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I gave myself to the sensation of being penetrated. Every cell, every synapse in my brain belonged to Travis as he pushed inside me. Slowly, he filled me, and I revelled in the stretch, the feeling of being joined with him—being one with him. He touched my face and held my hand; he kissed my lips, my jaw, my neck. He made me lose myself. With every thrust, with every groan, he made the world disappear, he made everything but us disappear. He made me his.
Travis had always said sex was better without condoms. I usually topped, and I agreed with him. It was better. But feeling him come inside me was something else. It was more than just a convenience and more than extra sensitivity. It was a freedom, a complete giving. A statement that said “yours forever”. It felt like a gift.
Something had changed last night, for me at least, like I’d fallen in love all over again or something I couldn’t place. I don’t know if it was the uncertainty of Ma’s health or the reappearance of my estranged mother or the intimacy of what we’d done last night, but something was different. I needed to be near Travis. I needed him close, and by the way he hugged me and kissed me oh so softly before we left for the hospital, I figured he felt the same.
“How can I be a mum? Look at my hands. Mothers don’t have hands like this.” I stood up quickly and took both her hands in mine. Her hands were hard-working and callused, the knuckles on two fingers were flat and gnarled, her nails were cut short and dirty. But this wasn’t about her hands. Not at all. My voice was just a whisper. “A mother doesn’t love with her hands, Trudy. She loves with her heart.”
Greg shook his head at me. “Jesus, Sutton, you’re really into this, aren’t you?” “It’s your fault I’m even here,” I said, pointing my beer bottle at him. “You and Travis. He push, push, pushes me to do the best, to be the best. He gets right up my arse about it.” Greg grinned behind his beer bottle. “I bet he does.” Allan spat beer across the table, and Greg busted up laughing so hard, I think he almost did himself some internal damage. I thought about what I’d said… Travis gets right up my arse… Oh. My. God.
“I miss him, Ma. I can run this station, I can have bigger dreams and hopes for this farm, but I miss him.” “I know you do, love.” I shook my head. “It’s like having one lung removed. I can still live and breathe, but God, it’s not the same. My chest hurts and I have this hollow emptiness that weighs me down. And sometimes I think of him out of the blue and it stops me right where I stand, and I have to catch my breath.”
Travis, If this is your goodbye, please know that I am, and will always be, grateful for you. This desert has not changed in ten thousand years, yet now it is not the same. Like me, I guess. I washed your shirts today. They didn’t smell like you anymore. I will wait for you. I love you. If this is your goodbye, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.
I checked on him a few times over the afternoon, and he’d barely even moved. He’d wrapped himself around my pillow, which was kinda sweet until I realised he was also drooling on my pillow, and then I decided to make that one his pillow.
His smile kind of drained away the longer he stared at me. “Trav, what’s wrong?” I asked. He stepped in close to me and lifted my chin so he could stare into my eyes. “Marry me.” I blinked. Like an idiot. “What?” “Marry me.”
He almost—almost—touched his lips to mine. He licked his bottom lip like he was gonna kiss me, but he did that nose-nudge thing again, and my knees went weak. “Marry me.” “You know,” I whispered, all out of breath. “You know what that does to me.” He smiled his of-course-I-do smile, and spoke against my lips. “Then say yes.” Well, I probably would if I bloody could, but there was a serious synapses Travis-and-his-nose-nudging dysfunction in my brain. So I nodded. And he smiled.
