The Long Way Home

by K. Langston

  Tears stream down my face as I wrap my arms around him. “I love you.” Those three words don’t seem nearly enough but it’s all I can say, my heart is lodged in my throat and my emotions are overwhelming. There is no greater gift than love and he gives it to me so selflessly.

  Pulling back, he takes the dainty chain from my hands and spins me around to put it on my neck. When he has it clasped in place, he presses a kiss to the nape, causing a shiver to ripple through me. Then he wraps his arms around my waist, resting both hands on my growing belly. “You’ll always be my life, Sylvie. My reason. My song.”

  Closing my eyes I lose myself in his embrace, knowing that, for the first time in my life, I’m exactly where I belong.

  Spinning in place, I wrap my arms around his neck, reaching up on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. “I have something for you, too.”

  His hands cradle my face as he deepens the kiss.

  Linc releases me and I walk over to retrieve the gift from my chifforobe, hand wrapped in brown paper with twine tying it off. He reads the small tag on the front out loud.

  I saved the best of my heart

  for the heart that understands the worst of me.

  As soon as he tears the paper he realizes what it is, his wide eyes lift to mine. “Your journal.”

  I nod.

  “Are you sure?”

  “There are things in there I could never say out loud. Everything that ever broke me and healed me is written within those pages. The words of my heart.”

  “I promise to take good care of it, baby.”

  “I promise to take good care of yours, too.”

  Curling his hand around my neck, he pulls me in for a long, sensual kiss. “You ready to start forever with me?”

  “Forever never sounded so good.”

  Linc

  The moon hangs low,

  Taunting the earth with its gravity and light,

  Finding comfort in the rise and fall of the tide.

  But when the sun rises again, stealing the night,

  A new day will dawn.

  Bringing with it a promise of hope

  That the moon shall return

  But only after the sun has had its moment to shine.

  Closing the journal, I let her words sink in. I’ve read them dozens of times since she gave it to me on our wedding day ten years ago but every time I read them, they find new meaning.

  A window to her heart, I eagerly climbed inside, devouring every word and thought, gorging myself on her longing, her grief, and her despair. It was one of the greatest gifts she’s ever given me, besides her love and our children.

  Lifting my guitar to my lap, I strum the chords, searching for a tune that matches the one thrumming in my heart.

  “Good morning, baby,” she says, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. “What are you doing up so early?”

  I lean my head close to hers, inhaling her sweet scent. “I was feelin’ inspired.”

  “Still working on that song?”

  “I was trying to.” I set my guitar aside and pull her around to sit on my lap.

  “How’s it going?”

  I think this is much more inspiring,” I tell her, nuzzling her neck.

  A laugh tumbles from her perfect mouth, floating on the cool breeze around us.

  “Behave, the children will be up soon, I don’t want them to see just how inspired their father really is this morning.”

  I kiss her long and deep, losing myself in the moment, breathing her in. I cherish each and every one with her, taking nothing for granted, knowing that life is far too short to waste on petty words.

  I show her every day what her love means to me.

  How it’s changed me.

  How it’s made me the man I am today.

  Things finally slowed down about a year and a half after we were married. Once my contract was up with Milestone, I retreated back to Grandeur permanently to start my life with Sylvie. I still performed at small venues, the Ryman, and Bluebird from time to time, but mostly I spent a lot of time writing in my home studio. I sold a lot of my songs to big names, several even topping the charts, but I held on to a precious few, saving them for when the time was right.

  Our daughters are older now. Stella will be ten in a few short months and our daughter Audrey will be five this winter, both of them just as beautiful as their mother and have me wrapped around their little fingers.

  Caroline is already talking about college and has a boyfriend, which gives me a mild heart attack every time I think about it. It’s unbelievable sometimes to think how much our family has grown. It’s tough being in a house full of strong, beautiful women but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I just need one more song and the album will be complete.”

  “Took you long enough,” she teases, the sunlight catching her blue eyes, making them sparkle. My chest floods with warmth. “So have you decided on a name?”

  “I think I’m gonna call it The Long Way Home.”

  “It’s perfect,” she says lovingly, pride shining in her eyes. “Think the world is ready for our story?” she asks.

  “A story like ours has to be told.”

  “But first, it has to be lived.” Her words strike deep inside my heart, in the place where only her love dwells.

  My lips take hers, the taste of forever potent on her tongue.

  I move to stand us up and take her hand while pulling her body flush with mine. Then I start to hum a familiar tune, one that has been the soundtrack of our life. The one that no matter how many times I sing it, or how much we hear it, it never gets old.

  Her body sways with mine in perfect harmony, a dance built with years of love and devotion.

  A dance only time can perfect.

  We have no idea what the future may hold, or where the road may take us, but we know we have each other and we have love.

  That will always be enough.

  The melody drifts over the crowd, anticipation simmering as I strum the opening chords of the song. There’s only one other place I’d rather be than on stage singing at the Ryman and that’s home with my family. I was reluctant to even come but Sylvie insisted, arguing that the baby isn’t due for another couple of weeks.

  I would never admit it out loud but a part of me is terrified. Not only for the well-being of my wife and unborn child, but of being a father. It’s a big responsibility and one I will not take lightly. The baby is not even here yet and my life has already changed monumentally.

  Every decision I make now is based on how it will affect my family.

  I just pray I make the right ones. My family means everything to me, and I don’t want to do anything to mess that up.

  Once I finish my set, I walk off stage only to be greeted by my assistant, Kacey, who is waiting for me in the wings, and judging by the look on her face, whatever she has to tell me is not good.

  “Sylvie’s water broke. They are taking her to the hospital.”

  “When?”

  “I just got off the phone with your mom. She’s on her way there now.”

  Handing Kacey my guitar, I take off in a sprint for the exit and pull out my cell phone, dialing Sylvie’s number.

  No answer.

  Fuck.

  I knew I shouldn’t have left her. My gut told me not to but she’d insisted. Hell, she’d practically packed my bag for me.

  My stomach twists at the thought of her having the baby without me there, causing even more dread to fester in my gut.

  On the way to the airport I manage to charter a plane and get ahold of my mother.

  “She’s fine. They are hooking her up to monitors now. Hang on and I’ll let you speak with her.”

  My heart slams in my chest, it isn’t until she comes on the line that I feel like I can breathe.

  “Hey,” she whispers.

  My chest floods with relief and I close my eyes. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “Nothing to worry about here. Jus
t having a baby, that’s all.” Her voice is light but I can hear the small tinge of worry.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have left.”

  “Don’t. I’m the one who insisted you go. Neither of us could have predicted this.”

  “Still doesn’t make me feel better. I hate that you’re at the hospital and I’m on this damn plane. I’ll be there in about three hours. Don’t have that baby without me.”

  She laughs, the sweet sound a balm I didn’t know I needed. “I won’t. Just get here when you can and be safe.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Two and half hours later I bust through the wooden doors of labor and delivery, skidding to a stop in front of the nurse’s station.

  A young blonde nurse smiles up at me, her eyes widening when she takes in my disheveled stated. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here for Sylvie Matthews. She’s my wife and she’s having my baby and I need to get to her,” I huff, trying to catch my breath.

  She taps a few keys on the keyboard and then buzzes me through another set of doors. “Room three zero six.”

  A small shred of hope unfurls in my gut as I race down the hall, scanning each door. It finally comes into view and I bolt through like a crazy man.

  Glancing around the room, I graze over my mother and Sylvie’s mother. And then my eyes land on her, my beautiful wife, and my body sags with relief. Her belly is still swollen with our child and the look on her face pulls me to her. She reaches out for me and I bury my face in her neck, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

  “You made it.”

  My hand covers her tight round belly, rubbing back and forth. “Back home, right where I belong.”

  Lifting my head, I find her smiling. Tears are rushing down her flushed cheeks; her hair is sweaty and a small chunk is plastered to the side of her face. She’s never looked more beautiful.

  She’s also never looked so exhausted, and I don’t miss the tight furrow of her brow or the sweat dotting her forehead.

  Then her face contorts in pain as a contraction slams into her. Her entire body goes rigid and she reaches for my hand, squeezing it with a physical strength I didn’t know she possessed.

  My wife is the strongest woman I know. Numerous times in our lives, she’s proven this fact over and over, and day after day she continues to amaze me, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment. To see her in pain like this fucking kills me.

  Clenching her jaw, Sylvie squeezes her eyes shut, riding through the wave of pain. I ache to absorb every ounce of it.

  “You’re doing so good, baby.” My words are meant to soothe and comfort her but they feel meager and weak.

  She remains silent, her single-minded focus not wavering in the least as she breathes through it. Once the contraction subsides, she lays her head back on the pillow, straining to collect her ragged breath.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I kiss her damp cheek. “You amaze me, fearless wife.”

  For the next three hours I don’t leave her side, coaching her through every contraction. They gave her an epidural about an hour ago and it’s helped a little but she’s still in a lot of pain.

  Both of our mothers went down for coffee so it’s just the two of us. I sit next to her bed, wiping her brow, offering words of encouragement when Sylvie’s face tightens in pain again, and I brace for another contraction only it never comes. The monitors in the room start going crazy and next thing I know the room is flooded with nurses.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, fighting for my spot next to her bed when a nurse tries to gently shove me out of the way.

  Dr. Foss rushes through the doors with a hurried grace. She looks at a few things on the monitor and then pokes around at Sylvie before turning to us. “The baby is showing signs of distress. We need to do an emergency C-section.”

  Sylvie’s face turns ashen and my heart slams into my chest.

  “Sir, I’m going to need you to step back while we prep her.”

  I keep Sylvie’s hand locked tight in mine. Panic rises in my throat. “No, I’m not leaving her side.”

  Sylvie squeezes my hand, and I hate that she’s trying to support me through this when I should be the one supporting her. “I’ll be okay,” Sylvie assures me, but I’m not so sure. I kiss my wife on her lips as the nurses frantically move around me.

  The nurse who gently tried to shove me out of the way is back and this time she isn’t giving in. “Sir, please.”

  I step back, allowing the nurses to take over as I watch from afar, my eyes locked on Sylvie’s. Our fear is palpable, an ominous truth that everything I love could be stripped away in a single moment. The flurry of movement sends dread sinking in my gut, and I send up a silent prayer.

  Please, God, don’t take them from me.

  Once they have her ready, they lift the sides of the bed and begin to roll her out. I move to follow but another nurse steps up and hands me a set of scrubs. “Put these on. I’ll be back to get you shortly.”

  I reach for Sylvie’s outstretched hand before they can roll her from the room, bringing the back of it to my lips. “I’ll be there soon, baby.”

  She nods, a single tear slipping from her cheek, and it takes everything I have to hold back my own. I want to fall to my knees right here on this floor.

  The door shuts and I waste no time pulling the scrubs on over my clothes and wait for the nurse to return. It’s the longest five minutes of my life and when she finally returns she leads me down a long hallway.

  “She’s right in here,” she says, holding open another door.

  Sylvie is lying on an operating table, a clear partition between her head and belly, but all I can see are the tears streaming down her temples.

  When she sees me, her eyes flood with relief. “Linc, I’m so scared.”

  I rush to her side, brushing the tears from her face. “Don’t be scared, baby. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Why is this happening?”

  “Baby, don’t you know, nothing comes easy for us. We have to fight for what we want every step of the way. Even the birth of our child. But that’s what we are, we’re fighters and we’re gonna win this battle.”

  “Mrs. Matthews, you’re going to feel a little tug and probably some pressure but you shouldn’t feel any pain,” the doctor says.

  Sylvie’s eyes widen. I can hear the doctor and nurses working but I keep my attention on my gorgeous wife. Leaning down, I kiss her trembling lips then her forehead.

  “I love you, Sylvie, so much.”

  She nods, squeezes her eyes shut, and pushes out another wave of tears.

  “Our baby is going to be okay, I promise you.”

  She nods again and this time the room fills with the best sound in the world. I stand up, looking over the partition just as the doctor raises our crying baby.

  “What is it?” Sylvie cries, grabbing for my hand.

  “Would you like to do the honors, Dad?”

  I nod and then lower my lips to Sylvie’s. “It’s a girl. You did it, sweetheart. We’ve got a beautiful baby girl.”

  Sylvie smiles through her tears. “It’s a girl?”

  Tears fill my eyes, pouring down my face unchecked. “She’s so beautiful, Syl. Just like you.”

  “Here you go, Dad.”

  I turn to find a blanketed bundle of joy being held out to me. With trembling hands, I reach for my baby girl. She’s still crying, but as soon as I get her settled in the crook of my arm, she quiets.

  One of the nurses slides a chair up, allowing me to sit next to Sylvie’s head. I lower the baby and Sylvie kisses her several times before looking up at me.

  “Look at all the hair,” she says, laughing when I twirl my finger through it, making it stick up in a wild mess. “And she’s got your eyes.”

  “Let’s just hope she gets everything else from her mother.” With my baby tucked to my side and my arm around Sylvie, my entire world shifts again.
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  This is the moment I’ve dreamt about for so long. Once we have Caroline next to us, my family will be complete. I’ve often wondered if it’s fair for a man to be this happy.

  Content.

  But then I look down at this woman and realize just how hard we’ve had to fight to get here. How much we’ve had to overcome. The roads that lead us here have been hard to navigate. We didn’t have a road map or a GPS telling us which way to turn or warn us of danger ahead. Yet we made it here anyway.

  To this remarkable place.

  Together.

  Love isn’t always easy.

  But it’s always worth it.

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  This story would have never been possible without the help of the amazing people in my life. When I first started writing this book (August 2014) I never anticipated it would take this shape. There was a time when I didn’t think I would ever be able to finish because some of the elements of this story were so personal to me, but Sylvie refused to lie wasted. She arose from the ashes and flew, teaching me that it’s okay to hurt.

  To let go.

  To heal.

  And to love.

  I hope that you are able to take something away from this story and if not, thank you for giving her a chance.

  Means everything to me.

  THANK YOU, READERS!

  To my husband, for always standing by me and supporting me.

  You pushed me to finish.

  You pushed me to be my best.

  I’m a better me because of you.

  I love you.

  Always.

  To KC, I don’t know what I would do without your endless words of encouragement and support. Every time I wanted to give up, you were always right there giving me the shove I needed to keep going. Thank you for always believing in me. And this story.

  To Kirby, I could not have finished this without you. Thank you for pushing me beyond my limits, cheering me on, and loving Sylvie as much as I do.

  To Alycia, thank you for always being Dean’s champion. For always reminding me just how vital his role was in this story. I love you dearly.

  To Heather, thank you for listening to me whine about this book and dragging me out of the house when I needed it the most. You keep me in check and I love you for it.