“No, it’s fine.” She gets up quickly, stacking plates, flustered. “I should’ve checked. I should’ve—”
I catch her hands mid-motion. “Eden. Stop.” I stand and pull her gently toward me, her small, brittle frame folding into my chest. “It was a nice idea,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
Her shoulders begin to shake. And then she’s crying.Again.My heart twists painfully. I lift her chin with two fingers, brushing my thumbs across her tear-streaked cheeks.“Talk to me, Queenie,” I whisper. “Whatever this is, it’s eating you alive. You can tell me anything.”
I kiss the tip of her nose gently, hoping it’ll calm her.
“I love you so much,” she whispers, voice trembling. “So much.”
“I love you too.”
Then she reaches for me suddenly, her arms circling around my neck, and her mouth on mine, kissing me with a desperation that knocks the air from my lungs. Her fingers drag through my hair like she’s holding on for dear life.
But all I feel is dread.
I pull back, frowning. “No. We’re not doing this again.”
“I want to,” she insists, nodding quickly, almost frantically. “I want to this time.”
“Yousaidyou wanted to last time,” I snap, my voice cracking. “And then you spent the night on the bathroom floor sobbing your heart out, while I sat outside the door feeling like the biggest arsehole alive.”
“Please,” she whispers.
I shake my head, fear and confusion swirling. “Eden, I don’t know what’s happening to you. But I’m not going through that again.”
“I just want us to get back to where we were. I want this.” She throws herself at me again, and I let her, holding her by the waist warily. She rubs my erection through my jeans, eventually loosening my belt and freeing me. She turns away, lifting her dress. I frown. This doesn’t feel good. “Eden––” I begin.
She bends over the roof edge and looks back at me over her shoulder “I want to,” she repeats. “Please, Kade.”
EDEN
Fern was right. I need to get us back on track. I need to make things normal again. The dinner, this moment—every bit of it is me trying to claw my way back to the life I had before everything fell apart.
I stare out over the city from the rooftop The tiny people rushing below, all of them going somewhere, belonging somewhere. People with families waiting… with homes that don’t feel broken.
Kade’s hands tighten gently at my waist, grounding me.
“Are you—” he starts for the third time.
I roll my eyes, forcing irritation to hide the terror lodged in my throat. “I’msure,” I snap. “Just, please stop asking and let’s do this.”
His brows pull together, but he nods, stepping closer. I brace myself, digging my nails into the rough brick wall, focusing on the sting in my fingertips instead of the panic clawing up my chest.
The contact is immediate and it’s wrong. My whole body flinches. A small cry escapes before I can swallow it down.
Kade freezes. “Queenie—hey—are you okay?”
I nod too quickly. “Yeah. Yes. Keep going.”
He hesitates, moving slowly, cautiously, watching me like I’m made of glass. He’s waiting for me to fall apart again, bracing for it.
I force myself to breathe through it. To stay present. To keep from slipping into the dark place where everything still hurts.
I make the right noises. Soft sounds, the ones I know he expects, the ones that reassure him.
Something inside me twists painfully. I’m performing for my own boyfriend.
But it works. It lets him relax. Lets him believe this is okay, that we’re okay.
