This was him becoming more than just a Hawk.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
I pooled to the floor in a nightgown I didn’t remember him dressing me in, and wrapped myself around his quaking body. “It’s alright.” I rested my forehead on his temple, running my fingers through his hair.
He tried to pull away; he tried to stop his tears, but nothing could stop this.
He was utterly ruined.
Hanging his head, his shoulders quaked as silent tears erupted from his beautiful golden eyes. My stomach twisted as the man I loved came completely undone.
I didn’t let him grieve on his own. I willed him to feel how much I cared, how much I was there for him, regardless of how damaged he was.
He stopped fighting my hold and let loose.
He cried.
As his tears fell, my own dried up. We changed roles. His arctic shell finally thawed—shards of ice broke into smithereens, blizzards became snowflakes, and permafrost became liquid. There was no space inside him anymore; it had nowhere else to go but out.
Out his eyes, his soul, his heart.
I hugged the man who’d done so much wrong and let him purge until his body wracked and shook.
He didn’t make a sound. Not a single gasp or moan.
Utterly silent.
“What did they do to you?” I murmured. “You have to tell me. You have to let it go.”
My hands skated down his back, touching every inch: his face, his throat, his knees. I needed him to know that I brought him to this point, but I wouldn’t abandon him.
I would be there. Through thick and thin.
He didn’t stop crying.
Every quiver and silent sob exhausted me. I wanted to take back every cruel thing I’d said. I wanted to apologise for hurting him and for saying I would stop loving him.
I could never stop loving him.
Never.
He was inside my every cell.
I would never be able to carve him out—even in death.
“Give me your pain. Share it with me.” I wanted to do whatever I could to heal him, to fix him, and make him become the man buried inside.
Jethro suddenly turned in my embrace. Gathering me close, he pushed upward to his feet. I didn’t move as his arms clutched me painfully, stumblingacross the bedroom.
The moment the mattress was within tumbling distance, we fell together.
Facing each other, Jethro never let me go. He buried his face in my neck, hiding his wet eyes but unable to disguise the steady trickle of moisture down my throat.
God, I’m sorry. So sorry I broke you.
I squeezed him so damn hard.
His breathing hitched. His body shook.
