“You don’t have to...”
“It’s fine. You take the bed.”
There was no argument in his voice, no pushback. He was giving me space, the same way he’d been giving me space for two days.
I hated it. But I had no idea how to fix it yet, no idea what to say. So I just nodded and watched him arrange blankets on the floor with military precision, creating a makeshift bed that looked significantly less comfortable than the actual bed sitting empty behind us.
This was stupid. We were both being stupid. But apparently being stupid was my specialty lately.
We got ready for bed in awkward silence. I used the bathroom first, changed into the oversized t-shirt I’d packed, brushed my teeth. When I came out, he was already on the floor, eyes closed. Pretending to sleep, probably. Giving me privacy I didn’t want.
I climbed into bed. The sheets were soft. The pillow was comfortable. Everything was fine.
Except I couldn’t sleep.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of him on the floor below. His breathing, his presence, the steady pulse of the bond between us.
After what seemed an eternity, I rolled over and peeked over the side of the bed. He was staring back at me. His gray eyes caught the moonlight from the window, and a wall inside me crumbled.
I let my hand dangle down, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
My fingers found his face, following the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to my palm.
“I miss you,” I whispered.
“I’m right here.”
“You know what I mean.” I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. For blaming you. For pushing you away. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Riley...”
“I was scared. And confused. And it was easier to be angry at you than to deal with everything else. But that wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.”
He was quiet for a beat. His emotions shifted, washing over me. Relief, longing, love. So much love it almost hurt.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, voice rough. “So damn much.”
“I know.”
“I would have waited forever. However long it took for you to be ready.”
“I know that too.” I stroked his cheek. “I’m ready now. Come here.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Caelan was on the bed in seconds, not climbing but launching. One moment he was on the floor, the next he was beside me, around me, everywhere at once. His arms wrapped around my body and he pulled me flush against him, starving for contact.
I had been too.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, burying my face in his chest.
“Stop apologizing.” His voice was rough, muffled against my hair. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Even when I’m being unreasonable?”
“Especially then.” He drew back just enough to look at my face. His eyes were glowing faintly amber in the darkness. “You’re my mate, my wife, my everything. There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”
