Out of breath, I jump back. “Fuck, you’re strong.”
She doesn’t move or say anything, just lies there with her back to me, her shoulders shaking.
“Frankie?”
That’s when I hear it. A soft sob that turns into a deep gut-wrenching howl.
“Baby?” I whisper as pain like I’ve never felt before cuts right to my fucking soul.
Fuck me. This is my fault. I did this to her.
My heart drops into the bottom of my stomach. I move back over to the bed and drop down on the mattress beside her. “Please don’t cry, babe. I’ll do anything,” I rasp, pulling her into my arms.
Frankie curls up in my lap as best she can with her hand cuffed to the bed and continues to cry. Her whole body shakes with the force of her grief, and I hold her tighter, pressing my face into her hair.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Tell me how to make it right. I’ll do anything to fix this.”
She only cries harder, her tears soaking through my shirt.
I rock her gently, one hand stroking her hair while the other rubs circles on her back. “I should have told you the truth from the beginning. About your father, about everything. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved better.”
Her sobs start to quiet, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I was scared,” I admit, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Never been more scared of anything. Scared that if you knew the truth, you’d hate me. That you’d leave, and I couldn’t fucking handle that because somewhere along the way, you became everything to me.”
I’m not sure how long we sit there, her crying in my arms, me whispering apologies and promises into her hair.
Eventually her tears slow, and she wipes her nose on my shirt, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
My eyes trace across her face, and I lift a hand, brushing the hair out of her face. “Even red-nosed and snotty, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry for everything. I love you, Frankie. I love you so fucking much.”
She whispers, “I love you too.”
A spark of hope blooms in my chest.
“But it’s not enough. Too much has happened. It’s too late.”
The air in my lungs stills. Her words are a shot right through my black fucking heart. I fucked everything up. I’m too late.
Ma’s words whisper in the recesses of my mind.
Don’t take no for an answer, son. Get your queen back.
No. I shake my head. Fuck that. Frankie belongs to me.
Growling, I fist her hair and crash my lips on hers. She shoves at my chest, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not now. Not ever. I’ll remind her that she’s mine, and I’m hers. I’ll prove to her that she’s my queen.
I flick my tongue across the seam of her lips, and by the grace of the Gods she opens for me, melting into the kiss. Our tongues duel for power, and I twist my body, shifting her beneath me on the bed as I drink from her mouth like a man dying of thirst.
Frankie puts up a fight for half a second before finally submitting. Thank fuck.
For the first time since she walked out, I feel a ray of hope that I can get us back to good.
She fists my hair and tugs hard, making me growl.
Fuck me, I love her.
