Always With Me
Kenna
I wake up to an empty space beside me. Jake never came back to bed last night. We always sleep together, even through his nightmares or when we are fighting. After all the time spent apart with the deployments, we treasure the little things more, like being wrapped up in one another. What is going on with him that he didn’t want to sleep beside me? I can only hope he’s not battling the nightmares and PTSD, like in the past.
Showering and dressing for my day, I try to contain my growing irritation. I descend our stairs and when I reach the bottom, I stop and stare. Jake is asleep, sitting up on the couch with an empty beer bottle still in his hand. This gorgeous man is snoozing away in his boxer briefs.
Jake is built lean like a swimmer with dusty brown hair and deep green eyes. When standing, he is five-ten, has a trim build with broad shoulders, and isn’t overly muscular, but he is toned everywhere, especially in the definition of his chest and abs. For me, he is a perfect fit and the sexiest man I have ever seen.
As I take in the steady up and down rhythm of his chest, I’m drawn to the angel tattoo over his heart. She is moving with him with his every breath, pushing the words around her, causing them to practically scream out to me. I get teary-eyed remembering that specific ink experience.
It was right before his first deployment to Iraq. He has always said I am his angel, saving him from himself since the day we met. The angel on his chest was designed to resemble me in her facial features, and the script says: “Watch over me, carry me, bring me always safely through to my love’s waiting arms.”
It’s the perfect tattoo to go with our feelings for each other. Jake and I are still head over heels in love. The honeymoon phase has never ended for us. Despite all the years together, I continue to get butterflies when I see him. I am Jake’s love, as he is mine. I wait for the next opportunity to hold him close and always carry him in my heart, exactly as he does for me.
This whole wedding thing shouldn’t bother me so much, yet it does. I see Dina with Ryder, knowing their time is coming soon, that level of commitment so evident in the way they look at each other.
Seeing our friends so happy and in love is wonderful. I truly am overjoyed for them. What should I do about it now, though?
Mentally, I have to shape up. Jake doesn’t need me as a distraction with all that is on his plate at the garage. Dwelling isn’t going to help either of us.
***
Jake
When I wake up, Kenna is gone for the day. She works at an accounting office full time and helps Dina and Maggie with their events when needed. It’s strange; she always wakes me to say goodbye, no matter what.
Concerned and confused, I send her a text.
Sorry I fell asleep on the couch. Have a good day, angel. I luv u.
Then I jump in the shower as I wait for a response, the water cascading over me as I get lost in my own thoughts.
With the way I acted last night, Kenna probably realizes that something is going on in my head. We never spend nights apart unless we physically aren’t in the same house. When you are forced to spend so much time apart, you treasure the times you have together. It’s just the whole wedding stuff has me on edge. I have certainly backed myself into a corner this time.
After my shower, I check my phone to see Kenna’s text.
Ok. C u 2night.
That is not her usual reply. Shit, she definitely knows something is awry. If there’s one thing Kenna doesn’t tolerate, it’s me shutting down communication. She believes wholeheartedly in honesty in its most raw, forward form.
When we first got together, I wasn’t willing to divulge anything about my family, my past, or my situation. My refusal to open up pushed her to almost break up with me on more than one occasion.
Once, in our early days, she told me in all her sassiness, “Jacob James Thompson, I can put up with any shit you choose to dish out as long as I am not left in the dark about what’s going on. If you want to be a jerk because you won’t trust me with your secrets and feelings, you take that mess somewhere else. That, I will not tolerate. So, either tell me what your problem is, or I am done with us.” Hands on her hips, brow creased in frustration, she was sexy as hell.
She has always been accepting and understanding of me—the good, the bad, and the difficult—and I have never experienced the kind of unconditional love she has for me.
She is the only person, other than Ryder and his grandma, who knows about my family. Others have asked about my mom over the years, and my answer has always been, “She’s not around.”
As I am drying off, I look down at the angel inked on my chest. My angel, my Kenna. There isn’t a better woman out there for me. Even our bodies come together like two pieces connecting in a jigsaw puzzle.
I finish getting ready then head into work, running a little late. Ryder won’t mind, and with as many hours as I have put in since my return, I honestly don’t care if he does. I will get there when I get there and work my ass off from the time I arrive to the time I leave.
At the shop, the boys seem distracted today. Where is the Farmer’s Almanac? Is a full moon coming? Guys aren’t like women; we don’t get our periods at the same time. Yet, that’s what it seems like today.