I blinked through my tears. "We are far from being whole again. But I'm at a better place in my understanding of what has been driving you. I want things to get back to the way they used to be before we were married. If that's even possible."
Drake nodded fervently. "I'll do whatever it takes."
As we all stood, Drake came around the table. I was stiff as he hugged me. But when he pressed my head to his shoulder and kissed my hair, I clung to him, sobbing. I'd missed him so much. I hated how things were right now.
That night, upstairs in the guestroom that would be my temporary new home, I opened the windows that looked out over the Atlantic. The summer breeze drifted in, making the short curtains dance. Above the dark water, the distinctive red lights of an airplane blinked across the star-studded sky. Although I was surrounded by my best friend, sister-in-law, and now my husband, I felt as isolated as that plane up in the atmosphere.
Malcolm and Becca's suggestion held both promise and trepidation. They'd given us a generous deadline of nine months—until I'd given birth—to work on our marriage. To determine if we were better off with or without each other. With or without the kink factor. And we had to decide not only for ourselves but also for our unborn child.
My breath caught as one thought nagged at me in the silence. What if—despite what he'd said—Drake realized he'd rather be Master of the Universe than the man I'd fallen in love with? The man I thought I'd married? I would be left to raise a baby on my own.
Those thoughts brought new tears to my eyes. I wiped my fist at them as I climbed into bed, considering not being with Drake at the end. I didn't want that. But I refused to return to the life we had.
On Saturday, Malcolm thought it would be a good idea to do something as a group. It was a little strange walking beside Becca instead of Drake as the four of us strolled down the boardwalk in Ocean City. I'd always envisioned doing something like this, holding my husband's hand, catching kisses on the sly.
Instead, I watched his back as he talked with Malcolm while Becca and I shared our own conversation about her books and Malcolm's new job. How their lives had been since we'd last seen each other and they'd moved out east. I'd been around them for several days now, yet we hadn't done any of the catching up I thought we'd do. We'd kept to ourselves, mostly at my own doing.
I was reminded of Drake's strength in the way he carried himself. How straight he kept his back and neck as he walked. How his shoulders were relaxed but their girth implied muscles beneath. He was quite fit, and his clothes did little to hide that.
I thought of how sculpted he always looked without his shirt on. How long it had been since I'd seen his bare abs. An addendum to our agreement had been to be abstinent. To work on rebuilding our relationship beyond the sex. Nine months seemed like a lifetime, and it made me groan inwardly. Especially when I realized it would only get harder as I got bigger over that same period of time.
My eyes dropped to my husband's ass, currently cloaked in a pair of khaki shorts. I'd forgotten already what it felt like to grip him there while he made love to me. To actually have endearing sexual relations. Fucked? Yes. That was a week ago. Made love? It had been months. I stifled a whimper and turned my attention back to Becca.
Lunch was fresh crab at an Irish pub. Then we critiqued the sand castle art from a recent competition, which lightened the mood. After we browsed in the souvenir shops, we stopped to watch the sun set.
Overall, it was a relaxing day. Yet, I felt exhausted. Overwhelmed with emotions.
Once we returned to the house, I said I'd had too much sun and retired to my room. Drake gave me a soft kiss on the forehead, his hands gently cupping my shoulders. He said he was flying to California Sunday morning. He hated to leave so soon, but he felt better now that we had the foundations of a plan. And he'd be back by the end of the week.
I lay in bed with the evening breeze blowing across my face. I could not wrap my mind around the fact that this was my life now. I had thought everything was perfect when I was dating Drake. Getting married wasn't supposed to change that except to maybe make it even better. How wrong I'd been. Before I fell asleep, I vowed that we would talk more. It may have prevented all of this.
Sunday was overcast, which was fitting for the end of the weekend. As Drake's rental car drove off into the morning light and we waved goodbye, Malcolm turned to me. "I'm proud of you, Daphne. You can do this."
My bottom lip trembled, my voice hoarse as I spoke. "But what if after all we do, he doesn't—"
"Shh." Becca gave me a sideways hug. "Have faith, Daphne. Have faith."
Even though Drake was gone, I decided to get a head start on talking to a professional. Malcolm and Becca gave up their appointment on Monday afternoon so I could meet with their psychiatrist. I insisted Becca go with me for the first visit. While she stayed in the waiting room, just knowing she was there helped to calm my nerves.
She had already filled me in on details of her experience with the doctor. How I shouldn't feel pressured to open up right away, and to
