Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
He made an irritated noise but trudged upstairs, changed, and swapped out his hip holster for his ankle one, and between the henley hugging every muscle in his arms and chest and the faded jeans doing great things for his legs and ass, I was on the brink of saying that we could, in fact, stay home until I remembered that Dylan needed me. She and Chris had hit a rough patch. Her oldest was out of the house, the younger ones were busy teenagers who between friends, and school, had little to no interest in her or Chris. So basically, they had a lot more time for each other. The new togetherness, it turned out, was not going well.
The meeting was at Triton College in River Grove, in one of the large rooms there, and as soon as we walked in, I saw that the chairs were in a half-circle in front of a chalkboard. Dylan waved, and we crossed to her through the people milling around, standing around, talking. Chris got up, hugged us both, first Sam, then me, and thanked us for coming.
“I really appreciate you guys,” he said, and I heard the catch in his voice.
“Where are we supposed to sit?” I asked her. I didn’t want to take someone’s chair.
“Just by us,” she answered, tearing up.
“What’s wrong with you?” I groused at her, and she instantly smiled.
“There’s so many chairs here because every couple was supposed to bring another couple for support, but look, there’s no way enough people came. It’s almost time to start and there’s going to be empty chairs.”
“It’s fine,” Sam assured her, giving her a grin. “Don’t worry.”
She nodded quickly, used to listening to him by now. Over the years, like most of my friends, she’d learned to trust his words.
Minutes later, there was an announcement, and everyone took their seats. There were two people teaching the class, a couple, husband and wife, Jillian and David. Ten couples were there, with only three having brought friends as requested. It was sad to hear the reasons from the seven couples that didn’t have support.
Most of our friends think we should split up.
They don’t have time for something they think is beyond broken.
People think we’d be happier apart.
“Do you think that?” Dylan asked, turning to me.
The room went quiet then, all eyes on me.
“Jory,” David prodded me. “Dylan wants to know what you think.”
I forced a smile and then turned to look at my friend. “Chris is the best thing in your life,” I told her. “He thinks you’re funny, which––” I grimaced. “––for the record, you’re not. He tells everyone that you’re smart and beautiful and kind, and most of all strong and gifted. He was there through everything you guys went through with your oldest, and now, I think, you need to decompress and relax and maybe take a vacation. We’ll check in on your kids for you.”
She turned to Chris, her eyes swimming, and I noted he was wiping at his.
“And, Chris, you know she adores you, because the first words out of her mouth are always, ‘Well, you know, Chris could do that better.’”
He nodded quickly.
“I think you guys just need more alone time instead of less. We all get so caught up in this stupid rat race, and we need to take a moment to savor what we have.”
They were hugging then, and she got up and moved into his lap, and there was way more hugging as I turned to look at David. “I don’t think they needed to be here,” I told him.
“Oh, I disagree,” he replied with a smile. “It’s the setting and having our friends come with us, who see us at times far more clearly than we see ourselves, that is so helpful.”
I looked at Sam.
“You can’t argue with that,” he said with a shrug.
After that, Chris and Dylan were floating around in a lovey-dovey cloud, but there was still time left in the session, and the instructor had visualization work for us to do. I sat beside Sam, and he did what he always did and held my hand, pulled my chair closer, put his arm around me, moved my hair out of my face, tucked a piece behind my ear, and then settled in.
On a break, Jillian approached us, smiling. She offered Sam her hand, then me, and when he excused himself to run to the bathroom, she stepped in front of me.
“Jory, may I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
“All of that behavior Sam exhibits, where he invades your space, and answers questions for the two of you, is that a constant thing or just now, here, because he’s feeling insecure about his hold on you?”
It took me a second. “I’m sorry?”
“He’s basically shown, in a very short amount of time, that he’s very much the alpha in your relationship and that you are subordinate to the dominant that he is. You have no agency at all, and my concern is that, when you’re away from here––” She struggled for a moment, appearing quite uncomfortable. “––are you safe?”