It does. That's the terrifying part. It feels so right it scares me, because the last time something felt right it ended with me broken and running for my life.
"I've gotten better," I whisper, staring down at our joined hands. "I haven't had a panic attack in days. The nightmares are less frequent. I'm sleeping better. But what if it happens again? What if I fall apart at the worst possible moment? What if I'm not strong enough for this?"
Wyatt's other hand comes up to cup my face, gently tilting my head up until I'm forced to meet his eyes. "One step at a time, sunshine. That's all we're asking for. One step at a time." He pauses, his blue eyes searching my face. "Do you even want this? Or are you trying for me, for us, because you think you should?"
The question makes me freeze. I bite my lip, my hands fidgeting in my lap, twisting and untwisting the fabric of my shirt. "There's just so many things you don't know. About me, about what happened with Vincent, about all the ways I'm messed up. You wouldn't like it if you knew everything. I don't even know how Dylan handles it sometimes."
"Do you think we couldn't handle it?" Wyatt's voice is gentle but there's steel underneath. "Do you think we're so fragile that we'd run the moment things got difficult?"
I look up at him, tears already gathering in my eyes. "I feel like you just wouldn't like me that way if you knew. Wouldn't want me."
"In what way?" He's searching my face, trying to understand.
"Broken." The word comes out as barely more than a whisper, but it lands between us like a stone. "I'm broken, Wyatt. Vincent broke me and I'm trying to put myself back together but what if I can't? What if this is just who I am now and it's not enough?"
"Please tell me I can hold you right now, Amelia." His voice cracks on my name, emotion bleeding through his careful control. "Please."
I nod slowly, not trusting my voice, and he immediately pulls me into his chest, one arm wrapping around my waist while his other hand cradles the back of my head. He shifts until I'm in his lap, tucked against him like something precious, and I let myself break.
"You're not broken," he murmurs against my hair, his voice fierce and certain. "Rattled, maybe. Hurt. Learning to trust again. But not broken. You're so beautiful, Amelia. And you'reso good with the kids. And your smile is like sunshine when you're truly having fun, when you forget to be scared and just let yourself be happy."
A sob escapes me, my hands fisting in his shirt. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to let myself want things without being terrified they'll be taken away."
Wyatt pulls back just enough to cup my face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Then let me show you." He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away, and presses his lips to mine in a kiss so soft and sweet it makes my chest ache.
It's different from Silas' kiss this morning. Where Silas was gentle but intense, Wyatt is pure tenderness. He kisses me like I'm something fragile and precious, like he has all the time in the world and nowhere else he'd rather be. When he finally pulls back, I'm breathless and crying and feeling things I thought Vincent had beaten out of me.
"I want to try, okay?" Wyatt says, still brushing away my tears with his thumbs. "I want to court you properly. Take you on dates, bring you gifts, show you that this is real and you're safe and we're not going anywhere."
"Why would you..." I start, but he shakes his head.
"Stop thinking of yourself as less or unworthy or any of those nasty thoughts in your head." His voice is firm now, brooking no argument. "I want you because I do. Because you're you. Because you came in here and started putting us back together without even knowing it. I want all the stolen kisses and the moments you walk into my arms or choose to crawl into my lap during movie night. I want those knowing smiles and those soft sounds you make when you're content. I want all of it, Amelia. Will you let me have it?"
My throat is too tight to speak, so I just nod, fresh tears spilling over. Wyatt kisses me again, slower this time, deeper,pouring everything he feels into the press of his lips against mine. When we break apart, I'm shaking but it's not from fear. It's from the overwhelming rush of feeling safe, wanted, chosen.
"This goes as fast as you want it, sunshine," he promises, pulling me back against his chest. "We follow your lead. If you need to slow down, we slow down. If you need space, we give you space. But I'm not going anywhere, and neither are Hunter and Silas. We're in this, if you'll let us be."
I let out a soft giggle, the sound watery but genuine, and press my face into his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, grounding me, reminding me that this is real. That I'm safe here.
"I'm also looking forward to far more cuddles, Amelia," he adds, his voice lighter now, teasing. "This? Right here? This is my new favorite thing."
Heat floods my face and I can feel myself blushing against his chest. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm serious. Look at you, all soft and warm in my lap. This is perfect. I could stay like this all day."
"The kids are going to come back downstairs eventually," I point out, but I don't make any move to get up.
"Let them. They should see that you're part of this family. That you're not going anywhere." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "That Raven was wrong about everything."
Dylan
The rhythmic clacking of keyboards and the low hum of conversations fill the office at the military base, the usual soundtrack to my workday. I'm deep into reviewing personnel files when my phone starts ringing from inside my bag, the ringtone some generic melody that I definitely didn't set. I frown, reaching for my bag, but Hunter beats me to it.
He's crossing the open office space with his usual purposeful stride, my phone already in his hand by the time he reaches my desk. His eyebrows are raised, a smirk playing at the cornersof his mouth as he holds up the device. The case is bright pink with little flowers on it, completely incongruous with everything about me.
"I was unaware you were a fan of pink," Hunter drawls, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he hands it over.
I grimace, snatching the phone from his hand. "Fuck, I thought I turned the service off on that phone."
