Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

AINSLEY

SIX MONTHS LATER

"G lennon's on the phone," I called to Peter, leaning my head out the door. "She and her mom are in Panama City. She wants to know if you want a blue or red shirt from the gift shop."

He lifted his head up from where he was working in the yard. "Tell her to surprise me."

"Can do," I said, closing the door. "Did you hear that?"

She giggled. "I did. One glittery pink shirt coming up."

"Has Seth gotten down there yet?"

"He's coming down tomorrow after he gets back from Salt Lake City."

"How do you think he's doing?" I asked. I'd been concerned about him, though not concerned enough to invite him around. Not yet. I wanted Glennon to find her footing, to guide us in the direction she wanted to go. Would we ever be friends like we were before? I didn't know. I could no longer trust him. But with time, I was learning, all things could be healed.

"I don't know," she said. "I think he's happier, but I know his parents are struggling with it. The business is doing well, though. They just bought out a little mom-and-pop shop in Vegas. So what if he lost his trust fund? He doesn't need it anymore. What he needs is to be happy. We both do. I'm glad we're back to something cordial, though… I've missed him. "

"I'm sure you have, and I know he's happy to be seeing you again," I said. "I'm glad to see you happy. Whatever that means."

"Thanks, friend. I love ya. I'm gonna get off of here and pay for this adorable pink shirt I'm surprising Peter with," she said with a boisterous laugh.

I smiled, shaking my head. "Okay, we'll see you in a week. Love ya." I ended the call and grabbed the two glasses of lemonade I'd prepared. The summer was coming in quickly, and it was rare to find a day under ninety degrees anymore.

We'd waited to start our latest project until the investigation surrounding Stefan and Illiana's disappearances had died down. Though neither of them had been located, the news was reporting that the police believed the two of them could have crossed the border either north or south. A few months ago, the police had stopped patrolling the area, giving us our freedom and peace of mind back.

And Peter and I were better. We were trying true counseling this time, and it seemed to be helping.

Total honesty.

No more secrets.

That was our new philosophy. No more lies, even when they hurt.

Our marriage had become…interesting to say the least, but we were in it for the long haul, and that was all I could ask for. Besides, the sex had become phenomenal, usually ending with a few bruises, bite marks, and occasionally some blood.

Neither of us seemed to mind.

What we'd gone through had awakened something in us both. We were wild now, free and open with each other in a way we'd never been before. We parented differently, embraced life as it came. I didn't worry about all that I'd never get back, choosing instead to look forward to all I still had coming.

I wanted to live my life. I wanted to explore. And I wanted to do it all with Peter by my side.

"Here you go," I told him, handing over both glasses of lemonade before I jumped down from the edge of the porch. I took mine back once I'd landed and sank down in the lawn chair, watching him as he drank his glass. He leaned over, propping his arm against the handle of the garden hoe he'd been using to smooth the new concrete patio in our front yard.

The kids had been all too happy to disappear for the day, especially when we'd asked them for help tearing up the front porch to make way for our new project.

That left the house to ourselves and a full day to get our new patio completed. We'd been working tirelessly, but as the afternoon sun had begun to set, the concrete had been laid and smoothed. All that was left, after the concrete dried, was to build a small set of stairs from the little section of our porch that remained down onto the concrete slab.

It had been the biggest wave of relief—the moment Peter began pouring the concrete, the moment I realized we were actually going to get away with this. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Suddenly, nothing mattered.

We'd gotten through it.

We'd survived.

Peter walked over to me, bending down and kissing me square on the mouth. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. The kiss lingered, causing me to lose myself in the moment. When we broke apart, he smiled at me lovingly and ran a hand through my hair, then plopped down on the grass next to me, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Well, what do you think, Mrs. Greenburg?"

"It looks amazing," I told him. "Seriously, you'd think you were an architect or something."

He laughed. "Well, it's not half as good as my team could've done, but you should see the blueprint."

"We'll have to hang it up," I teased.

"I'm glad to have it done," he said. "I feel like I can breathe again."

I sipped my lemonade, staring out at the sun as it set. "Same."

He reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you," he said, catching me off guard.

"For what?" I asked with a soft laugh.

"For fixing me. For fixing us. I may not agree with your methods, but they worked. You fixed our marriage, Ainsley. You fixed me. Made me better. If not for you, I'd still be out there…lost. Messing things up for us."

"I fix things, honey. And you happen to be my favorite thing to fix." I winked at him, pursing my lips. He set his glass down, smiling up at me and jerking his head in the opposite direction, begging me to come sit next to him.

When I stood, he pulled me down onto his lap, kissing me deeply, his breath heavy. His sweat rubbed off on me as my lemonade spilled, but neither of us cared. We rolled in the grass, kissing and exploring like two teenagers.

He was right, I'd fixed us.

And I had zero regrets.