“Scoot over.”
I give Axel room to crawl in beside me. He stays on his side, dutiful and quiet, but his steady presence calms me.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” I whisper into the dark.
“I’d wake up every night if it meant chasing your nightmares away.”
I don’t respond, because what could I possibly say to that? Axel always knows the exact right thing, and he says it without expectation. His heart is so big, so unguarded, it terrifies me a little. If I thought I were capable of loving someone, really loving someone, it would be him. But I’m still too damaged to offer that kind of love to anyone. He deserves so much more than the broken pieces I have to give.
We lie in silence, but I know he’s still awake. His breathing is too focused, too careful.
“Hey, Princess?” His voice is soft.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t mean to pry, but... it’s bothering me.”
I turn toward him. Even in the dark, I can see the question in his eyes.
“You were saying Joe’s name in your sleep. Crying.” He pauses. “Is he the one that hurt you?”
The question hangs there like smoke. I reach out and find his hand in the sheets, needing the contact while I decide what to say.
“Yes,” I finally whisper. “He hurt me constantly. It started with him hitting my mom, but when that wasn’t enough, he turned on me. Sometimes he’d wait up for me to come home. Other times, he’d wake me in the middle of the night just to remind me I was powerless. But he was smart. Never where people could see. Always just enough pressure to hurt without leaving marks. And even when he slipped up and did bruise us, no one questioned the beloved sheriff. Ironically, he arrested men for the same things he did to us almost every day.”
Axel squeezes my hand. His grip grounding.
“I’m so sorry, Lina. I can’t pretend to understand what that was like. But if you ever need someone to talk to, or just someone to sit in the dark with, I’m here. Always. I’ll keep yoursecrets. No judgment. No questions you don’t want to answer.”
“I know. Thank you,” I murmur.
Sleep pulls at me again. I should send him back to his room, but selfishly, I don’t want him to go. He offered to chase the nightmares away, and I want him to.
“Love you, Lina,” he whispers after a moment.
“Love you, too,” I whisper back, a small smile tugging at my lips. It’s not romantic. Not yet. It’s the kind of love born from surviving something hard together. A quiet promise in the dark. In that moment, I want nothing more than for Axel to always be part of my life. Whatever shape that takes.
Chapter 28
“Okay, we’re going to slowly add two cups of flour to the wet ingredients as they mix,” Maryanne says patiently.
It’s Thanksgiving, and in the spirit of family, I volunteered to help her prepare the meal. In hindsight, I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t cook. Like,at all.
She scoops a cup of flour from the bag and demonstrates how to add it to the mixer, just a little at a time, so it fully incorporates with the wet ingredients before adding more.
“Alright, I got it,” I say, extending grabby hands for the measuring cup.
“Are you sure?” she asks, raising it just out of reach.
That’s fair. More than once today, I’ve said, “I got it,” when I most definitely didnothave it.
“Look, I’m sorry about the thing with the carrots,” I say, genuinely. “But I promise I can do this.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she hands it over anyway, because she’s Maryanne, and she’s far too nice. She really should have kicked me out of the kitchen hours ago.
I try to follow her directions. Really, I do. But about halfway through, I get bored and dump in more flour than I should. A cloud of white powder puffs up into my face, and I double over coughing like I’ve just been tear-gassed by Pillsbury.
“Lina!” Maryanne scolds. “What did I say about adding itslowly?”
