Linus steps in first, guiding her under the spray. I follow.
Avonna rests her back against his chest, Linus wraps his arms around her middle. My hand finds her shoulder. I lather up a washcloth with body gel and we begin to tend to her. She tilts her face up, eyes closed, letting the water run over her hair.
Linus works shampoo into her scalp, massaging in small circles as I soap her arms, torso, legs. There’s nothing rushed in the way we touch her. No hunger. Just attention. She sways between us, breath evening out, shoulders dropping as the tension leaves her body.
“You both make me feel safe.” She smiles up at us.
Something in my chest loosens.
Linus kisses her shoulder. I rinse her hair, shielding her eyes with my palm. She leans forward, resting her forehead briefly against my chest. I sense how tired she is. Spent.
It’s been an emotional evening for all of us.
When the water shuts off, we wrap her in towels and guide her back to the bedroom. She settles between us on the bed, all of us still damp. Linus sits behind her, arms around her waist. She takes my hand, thumb tracing slow lines across my knuckles.
“We don’t want you to run.” She peers into my soul. Not asking.
Stating.
Linus reaches for my other hand. “Please let this settle in. We have a lot to catch up on.”
I swallow past the thickness in my throat.
“We want you here,” she adds. The words surprise me with how steady they sound. “This isn’t only about sex.”
She squeezes my fingers. I don’t pull away, though my primal instinct to flee is kicking into highgear.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight.” Linus pulls me toward him. “We’re not askin’ you to promise us forever—”
“We’re asking you to stay for a while and give things a chance,” she finishes.
The room grows quiet. I’m not sure how to feel. What to say.
Linus tugs me next to him and Avonna curls into the small space between us. He rests his hand over both of ours. I feel the grounding weight of them and think about how long I’ve been running from moments like this.
How I’ve convinced myself closeness always came with a cost.
For the first time since Linus left, I feel complete.
I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough every day to believe they want me with them.
Tonight, lying warm and held and wanted, I let myself believe I could try.
For now, that’s enough.
forty-one
Avonna
Two Weeks Later
It’stooquietwhenthey’re both gone.
It isn’t peaceful. It’s a void. A bruise inside my chest.
I told myself I’d soak in some me time. Let the silence warm me like a sunbeam. Light incense, brew the ridiculous loose-leaf tea Linus bought at Fallon & Byrne tasting of, “notes of hay smoke and cherry pit.” Fold the laundry threatening to avalanche off the bedroom chair.
Give my body a rest from…
