becoming {h.s} | {b2}

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

n. this chapter discusses racial realities. i want to remind all of my readers that this is a safe space to discuss freely and openly what is happening in the world. i encourage you all to use your voices; whether it be through donating, signing petitions, spreading information, or going to protests. last night i made an announcement on my page with several different things you can do. my writing is my voice, and i am using it to speak about the uncomfortable truths. please, as always, keep the comments constructive and kind; not vindictive and spiteful. if this is not a level of decorum that you can maintain, please, i don't need you here. i do not need you in any of my stories; i do not need you on my page at all.

to my beautifully colored readers: i see you, i hear you, i hope i am doing you justice. to my white readers: i'm not saying that we are the problem, but, i mean, we kind of are until we are actively a part of the solution.

— CHAPTER SEVENTEEN —

november, year two.

I don't know if it is the sunshine beaming through the windows of our bedroom, or Will's body nestling into mine that wakes me up first. It's uncharacteristically bright for this early in the morning in November, but I suppose that is just something that the sun will do for Will on his forty-second birthday. "Morning, Gracie," he mumbles, brushing his cheek against mine as he holds himself closer to me. His stubble scrapes against my cheek and I laugh alongside the unintentional tickles.

"Happy birthday," I coo, folding into him softly.

Things are far from normal between us. Better, but not normal. We are still hesitant around each other in ways that we never were before. Part of it is this newly ingrained sense of self-consciousness. Both of us are too scared to say the wrong thing and cause the other to get mad. Sitting down and talking about our issues last month was the best thing we could have done. Those were the things that needed to be said and when I walked out of that conversation, I felt better than I had in months. Lighter, in a sense. Like our relationship is no longer a sinking anchor, but one holding us together.

Following that chat, I moved back in. It was a moment of clarity for me. Going back to stay with Harry and Kiera would have been the easy thing to do. Hell, it would have been the preferred thing for me to do. If I walked back into my childhood home, I know I would have been happy. Harry would have been happy, and after my few days spent there, I think Kiera would be happy, too. We really seemed to get to know each other during those days. But I know that I wouldn't be fulfilled if I threw in the towel then. I wouldn't be with my husband. The best things in life are not always the easiest, and after that chat I knew one thing with certainty: I can't run from my problems. I can't run from the vows and promises that I made on September 7 last year. I promised that man a lifetime, I promised him better or worse. Running from the worse end of things is more reflective of me than it is of him, and I don't like that label on me.

"Thank you," he responds, pressing a kiss against my cheek. We'd opted to save the birthday sex for later in the evening and instead spend our morning efforts sleeping in. Our reconnection has been filled with long nights of fiery, life-altering, passionate sex. Good as it has been for our relationship, our sleeping schedules have been begging for some reprieve. Burning the candle on both ends has never been either one of our fortes. After leaving intern year, I promised myself that I would never again suffer through nights of less than four hours of sleep. Optimistic and unrealistic as this can be, it does help to have something to cling on to.

We've filled our blank hours with the other, reacquainting ourselves with the temporarily lost bodies of the other. Devout and ready to worship, we cocoon ourselves in our apartment without the intention of venturing far outward. Thanksgiving passed us this year rather privately. Will's birthday always falls right around Thanksgiving. Last year, we hadn't celebrated his birthday. I had been a mess following Harriet and he was too scared to leave me. Thanksgiving was something of an anomaly in itself when he invited so many people in our home. I think that was a last ditch effort from him. This year, Thanksgiving had been vastly different. We spent the day with only the both of us and Fitzy. Will and his sister had a falling out about a week ago and he didn't want to spend Thanksgiving with her, so we opted to stay here. Harry and Kiera were supposed to be with us as well, but Kiera kidnapped Harry and dragged him down south to celebrate the day with her family. Our celebration was small, but it was all that we needed. The three of us had a great evening.