“Apparently they both saw through our act from the beginning. They’ve just been taunting us. That massage offer? They were expecting us to turn it down.”
I stare at him open-mouthed for a second before laughing. “Oh my God. Well, they definitely underestimated how competitive we are.”
He grins back at me. “Yes, they did.”
“We have dinner with her and the others tonight. That will be… interesting,” I say.
“I think they’ll be happy for us,” he says. His hand is still in my hair, brushing through it with reverence.
“And all your friends, too. They were so nice to me, and they still think we don’t like each other.” I cover my face with a hand. “Your sister is so nice. Amber is, too. I might poach them both. Is that okay?”
“You’re my family,” he says, and circles his fingers around my wrist to pull it away. “You can’t poach what’s already yours.”
I have to blink a few times. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like I’ve belonged anywhere. He just looks at me like he understands, and there’s no tightness in my chest. The lightness remains.
“Thank you for the watch you gave me,” I finally say. “I don’t think I thanked you properly at the time.”
“You were half delirious with fever,” he says. “And very honest.”
“I was? I don’t remember…”
His lips curve. “No. You wouldn’t. But it was the firstindication I had that maybe you were feeling the same things I was.”
“Oh.”
“And the watch… I ordered the design in denial of what it would mean. What you meant to me.”
“We’re not in denial now,” I say.
He shakes his head slowly. “No, those days are well and truly over, Paige. No lies between us now. We can still play games…”
“We’re good at those,” I say, and reach down to brush over his stomach.
“Very. But you and I?”
“Same team,” I murmur. It feels strange, all this closeness. Strange in how new it is and amazing in how good it feels. I’m on the precipice of something I’ve never experienced before. And it doesn’t make me want to run.
I lie back down on his chest and let my fingers trace the scar on his torso. “I have a husband.”
He chuckles. “Yes. You have for months.”
“But it feels different now. I have ahusband, Rafe.”
His smile is so warm it’s like the sunshine outside. “Yes, you do, darling. And I have a wife.” He brushes my hair back, eyes still watching me. Like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever had.
Basking in this bliss doesn’t entirely erase what he told me last night. The pained confession. I don’t believe that he has let go of all of it in the span of one night. He might have tabled those emotions, but…
He has so much survivors guilt, he’s drowning in it, and it’s not something I can kiss away. Not something I can love him out of.
“I think both of us need help,” I say.
His smile softens, and his eyes land on my ear. He runs a finger along the outer rim. “I know.”
“We can help each other,” I say. “With… with all of it. But we should also find therapists or experts.”
My grief and my panic attacks. His grief and his guilt.
He nods. “What happened yesterday won’t happen again. Not when I can see how much it hurts you.”
