Finally, she lifts her head up and says, “What was it that he said to you about living in the barn for all those years? Wasn’t it that he felt so lonely, but rather than dwelling on that, he convinced himself that he didn’t need anybody to survive? That he didn’t seek their love once he realized they wouldn’t give it to him?”
I take a deep breath and think about that conversation we had. It feels so long ago now. He accepted his living situation as a foster-like situation. Even though they were blood family. It brings more tears to my eyes, just as it did then. He was only a little boy when he lost his mom, when he was cast aside and treated like a stray.Not loved like a son or nephew.
“Yes, he believed it was weak to want a hug. To ask for anything more than the scraps ofhomelife he was given.”
“Well, maybe he just needs love, Penny. He needs to be reminded every day that he’s loved, that it’s not some fluke, and that it’s real. Maybe he needs to see your actions match your words.”
“And then what? Every day I say I love him, but I remain broken, battered, and even more heartbroken?”
“Maybe . . . but also, maybe he finally sees that he’s not the abandoned, cast-aside child he once was, but instead, a man who is wanted. A man worth spending time with. A man worth loving.”
ChapterThirty-Five
ELI
You’re such a fucking moron.
Of course she’s not hiding anyone in the goddamn closet. She has proven more than once that she cares about you and only you. That she wants you. She seeks you out more than any woman ever has, and at night, when her mind settles down, she curls into you, soaking in your warmth.
Why would I even suggest that she was hiding someone?
Probably because with each passing day that goes by, I feel more possessive over her. I feel the need to show her how much I care about her. How much I want her in my life.
Yet every time she brings up the word love, I fucking freeze.
I become so self-aware of my inadequacies that I don’t know what to do other than to not say a goddamn word.
Because how could she love me? She’s so much more than I’ll ever be. She’s so smart, so loving, so open to giving her heart. And every day, when I wake up with her in my arms, I wonder how I get so goddamn lucky to be able to spend my days with her, even when she’s acting out or fighting with me.
I’m the one who’s fucked up.
I’m the one who could easily mess this up.
I’m the one who needs to figure out how the hell to be in a relationship.
Hating myself for being so goddamn stupid, I kick my shoes off and place them in the closet before hanging all the coats back up. When I turn toward the living room, I spot one of my dress shoes on the windowsill.
What the hell is it doing there . . . and what is that in it?
She’s...planted something in it.
What the fuck?
I pick up the shoe and examine the expensive leather that is now full of soil and . . . yup, she watered it.
I put the shoe back down because I’m not sure there’s much I can do about that at the moment. Instead, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Posey.
“I just left you. You miss me that much?” he answers.
“Dude, I keep fucking up.”
“What did you do this time?”
I pace the living room while pulling on my hair continuously. “Accused her of hiding a man in the closet.”
“What?” He chuckles. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in your apartment. Between the insane fights you get in, and the weird things she does around the place like hide the remote control from you—”
“Found it in the freezer, by the way.”
