Standing with her hands clutched in front of her, she didn’t look like the tough chick I’d fallen for over a month ago.
I took two steps forward, clearing my throat, and waited for her eyes to meet mine.
God, she was beautiful.
The sun streamed through the windows, lighting her outline and making it look as if she were glowing.
Her head rose slowly, and she met my gaze. Across the room, I could see the tears start to form and spill down her cheeks.
“Let’s leave these two kids alone,” Auntie Mar said, pulling my ma toward the doorway. “They can handle things on their own.”
“Race,” I called out, stepping toward her.
“Morgan,” she whispered as her bottom lip trembled.
She leaped into my arms.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her body against mine and burying my face in her hair. She smelled just as I remembered.
“I’ve been worried about you, princess.” I breathed, inhaling her sweetness.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she wrapped her legs around my back and rested her forehead against my chin. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m so happy that you’re here. Nothing else matters.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. Then started to sob, shaking in my arms.
“Baby,” I whispered. “Shh. Don’t cry.” I carried her to the couch, placed her in my lap, and cradled her.
“I shouldn’t have ignored you.” Her arm wrapped around my neck and she nuzzled into my skin. “I’ve been a horrible person.”
“Come on now. Stop that. You’re here now. I have you. You’re mine, Race.” I leaned back, taking her with me.
“I know. I’ve been so selfish.” She sobbed, tears landing on my shirt as she cried.
“Race,” I whispered, rocking back and forth, trying to comfort us both. I let her cry and held her tight. I didn’t care about the tears or the fact that she’d used my T-shirt as a Kleenex. I was just happy to have her in my arms.
When she stopped, she pushed herself up, using my chest as leverage. “Can you forgive me?”
I stroked her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “For what?”
“For ignoring you. You saved me and—”
I pressed my finger against her lip. “Don’t say it. It’s in the past. What’s done is done.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my index finger.
There’s my girl.
Race was here. She was safe, and she was in my arms.
“Are you okay?
She nodded, giving me a small flicker of a smile. “I don’t want you to see my body again.”
I frowned as I stared into her eyes. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
She nodded again, looking at me from under her eyelashes. “I look like a monster,” she said. Then she whimpered.
