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I wish I could say I don’t think about Tabitha. But that would be a lie. Because much like the very first time I met her, I can’t get the woman out of my head. Haven’t been able to for the past two years.
This woman needs a target for her anger. Someone to blame so that she hurts a little less. And without even thinking it through, I decide I can be that person for
“Hey, asshole. I made you a bowl of carbonara so that I won’t have to hear your stomach all the way upstairs. I didn’t even poison it. Bon appétit and good night.” The door creaks as she closes it, but then it stops. Light spills down the stairs once again as she adds, “Oh, and I sleep with a gun under my pillow, so don’t try anything weird.” I drop my chin, and a smile curves my lips. Because I’m pretty sure that—in her own way—Tabitha Garrison was just nice to me.
When I become Wild Side, everything falls into place.
“Just fucking let me take care of you. Where is it?” He glances up at me, and my stomach bottoms out. All those dark features homed in on me. Him on his knees for me. Wanting to take care of me.
“Erika! Aunty Tabby Cat and Ree are getting married!”
“I promise that your dreams will be our dreams, and that I will do everything I can to make them a reality for both of us.”
“I promise to be a spectator to your life, a participant in your experiences, and your biggest advocate in every moment. I promise to allow you space to be those things in my life too.”
“I promise to cherish and reinforce the love between us in good times and in bad, when life is simple and when it’s complicated—when loving you is easy and when it takes effort.”
I wonder the same things I do when Milo watches Paw Patrol. How the hell does a child own and operate an excavator, and where the fuck are his parents?
It makes my heart squeeze so hard that it takes my breath away. But more than that, it makes me feel like we’re really fucking lucky to be stuck with Rhys.
have never been part of a we.
“Never mind this wedding band. I need a matching mask,” she calls over her shoulder as she hustles away, laughter floating through the chilled basement.
My wife this, my wife that. Did you know my wife owns that restaurant?” My jaw goes slack, and she sighs dreamily. “He’s so proud of you, you know? God, it’s adorable.” She grins at me. “So, at any rate, it’s nice to meet you.”
say, it’s Friday somewhere.”
People talk and move around us, but it all fades away when his next words hit my ears. “Take my mask off, baby.” “What?” “You heard me.” “But, Rhys…” My eyes bounce between his, my heart suddenly lodged in my throat. “You—” “Tabby, I’m tired of hiding. I don’t need to anymore, thanks to you. This is my choice. You and me. Together.”
She flattens her lips but doesn’t look up. “Sorry, I’ll try to gaze at you lovingly from where I’ve been exiled.”
Milo, now seven years old, sits on one side of her waving a sign that reads Wild Side is my dad in the messy scrawl of a small child. Our daughter, Minka Garrison, is wrapped against her chest with a pair of lime-green earmuffs covering her shock of dark hair.
