Moving on!

I headed to the fridge and was perusing options for dinner when I heard and felt Brock come back.

Determinedly setting the mood that what had just passed had passed and now we were going to get back to regularly scheduled programming that did not include bitchy, manipulative ex-wives or vicious, nasty, territorial ex-husbands, I stated, “Dinner choices, steak and potatoes, pork chops and rice, or hamburgers.”

I pulled my head out of his fridge, closed the door, and turned to Brock.

He was leaning his hips against the counter, hands to his sides, palms to its top, studying me.

Then he gave me my play and answered, “Pork chops and rice.”

I nodded, opened the fridge, and pulled out the package of pork chops. I dropped it on the counter and opened the cupboard to pull out the box of seasoned rice.

“What’s with the bags?” Brock asked as I tilted my head down to study the directions on the rice.

“Christmas presents,” I answered. “The boys get here tomorrow and the area under the tree is a little barren. Tree skirts are not meant to be barren, especially in a house with two boys aged ten and twelve. So tonight I’m wrapping and tomorrow they’ll get here and see presents under the tree.”

“Babe, how much did you buy them? There’s gotta be twenty rolls of wrapping paper there.”

“Something to learn about me,” I muttered to the box. “I have a weakness for wrapping paper and not just the Christmas kind.”

This was met with silence.

Until, “Babe, forgot to tell you something.”

I looked from reading the directions on the box of rice to Brock to see he had hauled himself up on the counter and was sitting on it.

“Yeah?” I asked hesitantly.

“Coupla weeks ago, you gave me a fuckin’ sweet nightie and words I loved hearing.”

I felt my entire body go still as I held his eyes.

“Forgot to mention I feel the same,” he stated and my insides hollowed out.

“What?” I breathed.

“Put down the rice and come here, baby. I wanna tell you I love you when you’re in my arms.”

I didn’t move. I stared at him, my internal organs gone, but still my body managed to produce tears that gathered in my eyes and promptly and silently slid down my cheeks.

Brock watched this for about two seconds then he whispered, “Tess, darlin’, come here.”

I went there. He opened his thighs and reached out to me when I got close. He pulled me between his legs, deep into him, one arm tight around me, one hand cupping my head and pressing my cheek against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on.

He dipped his head so his lips were at the top of my hair and whispered, “I love you, my sweet Tess.”