CHAPTER 11
“Are you okay?”
Our morning was busy, and between the early flight and the unexpected traffic, a little more chaotic than expected. Avery smiled, turning her body toward me after she finished getting Annabelle settled in her window seat on the plane.
When she looked at me now, I felt like she liked what she saw. I knew our bond had strengthened these past few days, bridging a gap from the distant and angry first weeks after my accident to a common ground that would lead us back to normal — whatever that was.
“Yes.” She slid her hand into mine and squeezed. “Are you?”
I nodded, smoothing my thumb over the knuckle on her first finger. “Getting better every day.”
While that wasn’t entirely true, I knew she appreciated the sentiment. In the three days since I’d found the laptop full of my life with Avery, things had shifted. It started in the shower, but it hadn’t ended there. I was in this, I wanted it, and she knew it. She finally believed it.
Her cheeks flushed, no doubt thinking of the water running over our bodies as we began to find our way back to each other. She looked up at me, and I felt a slow grin spread across my face as I took in her expression. I hoped she was thinking about the shower. I’d been unable to think of anything else.
She poked me in the ribs with her free hand.
“Stop that.”
“I can’t,” I said seriously. “Don’t make me.”
She rolled her eyes and I grinned. These moments when it seemed like nothing had changed were coming more frequently, and I welcomed them. What neither of us were admitting was the desperate, unrealistic hope that somehow I would step off the plane in Texas and suddenly remember everything.
It was fucking unlikely, but I wanted it. Badly.
“Are we going up in the air, Mama?” Annabelle’s little voice brought me out of my deep-thought bubble.
“Soon,” Avery told her. “And as soon as the pilot says it’s okay, we’ll turn on one of your movies.”
“Okay,” she said, seeming satisfied, but then her brow furrowed and she looked at Avery worriedly. “We’re going home, right?”
“Yes, baby,” Avery reassured her.
This hadn’t been easy on her, the traveling, Avery’s overwhelming sadness that she’d tried so hard to hide. I was doing my best to smooth the disconnect, but little kids were perceptive. Annabelle was no fool and I never underestimated her.
“All of us together?” Her eyes were huge when she looked at Avery.
“All of us together,” I confirmed with a wink, squeezing Avery’s fingers lightly.
“Yay!” She switched her baby doll from one arm to the other, bouncing slightly in her seat. “I can’t wait to tell Grandma and Grandpa all about my trip!”
Meeting the parents took on a whole new meaning when you were re-meeting your wife’s parents that you were actually well acquainted with in your non-amnesiac life. According to Avery, her father and I got along so well that we were friends outside of just a superficial in-law situation. But now… I was certain they knew that things weren’t all hearts and flowers immediately post-coma, otherwise we would’ve been back in Texas weeks ago. I would add them to the list of people whose trust I needed to rebuild.
The plane taxied down the runway and into the air, and after the seatbelt sign clicked off Avery turned on Annabelle’s movie. I watched as she sat back in her seat, a cloud of emotions moving across her face. Despite her outward calm, I knew Avery had to feel overwhelmed about everything that still lay before us. There were only so many ways I could reassure her, but I’d keep trying until she understood.
The idea of taking her into my arms was still a luxury, one that I took advantage of every time I could, and so I pushed the armrest between us out of the way and pulled her closer, enjoying the feeling of her against my body.
“Avery.” I tipped her face up to meet my eyes, searching for everything she was feeling but wouldn’t say.
“Yes?” Her voice was soft, tired, as she gazed at me.
“Telling you not to worry is pointless, so I’m going to to amend it to please try not to worry so much, okay? I know we didn’t get to all walk out of the hospital together the way you wanted,” I paused and brushed my thumb over her cheekbone, trying to keep the regret from overtaking my words. “But this flight — us going home to Texas — is the next-best scenario. Thank you for letting me come.”
She smiled. “You’re doing that Fox thing again, the one where you look at me all seriously and speak a lot of words and then my head spins a bit.” Her voice was light, but her eyes welled up with tears and she blinked rapidly.
I laughed once, pulling her into me a little tighter. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be sorry. I missed it. I was afraid for a while that we’d end up leaving without you.” She put her arm around my torso, resting her cheek on my chest. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I slid down in my seat a bit to make us more comfortable, taking a quick second to check on Annabelle before I kissed the top of Avery’s head. “Nowhere I’d rather be,” I said, my lips still against her hair.
I felt her body relax slightly in my arms, the combination of her nearness and her willingness to trust me filling my heart and soothing my always-scrambling mind. I rested my chin lightly on the top of her head, smoothing a few errant blond waves back from her forehead with my free hand.
“Close your eyes if you want, Avery. I’ll make sure Annabelle has everything she needs.”
It didn’t matter if I lost my memories from the past year or the past ten years, because I was here now and the woman in my arms and the little girl next to her were my top priority until I took my last breath. Losing people I loved was a fucking terrible part of life that I was in no hurry to repeat, but closing myself off from the ones that loved me was almost worse. I would never do that again. Not ever.
* * *
The rest of the flight was uneventful and we actually arrived early, deplaning and heading into the hot sun as we trekked across the airport parking lot.
Avery explained that she’d asked everyone to give us time to settle, and I was glad it was just the three of us, holding hands with Annabelle in between as I took my first steps toward re-acclimating to Texas. I swept my gaze over the flat, dusty landscape as we approached the big truck Avery indicated. There was a familiarity about all of this that was comforting. My episodes of not-quite-deja-vu but something were increasing as the days went on, and I took that as a positive sign.
“This is my truck, isn’t it?” I asked as I loaded our luggage into the bed.
Avery looked up from securing Annabelle’s seatbelt. “Yes. Do you— do you remember it?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “But I like it.”
Her face registered a split second of disappointment before her expression cleared. “No,” she corrected me with a smile. “You love it.”
I grinned at her as I stood outside the vehicle, admiring the custom wheels and tow package before I hopped into the passenger seat. “Yeah, you’re right.”
On our scenic route home, I tried to take everything in without pushing myself to identify it. Avery snuck glances over at me as she drove, gauging my reactions, but my overall feeling was relaxed. This felt right, this truck, this highway. I rolled down my window, letting the wind blow through the cab and swirl through the girls’ hair, making Annabelle giggle. There was sunlight and open space here that I didn’t even know I wanted until I felt it all around me.
When we got to the more central streets of Brancher, Avery started casually pointing out landmarks. Annabelle thought that this was an especially fun game and joined in, keeping a running commentary going while we passed some of her favorite places.
“Look, Fox! There’s my school!” she cried.
I looked where she pointed, to the tiny elementary campus and its little preschool bungalow just outside, painted in cheerful colors. “Where is your classroom?” I asked her, turning in my seat.
“Right there!” She pointed. “And there’s our park!”
I took a good look at the park. Avery told me I’d spent a lot of time there, especially during my first weeks in Brancher. I could see that — the old pull-up bars and climbing structure would be useful as a makeshift gym. Between that and the jogging path that wound around the trees, I probably did a lot of my rehab right here.
“Coffee, BBQ, laundromat,” Avery said as we drove into town a little further.
I knew Brancher was small, but I hadn’t comprehended exactly how small until I realized that these streets made up the entirety of downtown. There were no chain stores, no plethora of restaurants or boutiques. Everything was efficient and well-maintained, but simple. Only the necessities, no fuss, no frills.
“Kent’s Kitchen.” The sign above a diner made me pause. “That’s it, right? Your family’s place where we worked together.”
Avery followed my gaze to the front of the diner, where we could just see an older woman through the window, taking an order at one of the booths.
“Yes.”
“It’s nice. Looks exactly like I pictured it from the video.”
Her face fell slightly, and I knew she was hoping that I’d remembered it. I knew she didn’t want to keep asking the same question, but we were all wondering. What would being back in Brancher mean for my memory?
“Do you want to go back to my— I mean, our house?” Avery stumbled over her words a bit. “Or I could take you upstairs at the Kitchen to see your old flat, but most of your stuff is at the house. But we could pick it up, or you could just, um…” she trailed off, her voice unsure.
Her hands twisted nervously as she waited for my response, and for the millionth time since that day I’d asked her to move into the condo I wished that I’d never put her though the hell that was the weeks after my coma. There was nothing I could do to erase it, that time of distance and uncertainty, and I hated it. She was trying so fucking hard to make everything okay for me, when all I wanted was for things to be okay for her.
I shoved my sunglasses to the top of my head so I could really look at her. “I want to go wherever you are. Please keep believing that.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, feeling that shame creep up on me again. “No, Avery. No apologies. If anyone owes one, it’s me.”
She looked away from me for just a second to check on Annabelle in the back seat, and I followed her eyes. Annabelle was seemingly oblivious, cradling her baby doll and talking softly to it. All was right in her world now — we were home, together, and things could return to normal as far as she was concerned. I hoped like hell that she was right.
“I don’t want an apology, either,” she told me.
I opened my mouth to argue but she silenced me with a gentle finger over my lips.
“I just want you, here, with us.”
I slid my hand up and intertwined my fingers through hers, kissing her knuckles. “Let’s go home then.”
A few minutes later, we pulled into an old driveway connected to a tiny house, and Avery unlocked the front door with a flourish. Annabelle ran down the little hallway immediately, and I followed Avery inside, trying to take everything in.
The rooms were small but well cared-for. I scanned the kitchen and the living room, noting the clean and colorful decor, and slowly made my way down the hallway. Avery followed behind me, observing silently. I’d kept my expectations of our home carefully blank, not making any assumptions or asking too many questions. I knew that Avery and Annabelle lived simply, that my presence in their lives somewhat eased a financial burden, but all I saw in this house was the hard work and meticulous care that Avery put into everything she did.
She wanted me. She didn’t need me, not for money or for security. She’d made a life for herself and Annabelle and very kindly invited me into it. It made me itch to give her the entire world just to watch her laugh and tell me it was too much.
I ducked my head quickly into Annabelle’s room, then turned to the last room in the house — what I assumed was our bedroom. Hesitating by the door, I looked to Avery.
“Can I?” It didn’t feel right to just go in.
She nodded, and I stepped into the room, turning in a meandering three-sixty. The first thing that caught my eye was a collection of silver picture frames on the nightstand, and I walked over to get a closer look.
I traced my fingers slowly over the photograph of the two of us on our wedding day, me in my formal tuxedo and Avery so breathtakingly beautiful in her dress. There was one of me holding Annabelle, her arms around my neck with her little face pressed against mine, kissing my cheek. The third picture was of Lucas, Heather, Avery, and me, laughing as we toasted our marriage.
“I like these,” I said. I liked that she had them here, close by even when I was gone, to look at whenever she wanted.
She smiled. “Me too.”
I turned to the closet, skimming a hand along my shirts hanging there, before going to the dresser in the corner of the room. I hesitated again, and Avery walked over to stand next to me.
“Your side is on the left.”
I nodded, giving her a quick half-smile before opening the top left drawer. She watched as I methodically worked my way down, scanning the contents of each one briefly. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but every piece of me in this room made me feel a little more like this was actually my life.
“You have more things in the living room,” Avery said. “Books, some computer stuff.”
Even better. More of me here with her, no matter where I actually was. I stepped closer, resting a hand on either side of her waist gently. “I know this is weird for you. I appreciate your patience, Avery.”
“I— I want you to feel at home,” she said into my shoulder.
I pulled her closer, my lips at her temple. “When I’m close to you, it feels more like home to me than any room ever could.” It was corny as shit but I’d never meant anything more.
She raised her face to look at me, and I bent my head slightly, touching my lips to hers hesitantly at first, waiting for her reaction.
I didn’t have to wait long before she slid her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the intensity of our kiss. Trusting me, still, or more accurately, again. I responded immediately, opening my mouth and softly tracing the outline of her lips with my tongue. A slow moan came from the back of Avery’s throat when our tongues finally touched, and I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, smoothing my hands up from her waist to cup her face so I could kiss her more thoroughly. With one hand on her cheek I slid the other around to wind my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, massaging her scalp lightly as I scraped my lips from her jawline to under her ear.
She gasped when I drew her earlobe between my teeth and bit down softly, pulling her closer still so she could feel exactly how much I wanted her right now. I held her against me tightly, kissing my way down the side of her neck, her soft skin a welcome contrast against my unshaven jaw. I hadn’t forgotten how to touch her — her body was a map I’d memorized for good.
“How did I ever get anything done?” I mused, bringing my mouth back to hers for another long, slow kiss. “I must’ve spent all my time wanting you.”
Avery kissed me again, laughing quietly against my lips. “You did say I was distracting.”
“Understatement.”
“Mama! Fox!” Annabelle’s voice beckoned from across the hall.
I pulled her tightly against me again for another split second, then released her quickly. “And that’s our version of a cold shower, then?” I grinned, amusement clear in my voice.
I’d never anticipated feeling so close to Annabelle so quickly. Avery, yes, but her little girl? She’d worked her way into my heart that first day, even though I hadn’t wanted to recognize it, when she’d thrown herself into my arms without hesitation as I’d lain in the hospital bed, confused and scared. If it were at all possible, I thought that we were closer now than before my memory loss, because she was the only person in my life that didn’t treat me like I had amnesia. Annabelle had never fully understood that I didn’t remember her so she hadn’t given me time to re-learn anything about our relationship — she just picked up right where we left off and expected me to keep up. In some ways, it was exactly what I needed.
“I’m coming, Bells,” I called to her, and kissed Avery’s cheek before I slipped out of the room.