Nick
We didn't makeit to the bakery. Erin fell asleep before we exited the hospital's parking garage, and she stayed asleep while I drove us through the city to my Beacon Hill neighborhood. She barely stirred as I carried her into my apartment and tucked her into my bed. For a moment, I stood there, watching the breaths move through her chest.
Then I stripped down and snuggled in beside her. My skin hummed when it connected with hers, warming through and feeling alive for the first time in weeks.
We slept all day, waking only when raindrops started pelting my windows. It was dark outside, the type of disorientating wintertime dark that could be early morning or evening. I sat up, blinking, upside down in this day.
"It's weird, right?" Erin asked. Creases lined her face and her eyes were still red and puffy. "Sleeping together, I mean. Without the sex."
"Why is that weird?" I asked. "Our relationship isn't based on sex. It's just one of the perks."
Her lips pursed in a small pout and she nodded before kicking off the blankets. She pushed up from the mattress and headed into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her. It gave me a moment to check my phone and pager. I'd been lucky to have the day off and even luckier that I hadn't been called in.
The bathroom door opened, and Erin leaned against the jamb, pointing to my devices. She was only wearing a t-shirt and panties, the most perfect combination ever, and I grinned at her pale, freckled legs. "Do you need to go?"
"Nope," I said, showing her the blank screens. "The city must know that my wife is home, and I need to stay right here all night."
"So that's it?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Everything's fine, all's forgotten? I mean, a whole bunch of your demands were met today. You've gotta be happy about that."
She was too far away. I needed her here for this, with me, as close as we could get. "Come over here, darlin'," I said, reaching for her. "Don't keep yourself away from me. I want to hold you and appreciate you, and say all the things I won't put in emails."
She pushed off from the door, marching toward her backpack in the corner. She riffled through it, pulling things out and shoving them back in until she found a pair of yoga pants. Facing the wall, she stepped into them and said, "Today has been overwhelming."
"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," I said.
Erin laughed, and turned to face me. "I've worked really hard to feel good about myself," she said. She brought her palm to her chest and patted her clavicle. "I went away because I needed room to breathe and distance to feel safe, and most of the time now, I do. I stayed away because I didn't know how to fix any of the things I broke, and I'm better at keeping people at a distance than letting them in."
"You let me in," I said.
"That's because you let me babble about philosophical geology," she said. She dragged her fingers through her hair, gathering the strands into a bun and then letting them fall. "I shut you out. Since Cozumel, I've shut you out. I read all of your emails, but I didn't respond to any of them. I never know how to fix things, Nick."
I shook my head and reached for her again. She edged closer, one step at a time until she was standing between my knees. "There's nothing you can't fix, Skip," I said, placing my hands on her hips. "Just look at all the things you've done in the past twenty-four hours."
Her fingers passed over my beard. If I was looking for proof that the world worked in mysterious ways, I'd point to this beard. It was a product of my post-Cozumel depression, but every time Erin looked at it, all I could see were her fuck-drunk eyes.
"I could break them all over again," she said. "I could shut you out, too."
"I won't let you," I said. "You think you live dangerously? You squeeze the life out of every minute? Then do something really dangerous. Stop running away from things that scare you. Let your family love you. Letmelove you."
"You don't even know what scares me," she snapped. She was hurt, and I'd been the one to hurt her. Now she wanted nothing more than to yank out her emotions like the vestigial organs they were, toss them at me, and gird herself against any further heartache.
"Then tell me," I said, gripping her waist. "Give it all to me."
Erin looked away, shaking her head as if she'd already determined that I couldn't handle her. But then she sucked in a breath and balled her fists in my t-shirt. "I can't erase my history," she said. "I will always be the girl who was abused, who cut herself, who tried to kill herself, who had sex with more men than she can remember because she needed to feel wanted, even if it was awful and degrading. Who fucked up everything. You can't erase that either."
My jaw tightened as I blinked up at her. The strength and control that it required to absorb those words without recoiling in rage was significant. "I am in love with your scars," I said, bringing her wrist to my lips. "I hate that you have them. I hate that you endured a single second of that. But you fought like hell and you survived."
Her palm moved to my cheek, and I leaned into her touch. Minutes passed where I toggled between believing she was finding the words to tell me it was over and asking whether there was enough room in my apartment for all of her books. For the record, we'd need another apartment exclusively for her books.
Eventually she said, "I have to finish my work in Iceland, and the program at Oxford. I have to do that, Nick."
"I know," I said, easing up her shirt to kiss her belly.
"I need to think," she whispered, "about what comes after that."
"Stay," I said, pointing to the floor between us. "Stay for the holiday, with me, with all of us, and then decide what you want. I dare you."
Chapter Thirty-Four
