She Coyote

37. Confessions

COYOTE
Jude was asleep in our bed. I was by the window. I stared out at the world around me. For the first time in a long time I thought about my mom.

I remembered her courage and her kindness. I remembered the way her short, choppy hair would feel underneath my adolescent fingertips. She was too beautiful for this world. I was finally coming to terms with her death. I felt like I was finally at peace.

I thought about her and only her. Not about Anthony or her death or her sickness. I thought about her laugh and the memories we created. She taught me how to keep my peace through obstacles and how to rise above the difficulties life created. I tried my best to mirror her character, and I finally realized that I didn't need to try. She ran through my veins, her genes forever a part of me. That comforted me. She was in my heart and I lived on, so she did, too.

"Baby?" I heard Jude's raspy voice call out from the mattress. I peaked back at him over my shoulder, the moonlight filtering into the room and casting a blue sheen across his bare chest. He rubbed his eyes sleepily with his hand, adjusting himself in the sheets. "Somethin' wrong?"

I shook my head, crossing the room and climbing in bed beside him. He welcomed me into his arms and tugged me closer, sighing as he closed his eyes again. "You sure?" He asked quietly.

"I was just thinking about my mom." I confessed, picking at my fingernails. He lifted his arm so he could twist in the covers, laying down with his eyes facing me. "I think she would have liked you." I tell him.

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Doubt it."

"No, really." I laughed a little and he shook his head.

"I don't think she'd want her daughter hooking up with some no good street rat, you know? Just common sense." His choice of words were intended with humor, but I could see the truth lurking behind the mask he wore.

"First of all, what happened to the ever so optimistic Jude? What happened to 'it's all about thinking positive?' Huh?" I pressed, curling my leg up to wrap around his torso as my hands explored the soft skin on his chest and neck and arms.

He chuckled, his hand stroking my hair and urging my face into the crook of his neck. I could see that he was smiling. "I guess I should take some of my own advice."

"How have you been feeling lately?" I asked him for what seemed like the hundredth time since meeting him.

"The withdrawal sucks, but it gets easier with time. It's the first week or so that I can barely get past." He ran his fingers along my arm, his voice hardly above a whisper. "And having you with me makes life easier." He spoke into my hair with a soft grin.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit." I murmured.

"I'm handling this like a kid who isn't getting the candy he wants." He retorted.

I shook my head, turning so I was facing him. "You're fine right now." I brushed my fingertips against his cheek. "Aren't you happy right now?"

He brought my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against them, his eyes closed. "I'm the happiest I've ever been." He said quietly and it made my heart pound.

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration." I insisted, my cheeks flushed.

"Beth was fun because we were always too high to care about anything. I was used to her, she was something I used as a crutch. I feel more grounded with you, more awake." He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling at me. "It's cheesy, I know."

"Yes it is." I teased. He playfully grabbed ahold of my shoulders and pushed me down onto the bed, hovering overtop me. He attacked my neck with a plethora of kisses, occasionally sucking on the skin. I burst into a fit of laughter from the tickling sensation, swatting at him. He paused for a second, only to ask, "do you still love me?" His eyes were on me, but his lips pressed kisses by my collarbone.