Red

Part 30

Mallery

Three years later

Surviving and living are not the same thing—I'm living proof of that. Learning to live is much different than learning the skills to merely survive. It takes more energy, more mental capacity, and more clarity to know how to make a life that is enriching versus a life of survival.

My family helped, being a stable and reliable aunt to my beautiful nephew and niece helped.

Bucky helped.

He's lived with his trauma and PTSD for more than a decade, and while my therapy offered me tools to tackle my own anxiety and trauma, Bucky showed me that it's possible to live a "normal" life. His constant love and support makes it easier to navigate the days when life seems harder, when the memories of my past creep up, and when I begin to feel guilty for my own involvement in how my life ended up.

So, the main theme of my life is just to live it. I enjoy every moment I can; I take the bad days with the good and try not to take anything for granted. With Bucky as my partner in this life, I feel like I can't go wrong.

We got married two years ago in a tiny non-denominational church in Brooklyn with our closest family and friends there to witness. It was a beautiful day that went by in a blur, but I wouldn't have changed anything about it. We spent our honeymoon in Greece, and when we returned, we went back to work and settled into married life, easily.

Sometimes, I look back on everything and think about how foolish I was for living my life without Bucky for so long, but I think that I needed to experience everything I did in order for me to appreciate what I now have. I was in love with him when I was sixteen, but I couldn't fathom what it meant—for me or for us.

Loving him was like realizing all I ever wanted was right there in front of me. Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to my old favorite song. Knowing that Bucky is in my corner, loving me completely and unconditionally, is the greatest gift in the world. Two years into our marriage, while we aren't old by any means, we aren't getting any younger. I want to start our family, and I know he wants the same.

But, we were having some issues with fertility, and I was starting to worry that years of drug and alcohol abuse and physical abuse were finally rearing their ugly heads. We were discussing whether or not we should go see a doctor when I suggested we just relax and take a break. We seemed to be doing things in our own time, so why not just let it happen if and when it does.

One weekend, Wanda invites me to go out to lunch. She and I have grown so much closer, and she's become such a dear friend and confidant. When I confide in her about our struggles, she tells me not to worry; she thinks I'll have an answer sooner than I think.

And that witchy woman was right.

The weekend of Sarah's fifth birthday, I wake up early, sicker than a dog, and decide to take a test. My period is barely a week late, but I've become as regular as a clock in the last two years, so I take the chance. When Bucky gets up, I lose my nerve and tell him I just couldn't sleep. He makes me breakfast and wraps our niece's presents while I take a shower and get dressed.

Hours later, after the other kids have gone home, Bucky is sitting on the floor while Sarah stands behind him, brushing his hair and adding all the glittery clips and bows she got for her birthday. An animated movie is playing on the TV and keeps catching her attention. He winces at a particularly hard pull but smiles when Sarah presses a kiss to his head. "Sorry, Uncle Bucky."

Grant is reading to me from a new book while Tash and Steve steal a few moments alone outside. Everything feels perfect ... except for one thing. I scoot Grant over a little and lean forward on the couch.

"Hey, babe?" I whisper softly, and when Bucky turns to smile at me, I could swoon then and there.

"Yeah, Red?" His blue eyes twinkle while his hair is stuck up in a million directions.

"You look really good." I smirk, snapping a picture on my phone.

"Oh, yeah? Do I look like a CEO?" He puffs up his chest a little, making me giggle.

"No, but you do look like a dad." I stare at him, a smile plastered on my face, willing him to pick up what I'm saying.

"I doubt I ... wait, what?"

"I took a test this morning," I tell him, showing him the picture I took on my phone around 5 AM. "I'll call the doctor on Monday."

"Are you serious, Red?" He climbs up onto his knees and crawls over to me. "Mallery?"

"I'm serious, Buck." With tears in my eyes, he pulls me to his chest, embracing me sweetly. "I love you." I murmur into his shirt.

"I love you too," Bucky says, pulling back to look me in the eyes. "It was about time you gave me the world."