart. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. I love you. I’m here for you. I’ll be up later this week.