Strong arms wrapped around my waist, freeing me from my thoughts. I closed my eyes, leaning back into those arms. My head rested against the broad chest of Alex, my co-worker-turned-roommate-turned-boyfriend.
I lost Tessa as a roommate almost four months ago—in March—when she had received an offer to help out at the Parry Sound veterinary clinic as a part-time technician, and she took it. She knew it would take years to start up her own clinic, but she wanted a foot in the door at a clinic closer to Brock’s house.
Alex had moved in with me out of convenience—he’d been looking for a new place, and I’d been looking for a new roommate. We worked together and we got along as friends, so it made sense. I thought I could keep things strictly platonic between us.
But I didn’t count on Alex’s little crush on me growing, or me giving in to too many lonely nights by hiding out in his arms, letting him shelter me from the ache in my chest. Somewhere along the line, I found myself developing feelings for Alex, although those feelings constantly confused me.
I cared about him, but I also knew that his feelings for me ran deeper than my feelings for him did. It wasn’t that I didn’twantto fall in love with him—God, I did. I prayed every night that I’d fall in love with this man, but the truth was…I was holding myself back. I was afraid to fall in love, afraid to truly let myself go with him. I knew that Alex was good for me, and yet still…I hesitated.
I was irreparable. Shattered, destroyed. Changed by four not-so-little words: post-traumatic stress disorder.
I’d seen so much death, so much trauma. My doctors had a difficult time pinpointingexactlywhen it happened, when I mentally snapped. Maybe it started with the six vehicle accident nine months ago. Maybe it started when I had to comfort a little boy and clean away his deceased mother’s brain matter from his ghastly pale face after a drunk driver struck them head on. Maybe it started when we arrived on the scene of a woman who had been brutally raped and murdered in a hotel room.
Whenever it was, whatever straw broke this particular camel’s back—I couldn’t seem to escape. The smallest things during a shift would trigger my anxiety and panic attacks: the sound of the ambulance sirens, the smell of blood-tinged asphalt, even the dispatch radio.
Thus, I was about to start my not-so-temporary ‘vacation’, or rather—medical leave of absence. I suppose I had my boss and the assistance of my doctor to thank. I wasn’t exactly stoked about it, but as pissed off as I was…they had a point. I was no good on the team right now. I wasn’t helpful, and if anything, I put my teammate—Alex—in more danger.
“You need this break, Elle. It’s going to be alright,” he whispered against my ear. His lips brushed against my lobe. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I said, turning into his embrace.
He smiled warmly, his large, capable hands running up and down my upper arms. His touch eased my frazzled nerves. It calmed me and centred me. It soothed me. I knew with him that I was safe, and sometimes—that drove me completely insane.
Everything about Alex was safe. He was gentle, dependable, kind, attentive, considerate, and hard working. He was empathetic and understanding. He always put his dirty clothes in the hamper and he was the tidiest person I knew.
I had been placed on Alex’s paramedic team shortly after graduating my program at Georgian College two years ago. He’d been working for five years already, and knew the drill. We’d instantly connected—he was easy to get along with and easy to work with. He was steady in chaos and tragedy and I learned a lot from him.
Except—it would seem—how to not let the job destroy my mentality.
Still, Alex had been everything that I hadn’t known I needed. We’d only lived together for two months and had been an item for even less time than that, but Alex never wavered from my side. He didn’t run when the doctors told me my sleepless nights, uncontrollable anxiety and frequent panic attacks on the job were caused by post-traumatic stress disorder.
But even after all that time with him prior to becoming official, even after how incredible he’d been during my diagnosis…I still didn’t feel it in my bones.
And if I was being perfectly honest…I still hadn’t been able to free the chains around my heart, left there by someone I wished would stay in the past.Thattraumatic incident—having my heart ripped out and shredded to pieces—also played on a constant loop in my mind.
“Well, I better go,” I sighed, leaning closer against his chest. I was reluctant to leave, reluctant to face the shadows of my heart once again. I was afraid to see Braden Miller in what I perceived was a weakened mental state. I was terrified that seeing him again would only solidify all the things I knew in my heart I was missing.
“I love you, Elle,” Alex said, framing my face with his hands.
My words got caught in my throat, and I gaped at him, unable to utter the words back. This was the first time he’d said it, and it caught me completely off guard. It seemed too soon...too wrong. He didn’t seem to mind my silence. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me tenderly.
Alex knew that I was guarding my heart, he knew why, and he was patiently waiting for the day I’d let him in. But he never pushed; he never made demands of me. He never fought—not with me, not with the ghosts of my past. Sometimes, I hated that. I wanted him to fight.
I kissed him back, responding physically in the ways I couldn’t emotionally. I arched my body against him, feeling his erection pressing against my pelvis. He groaned, pulling me closer to him. “Do you have to leave right now?” he murmured, his eyes roaming my face.
A soft sigh escaped my lips. Alex forever sought permission. He didn’t let himself get possessed with desire. He didn’t ever take me roughly, caught in the throes of passion. He was steady and calm, even with his love making. That wasn’t to say he was a bad lover—he was very attentive, but if I wanted spontaneous, I had to take the lead.
“Mom’s expecting me for lunch,” I responded, turning away from him to finish zipping up my suitcase. I willed him to grab me, to press himself against me and make his desire for me known, but Alex was respectful. He would never want to make me late for an engagement. But maybe it was for the best, I was still reeling from his confession.
“Okay,” he said, reaching around me to grab my suitcase and carry it out to my car. I popped the trunk open and he set it in before he walked back over to me. He kissed me briefly, giving me a slow smile. “Call me when you get there?”
“I will,” I told him, my lips brushing against his one final time before I climbed in behind the wheel. The moment I pulled away, I felt relief wash over me—and that relief made me feel guilty.
The drive from Barrie to Parry Sound took the usual hour and twenty minutes. An hour and twenty minutes that I tried to fill with music and excitement for my best friend, Tessa’s, upcoming wedding, and not the tormented thoughts of who would also be in attendance…
Braden Miller.
The truth was, ever since Tessa had announced her engagement to Braden’s older brother, I’d been thinking a lot about him.
