A Rose and Its Thorns (Come Back To Me #2)

Chapter One

So this is what happiness feels like.

I am content with my life. Happy, even.

A red plaid blanket that feels like home is wrapped around Alex and I's intertwined bodies on our couch. Not like I really need it, considering the way he radiates heat, but it adds to the overall comfort that the evening has given me.

Snowflakes fall outside the giant picture window behind me. The thermometer suggests the temperature feels like hell has frozen over, and the sky is pitch black. The only outside light comes from our small porch lamp that gives a dim yellow tint to a small patch of the frosty grass.

The TV is playing an old Rocky movie, and Alex is really invested in it, even though he's seen it over a hundred times (not even an exaggeration). I'm snuggled into his side, with this fuzzy little blanket covering me up to my nose, and my eyes peeking out enough that I can see the television.

It is in this moment that I realize I am truly, totally, and absolutely content with my life. Regardless of financial struggles, or family fights, or whatever else might be going on in our crazy lives, I am simply happy. I need one person, and that one person is here, sitting next to me, yelling "this never gets old!" as he watches Rocky fight Tommy Gunn.

When the TV goes to a commercial break, Alex gently taps me on the shoulder, in that sheepish way he always does. I raise my head to look at him. He takes a deep breath.

"Nick called me earlier." He says as he brushes my hair out of my face.

"Yeah?" I try to read his emotions, but the guy is like a rock. I'm getting nothing.

"Yeah, while I was on my lunch break." Alex looks away from me, and there is the telltale sign that something has him upset.

"Well, what did he say?" I ask.

"He wanted to meet up and talk," A pause. "I told him no."

"Why?"

"I don't want to," Another pause. And I know better than that. "I'm not ready."

"I'm not saying you have to talk to him, but I don't think it's a bad idea," I say as I untangle myself from his arms and stand. I stroll toward the kitchen and grab a glass from the cabinet.

"I don't want to," He repeats.

"Alex," I start. "You're never going to get anywhere with him if you don't talk to him." He doesn't respond. I stick my glass under the water spigot and run some cold water into the glass. "Look, I know you're pissed at him, and he's just as pissed at you, but-"

"Stop."

I quit pressing him. I guess if he wants to have a bad relationship with his brother, then I'll let him. I bring the glass to my mouth and feel the cold water slip down my throat. Suddenly uncomfortable, I rest my free hand on the counter and look at the cute picture of Dalmatians on our calendar.

I don't know how long he's quiet, but it's a while. Maybe five minutes.
Long enough that I think we're done with the conversation, but apparently not.

"He blames me for it. But it wasn't me. It was him," Alex shakes his head and turns slightly to look out the window.

My heart is breaking for him. I walk back to the couch and sit my glass on the side table. I sit on his lap and put my arms around him.

"It wasn't you," I whisper. "You didn't make him do it."

I kiss his cheek before resting my hand in the crook of his neck. I feel his strong hand wrap around my tiny fingers.

"No, but I didn't have to tell Lexy, either," Alex shakes his head and breaks away from my stare. "God, I'm such a screw up. It wasn't my business to get into."

I don't have a verbal response for that. I can't tell him, 'no, honey, you were justified in what you did' because I don't necessarily believe that. In all honesty, I don't think it was his business. Nick and Lexy's relationship was not his business. In my opinion, it wasn't his job to tell Lexy that Nick had been cheating.

"It doesn't really matter who told her. She was going to find out eventually anyway," I muster up the best response I could.

It just shouldn't have been you to tell her.

"You're right," He leans his head against my shoulder. "I just don't get why, you know? He had it all. I mean, I always figured he loved Lexy the same way I love you, so why would he risk that? Why would he risk losing what I figured was the best thing he had going for him?"

"He probably had his reasons," I answer. "Maybe they weren't as happy as we thought."

"I guess not. I feel bad for Ty, though. Kid's gonna grow up shuffling between houses. Living out of a suitcase." Ty is Nick and Lexy's baby, who isn't even out of diapers yet. Alex switches the TV off, and we are left sitting in silence. The dim light from the living room lamp casts a shadow over his face. "And I'm the reason for that."

"You've got to stop blaming yourself. It's going to be better for him to grow up in two happy homes than it would've been in one miserable, angry one." I try to be a voice of reason to his unreasonable blaming of himself.

"You don't know they would've been miserable and angry."

"And you don't know that they wouldn't have." Alex doesn't answer me again. I stand up and feel the cold of the hardwood flooring engulf my bare feet. It's late, and without looking at my phone, I would guess it's sometime around midnight. I take a final swig from my water glass before dumping what's left down the drain. "I'm going to bed. Turn the lights off before you come up then."

He mumbles what I assume to be an "okay" and I quickly kiss him before starting up the stairs.

The bedroom is freezing. No surprise there. I crank the heat up and grab an extra quilt out of the closet for on the bed tonight. It's a patchwork one my grandmother made for us when we moved into the house. She'd told me you can never have enough blankets, and she wasn't wrong.

I curl up in the queen size bed and toss and turn until I am comfortable. My hope is that I can go right to sleep, but that doesn't seem to be the case. At first I contemplate Alex's situation, and whether or not I think his relationship with Nick can be mended. After coming to a mental deadlock, I move on to my own problems.

I have a job interview tomorrow. The local high school is interviewing me for a substitute teaching position, and I'm really hoping to get it. Flipping burgers at the local McDonald's isn't helping much to pay the bills.

I've had an interview with the school already. The previous summer they interviewed me for a full time position as an english teacher, but they went with someone else. I'd had five interviews at other places since, but none of them successful. I was hoping tomorrow would finally be my lucky day.

For my college education to be worth it, I needed to actually get a job in my field. For the four years I spent living twelve hours from home to be worth it, I needed to actually get a job in my field. And for all the sacrifices Alex had made for us to get by to be worth it, I needed to actually get a job in my field.

I hear the bedroom door creek open and I know that Alex is coming to bed. He pulls the covers back and joins me in the mass of blankets on the bed. I immediately feel the warmth from his body surround me.

He slings his arm across my midsection and I hear him whisper in the faintest voice, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whisper back. He gives me a little squeeze and takes a deep breath.

That is the last thing I remember before falling asleep for the night.