My whole body surrenders in his arms and I let myself cry harder. I’m not even crying about Shane. All I can think about is Myles; how good it felt to have him protect me, how I want him to hold me like this forever.
He strokes my hair, not saying anything but offering a world of comfort. Because I’m here, even temporarily, in that safe space again. And it feels like home.
Finally, when I’ve pulled myself together, I draw away just enough to look at him. His face is lined with concern, and he wipes a thumb under my eyes.
“I’m so sorry that happened. Do you want me to call the cops? Or I could pay him a visit—”
“It’s okay. Cory will take care of him.”
“I hope so. I want to strangle him.”
I give Myles a bleak smile. My mouth opens to speak again, but I stop myself, feeling uncertain. I’m still sitting on his lap, and as much as I want to curl up here permanently, I don’t want to get comfortable somewhere I might not be able to stay.
I make to stand, but he tucks his arm around me. “Cat—” His voice is hoarse with emotion and my heart lifts hopefully. He digs his teeth into his lower lip as his eyes roam my face. “Don’t go,” he finally whispers.
Relief unfurls inside me; tentative at first, but as I settle back down and he grips me tighter, it floods through me in great torrents. I let myself gaze at him properly for the first time this evening, trying to record every detail—the rough bristles on his jaw, the tiny freckle on his cheek, the faint laugh lines around his eyes as they gaze back at me. His face is a map to my happiness, to everything I could ever want.
He inhales to say something, but I get there first.
“I went to another meditation class yesterday.”
“Oh.” His eyebrows rise. “How’d it go?”
“It sucked.”
A frown wrinkles his forehead, but I continue, undeterred.
“It made me realize how much I’ve been living in fear. And it helped me to hear my intuition, finally. Everything you said was right. I’ve been scared and looking for reasons to run away. But I don’t want to run anymore.” I drag in a tearful breath. “Myles… I’m so sorry. I’ve been a coward and you’ve had to deal with that. You’ve been nothing but open and patient and loving and I’ve given you nothing. But I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t imagine ever loving another man. I want to be with you more than anything, if I’m not too late. I want to try to give you the things you’ve given me, if you can find a way to forgive me.”
He gazes at me for a long moment, calm and collected as always, saying nothing. And then, I can’t quite believe it, his eyes well with tears and he pulls me close, burying his face in my hair. “Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so much.” He squeezes me tight, and this time it’s me rubbing his back, feeling his chest rise and fall against me. “I can’t imagine my life without you either,” he murmurs, and with those simple words, my heart begins to stitch itself back together.
“You really missed me? After you came to my place, I thought—”
“I missed you so much it nearly killed me.” He sniffs, wiping under his eyes, and a smile hints at the corner of his mouth. “There was no one to tell me I have a huge ego, no one to call me a skater, no one to shoot me in the butt.”
A delighted laugh tickles my throat. “You really want that in your life?”
“Hell yes.” He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose and I smile.
“I want to be more like you, Myles. You’re so open, so fearless.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“I know. But there’s so much I love about you that I want to be.”
He aims his cocky grin at me and I laugh, realizing that I even love that side to him. “You should meditate with me,” he suggests, and I laugh again.
“I might be open to doing that.”
He studies me, quiet. “I’m not fearless, you know. The reason I never told you about what happened with Amber is because I was afraid. I was afraid I would lose you.”
My throat prickles at this admission. “I know,” I say softly. “And I’m sorry I walked away from you. But after everything I’ve been through…”
“You have been through a lot.” He caresses a thumb over my cheek, then cautiously adds, “I think maybe you should consider seeing a therapist. Just to help you process what happened with your dad, and Mark, and last year.”
I lower my gaze, unsure. The thought of telling a stranger about the things I’ve been through doesn’t thrill me. But I don’t want to carry this baggage around forever. And Geoff suggested the same thing, a while back. I was quick to dismiss it at the time, but I’ve come to see lately that Geoff and Myles are far wiser than I am. Geoff’s words come back to me—there’s nothing wrong with asking for and accepting help—and I nod.
“Okay,” I say at last. “I’ll try it.”
