He swallows. “I wouldn’t have left if I had known. If I had any idea that you were sick, that you were—” He stops himself, exhaling sharply. “I never would have left you alone.”
I blink at him, my mind scrambling to process. All this time, I thought he had walked away because he regretted everything that happened between us.
I shake my head slowly, my lips pressing together. “Well,” I manage, “your plan kind of backfired, didn’t it?” I sniff, rubbing my eyes. “I should have told you about the heart failure.”
He watches me for a long beat before nodding. “Yeah. You should’ve.”
I let out a breath, staring at my hands in my lap. “It’s always upset me, you know. How things ended between us the day before I left. I never wanted it to be like that.”
He shifts closer, voice low as he says. “Do you think I’ve gone one second without thinking about you?”
I look up at him sharply, heart thudding against my ribs.
His expression is raw and open in a way I’ve never seen before. “When your mom died,” he says, voice thick as sadnesscomes to the surface, “all I wanted to do was hold you. I wanted you to know you still had something worth living for. That you didn’t have to run away.”
Tears sting my eyes again. I reach for him before I can think twice. And when he leans in, I meet him halfway. The kiss is soft at first, tentative. His lips brush against mine like he’s making sure I want this. He’s giving me a chance to pull away, but I don’t.
I press closer, my fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, and that’s all it takes for the kiss to shift into something deeper. His hands come up to cradle my face, his thumb swiping gently against my skin. He kisses me like he’s afraid I might disappear again, like he’s been waiting for a moment like this again.
Maybe he has.
Maybe I have, too.
25
ALEX
Emma barely makes it through the last piece of sushi before her eyes start getting heavy. She tries to fight it, but I can see it in the way she leans against the pillows and in the slow blinks that last a little too long. She’s exhausted. And I can’t blame her. She just got out of the hospital, and I’m keeping her outside in the chilly night air just because I don’t want this moment with her to end.
She exhales softly, shifting on the blanket, a slight chill shakes her body. “I think I want to try out that new tub.”
I smirk. “I heard it is pretty great.”
She’s grinning now. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that?”
“I may have tried it out before you got home.” She smacks my shoulder, laughing gently. I help her to her feet, keeping a firm hold on her waist when she wobbles a little. She lets me guide her inside, her fingers curling around my wrist as we walk through the house.
The bathroom is warm and cozy, a perfect blend of old and new. The deep clawfoot tub sits beneath a window, its polished porcelain gleaming under the dim light. I turn the taps, letting the water flow as steam starts to rise, then grab one of thosebath bomb things from a little dish on the counter. It’s pale pink with specs of gold, and when I drop it in, it fizzes instantly into the water like ink spreading across a page.
I glance back at Emma, who’s watching my every move with a soft look in her eyes.
I swallow. “Come here.”
She steps forward and I take my time as I slip my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, dragging it up and over her head. I press a kiss to her shoulder, to the soft, smooth skin beneath her collarbone, then trail down to the center of her chest. Her breath hitches.
Piece by piece, I undress her, kissing every new inch of exposed skin like it’s something sacred.
By the time she’s bare, my heart is pounding. This time is different though. This is reverence.
She turns away from me shyly, “Don’t look.”
“Now that I’ve seen you like this, how can I ever look away?”
Her cheeks flush and she steps into the tub, sinking into the warm water with a sigh, her body disappearing beneath the soft foam.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, curious but too relaxed to question it. I slip out of the bathroom and head back to her bedroom, scanning the bookshelf until I find what I’m looking for. The old, worn copy ofPride and Prejudicethat still has a price sticker on the cover, sits right where I saw it earlier, its spine cracked and familiar.
