Finally, he rolls away from me to climb from bed. I watch as he walks to the window, where he lifts one blind. The pale moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders and lean, naked torso. I usually love the sight of him naked, but tonight it fills me with fear. What if I lose him?

“What are you doing?” I ask as he steps into a pair of boxers.

“I’m going downstairs.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“What will you do?”

“Read. Work.”

I sit higher up in bed. “It’s almost one-thirty.”

“I know, but I won’t be able to sleep.” Then he leaves.

Chapter Three

After Nathan goes downstairs, I lie in bed and practice breathing, the way I learned in yoga. But it’s hard to calm myself. My chest squeezes tight. I’m worried, too. Nathan’s different. He’s changing. We’re changing.

Breathe, I tell myself. Just concentrate on your breathing.

But even as I breathe in and out, I feel the panic build inside of me. I’m too damn busy lately. I’m juggling too many balls. I shouldn’t have agreed to co-chair the school auction this year. I barely got through last year in one piece, and last year I was only the silent auction procurer chair.

It’s going to be fine, I repeat. Nathan and I have just hit a little rough patch. That’s normal, it happens to all couples, even couples like us.

Maybe that’s why I’m panicking.

Nathan and I never used to have problems. Nathan has been my godsend.

Life before Nathan was a bitch. I might look like All That now, but it’s something I’ve worked for, something I still work for, and I can’t imagine my life without him.

Truthfully, I never thought my life would turn out like this. Growing up was a nightmare—you don’t want to know all the sordid details—but despite the disaster at home, I excelled in school.

I did the whole cheerleader/homecoming court/student body thing in high school before spending four years as an Alpha Beta Pi at USC.

I first met Nathan (Nathan Charles Young III) while we were both undergrads when we were set up for a fraternity/sorority dance. I was a sophomore and he was a fifth-year senior, as he’d redshirted for the football team. Move ahead sixteen years and you have us today living in our lovely home in the Pacific Northwest with three gorgeous girls—ten-year-old Jemma, seven-year-old Brooke, and four-year-old Tori.

Despite once having an interesting career in PR and communications, I’m now a full-time mom by choice. Nathan and I agreed from the beginning that I’d stay home with the children. He was making great money in his career, and we didn’t want our children raised by anyone else.

I wanted to be the kind of mother my own mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, be. Room mom, PTA president, office volunteer. Of course, there are days when I long for some peace and a less structured life, but for the most part I have no regrets. I like the power.