Free Sketch by Laramie Briscoe Page B

she’s got up her sleeve.
    I’m doing it up big tonight. I think I have a recorded UFC fight on the DVR, and maybe I have enough food in the house to make a grilled cheese.
    The old me would have been embarrassed. It wasn’t exciting enough. Now it feels comfortable, it feels safe, I don’t feel the judgment I know would have come from the old Nina.
    Come over. Let me cook you dinner. I have a TV in my bedroom. If you don’t think you can keep your hands off me, you can always move it to the living room.
    I feel like I should invite her to our house, but again I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Taking her in our bed, the one that holds not only good but bad memories doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. I’m not sure we’ve come far enough yet.
    We’ll see. Want me to bring a movie?
    I purposely keep the tone light. I’m not expecting anything, I never will with her again. I’m realizing that while she took me for granted, I took her for granted too. I assumed she loved our life, I never asked. That makes me just as bad as I always thought she was, but I’m working through things in my own way.
    Yeah, nothing scary though. You know I hate that. Guess I better get up and run to the store. See you tonight, Sketch. Love you.
    We said those words last night, but seeing them written out gives me a hope I didn’t have before, and it hits me like a punch in the gut, but in a good way.
    Nicholas Sparks it is. Love you too.
    They feel right, they don’t feel forced, and I realize I mean them. I truly mean them. For so long I’ve been going through the motions. I’ve continued to say it, even though my heart wasn’t completely in it. Now, it’s all in, just like me.

Chapter Eighteen
    SKETCH
    “I thought I told you no scary movies. You promised Nicholas Sparks.”
    I laugh as Nina buries her head in my chest. Her voice is muffled as she speaks again. “Tell me when it’s okay to look.”
    “It’s just a movie.” I push my fingers through her hair as she turns her head so that she can breathe.
    “Bundy was just a serial killer,” she fires back at me, causing me to laugh again.
    I’m full from the dinner she cooked, and my eyes are heavy. Her bed is smaller than the one we shared as a couple, and we’re cozy because we have to be. I grasp her hand, bringing it up to my chest. When my fingers run over hers and I feel something I haven’t felt in a while, my eyes pop open.
    “You put it back on?” I glance down at the wedding ring and engagement set on her left hand.
    She nods. “I didn’t want to do it because that woman pissed me off; I wanted to do it because it felt right. After last night, it felt right.”
    I’m speechless, and the emotion is so much more than I thought it would be. I didn’t realize how badly that had fucked with my head when I was confronted with her taking it off. I didn’t appreciate how much that little slip of metal and diamond meant to me. “I’m glad.”
    She yawns and tightens her arm around my waist. “I am too. It doesn’t feel like an anchor weighing me down anymore. It feels like something I’m lucky to wear again. When I put it on I got the same feeling I got when we were first married. I would look down at it, grin to myself, and realize you were mine. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Today at the grocery, I ran my debit card, and the diamond caught the light. I felt that way again.”
    I kiss her head. “I’m glad.”
    “Don’t get me wrong, I know we’re not where we need to be. Trust still needs to be rebuilt, and I’m sure there will be more issues come up before we decide we want to live together again, but I feel like we’re in a good place.”
    “We are,” I agree.
    She moves her hand down my chest and pushes the tips of her fingers under the hem of my T-shirt, stroking lightly. It’s not a touch that’s meant to arouse, it’s a mindless thing she’s doing, and it’s lulling me into a state of relaxation I haven’t been in, in