Forever Yours (More Than A Feeling|Sequel)

Thirty-Eight: You Still Get My Heart Racing

I sat with Elise on the bed as we watched TV together. I had her sitting between my legs while I was propped up against the headboard and pillows of the bed. I was massaging her shoulders, which I had just absentmindedly started doing a few minutes ago. We talked here and there, too, mostly in between commercials or to make a sarcastic comment about something on the show we were watching. Just did most of the sarcasm, and I mostly laughed at it.  

Then on one commercial break, she suddenly said, "I don't think I'm going to go back to work at the end of my time off." 

I stopped and reached up with one hand to gently turn her head to look at me. "But... why?" I asked, confused. 

"Well, I'll just have to go on maternity leave in few more months, and then when the baby's born I want to be home to take care of them while you're at the studio and everything, and I don't really want to be working the late shift." Elise explained. 

"Hun, you don't have to do that if you really don't want to. One of the girls would be happy to look after the baby while I'm at the studio and you're working. I know how much you love your job." I told her softly. 

"Yes, I do love my job, but I love our baby more. Maybe when he or she gets older, I'll go back to being a tattoo artist, but for now, I'm content with just being a mom. Besides, if that kid is anything like you, I'm going to have to be the one that keeps them in line." She smirked a little.

"I don't know whether or not to take that as insult." I teased, and she laughed a little. More seriously, I said, "But if that's what would make you truly happy, then don't let me talk you out of it." She grinned and pecked my lips as her way of saying thank you.

"I just have one request." She said.

"Yes?"

"Could you go back to massaging my shoulders for a little while longer? It felt so good!" 

I chuckled. "Anything for you." I kissed her cheek and then proceeded to fulfill her request. 

As the sun started to go down, we decided to go for a walk on the beach. We'd spent most of the day just relaxing and being lazy, what we do best. For a while we sat out on the balcony, listening to music and sipping cold drinks. It had been really warm out today, but now that the sun was going down, it was starting to get cooler and there was a gentle breeze in the air. 

There was nobody on the beach at this hour, at least on our end of it. You could see some people still sitting on the sand way off in the distance, where another hotel was, but where we were there was nobody. But we didn't mind it, we liked having the beach to ourselves because it was quiet and we could fool around. 

We walked hand in hand, near the water but not quite close enough for it to touch us. Both of us were barefoot, we'd been able to sneak out of the hotel like that. Usually they require that you wear shoes throughout the hotel except for a few places that had exceptions, but since when do we always follow the rules? 

"So," I started as we kept walking. "It's day three being here. How are you feeling?" 

She smiled. "Better, a lot better. It actually doesn't bother me anymore, when I look in the mirror. It's nothing more than just an outline of the past, it doesn't make me who I am, it doesn't define me." 

"That's good, that means my mission has been accomplished. But... I have to ask..." I trailed off, thinking of how to word this. She looked up at me, waiting. "In the time that you battled your depression, did you ever... think about... cutting again?" 

Once I'd said it, we stopped walking. She studied me for a moment before she said, "I did think about it, once, but I wasn't thinking about doing it again. I'd thought about why I would ever think of something like that as a solution to my pain, why anyone would in the first place. Doesn't it just bring you more pain? Physical pain? So what's the point? Making yourself bleed doesn't solve your problems, and I think I came to realize that quite a while ago." I knew what she meant by that. When she'd cut herself over a year ago, during the time we'd argued a lot, she found that in no way did it help us to stop arguing. It really just turned into another fight.