Blake is dead to me. His shadow purged. But the fire he left in me for her uncontrollable, relentless, all-consuming burns hotter than anything else I’ve ever known. And I will let it. Because she deserves nothing less than the full force of me.
I press my lips once more to the crown of her head, whispering softly, though she cannot hear:
You are mine, Peach. Every piece. Every heartbeat. Every breath. And I will make you feel it, every second of every day.
It felt like days had passed by when I woke. Hot, sticky, and encased in blankets, arms, and legs. His limbs, Dane’s limbs. He stayed. He didn’t leave. Rolling over inside his embrace, I watch him sleep. Lines etched on his forehead, too much worry locked in his head, causing small lines to trickle out over his olive skin. He feels familiar to me. As I watch him, I trace my index finger through the air, hovering over his features, tracing his outline.
As I lie here, hiding and watching him sleep, I wonder what he dreams of inside that head of his. My finger shakes as I chase his beauty through the air around us, travelling slowly enough to burn each line, mark, and mole into my memory. I don’t know how long I will have him here because all I do is chase the ghost of a man who doesn’t even notice. I miss him even after all the hurt. I chase him at night when it’s so still and quiet. I know I should chase Dane; my core conjures thoughts that bubble up through my soul, sending my mind small tapestries of him andme and what life could be if I allowed him to hang my scars inside his gallery of artistry.
He tells me I can be anything with him. Another person has kept my heart inside them, leaving my voice inside a closed cage where I can’t seem to find the key to share it all with him and start a new world. I don’t know how to be more than I am. I hope that if I stay here long enough, he will see that the sacrifices he makes for my broken soul will one day be worth it, if I can find the strength to overcome the invisible barrier in my mind.
Dane begins to stir slowly waking up. His eyes flutter open, and he catches me staring at him. Embarrassed, I look down, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. He smiles gently and reaches up to touch my face, his fingers brushing against my skin.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Peach,” he says softly, trying to pry my hands away from my face.
I shake my head, whispering, “No, no, don’t.” But he laughs a little, a warm, comforting sound.
“Please, let me see you,” he coaxes, his voice soothing. Slowly, I lower my hands and peek out at him. His gaze is tender, filled with understanding and a depth of feeling that makes my heart ache.
In that moment, everything feels raw and real. I can see the love in his eyes, the acceptance, and it makes me feel both exposed and cherished. For the first time, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I can heal.
“Get dressed, Peach,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “I’m going to take you out for breakfast and a day away from this house and the memories."
Looking at him, I could feel the excitement lighting up in my eyes. “Really?” I ask him, a sweet smile spreading across my face.
“Really,” he replies, chuckling as he watches my reaction. “But first, we need to get out of bed.”
He moves to pull me up, his hands moving to my sides, tickling me lightly. I couldn’t help it, I squirmed and giggled, trying to escape his playful grasp. We fell into light laughter, our intertwined lightness filling the room and chasing away the lingering shadows of the past.
We roll in the sheets and Dane’s fingers graze my collarbone.
A single touch, barely anything, and my whole body goes rigid.
My heart slams against my ribs like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. I hate that reaction. I hate that Blake trained it into me, made intimacy feel like a performance instead of a connection. I’ve only ever been with one man. One boy who grew into a man who moulded me into what he wanted. So, Dane’s touch feels…new. Unfamiliar. Terrifying. Exciting. Like stepping into sunlight after years in the shade. He feels the shift instantly. He always does. Dane pulls back so fast it almost hurts. His eyes widen, soft with concern.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shy and sincere in a way that guts me.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Before I can say anything, he rolls away, gets out of bed, reaching for his jeans like he’s trying to give me a whole continent of space. And God—my chest aches watching him. He’s trying so fucking hard. Gentle where Blake was entitled. Considerate where Blake was controlling. I sit up, drowning in my oversized t-shirt, hair a wild lion’s mane around my face. I drag my fingers through it, like that will somehow make me look less frazzled, less breakable. Dane turns, eyes catching on me like I’m something he’s scared to look at for too long in case I disappear. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, voice warm and painfully honest. “Even withbedhead.” A laugh spills out of me, light, real, something I barely recognize as mine.
“Even with bed hair?” I tease. “Thanks.” My cheeks burn as I add, “You don’t look too bad yourself.” He grins, messy hair, sleepy eyes, built like temptation.
“Well, I try,” he says, giving me a wink that makes something low in my stomach flutter. I stand, suddenly feeling weightless, like maybe last night didn’t ruin me, like maybe I’m not as broken as I thought.
“Okay, let me get ready,” I say, heading to the bathroom. “But you’d better be ready to explain why you came prepared with an overnight bag.” He laughs, nervous, awkward, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I was, um… hit…uh, away.”
“Away?” I echo, raising a brow. “Where?” “You know. Business.” The hesitation in his voice punches straight through me.
Everything has been twisting, shifting, unravelling so fast lately. I feel like I’m constantly playing catch-up, constantly bracing for the next hit. But I push it aside. Focus on the now. Focus on breathing. I brush my hair. Wash my face. Add a hint of makeup nothing fancy, just enough to feel like I’m choosing myself today. Staring into the mirror, I whisper to my reflection:New day. Try again.When I step back into the room, Dane’s still watching me from the bed. His eyes track me like he’s memorising everything, the way I move, breathe, exist. It should feel suffocating. Instead, it feels like being seen for the first time. He pulls himself together, clothes on, overnight bag sitting at his feet like an unspoken secret.
“So,” I ask, leaning on the doorway, “what’s the plan for today?” A soft smile pulls at his lips as he stands and walks toward me.
“You’ll see,” he murmurs, taking my hand and tugging me close, our chests brushing. “I just want to spend the day with you. Away from everything. Away from the stress. From the memories. Just… you and me. Okay?”
Warmth bursts inside me like a match struck in the dark. “Okay,” I breathe, smiling before I can stop myself. We head outside, and I freeze when I see the car waiting in the driveway. “You… have a driver?” I ask, eyes widening. He chuckles softly.
“Yeah. Figured it’d be easier.” His gaze flicks to me, searching, worried, hopeful. His teeth catch his bottom lip, a nervous habit I shouldn’t find as ridiculously attractive as I do. “I’ll explain everything,” he says quietly. “I promise.” And something in me, something small and guarded and wounded, shifts. Because for the first time in a long time…I believe him.
