Damon:I’m sorry that your dad never had your back. You deserved better.
And there it is. The envy, guilt, and monumental rage that I’ve been pushing deep down for as long as I can remember. At the injustice of my father’s actions, at society for not giving a shit about domestic violence, at Kurt for the abuse, and finally, at my mother for never standing up to my father and inadvertently teaching me the same behavior. I’m so fuckingfurious. It’s filling me up. It’s big, and it’s scary, and it has nowhere to go. It’s too late, and I’m too tired to run it off. Abby licks my cheek, grounding me, helping me push back some of my fury.
Damon:You okay?
Damon:Jos?
Damon:You’re not okay. I’m coming over.
Joslyn:No need. Lexi needs you there. Really. I’m fine.
Damon:Nope. Not buying it. Julia’s here with her. She finally agreed to call her mom. Everyone’s calm, so be there in 20.
Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. I open it, but that’s all I can do. I’ve got nothing left. He takes one look at my bedraggled appearance, and then I’m in his arms. Using his foot to kick the door closed, he carries me across the room to my comfy blue sofa. The safety of his arms is all I need to let go. The dam breaks, and the tears flow. I can’t stop them, and after a minute, I don’t even try.
“Let it out, Jos. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, as he settles us comfortably, still holding me close.
And I do. I let it all out. I let him hold me through the angry tears, the sad tears, the self-pity tears, until finally, there’s nothing left, and I’m merely an empty husk. He’s there through it all, solid and steady.
He keeps doing this for me, showing up every time I fall apart. He doesn’t try to fix it or stop it. He rides through it with me, and for the first time in my life, I feel seen. Like what I feel matters, like I matter. I’ve never had this kind of support in a relationship before, and it feels so damn good.
His arms are a solid wall around me as he strokes my hair soothingly while peppering my head with tiny kisses. Sinking into him, I let his warmth comfort me and my bruised heart.
“Better?” he asks quietly, stroking his strong hands up and down my back in a rhythmic motion that’s almost hypnotic. It’s giving me warm shivers, and it’s everything I need right now.
“I am,” I declare. I’m completely wrung out, but it feels so good to be held and supported like this. I smile as he kisses my forehead gently.
He sets me on the sofa and goes to the kitchen. I hear the water running, and he returns with two bottles of water and a warm washcloth. He hands me the washcloth and one of the bottles of water.
“For your face. It will feel good.” Then, he sits beside me while I drink the water and wash my face.
I’m drained, but I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice cracking from all the night’s emotion.
He takes my hand in his, his face serious.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Jos. For as long as you’ll let me.”
It feels like a vow, and my heart soars. All the things I feel for this wonderful man fill me to the brim, threatening to overflow. I don’t let them, but the urge to share them is so tempting. I don’t, but for the first time, I want to.
“Let’s get you to bed. It’s late, and I think we’ve all had enough for one day,” he says gently, tucking an errant curl behind my ear.
I look up at him more closely and notice his tired eyes, the bandage on the knuckles of his right hand, and the slump in his shoulders. It’s not only me who’s had a hell of a day. I hold out my hand to him. If I weren’t so damn tired, I’d feel guiltier.
“Stay. Please,” I whisper hoarsely.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
He follows me into the bedroom, and we undress in silence. I’m so spent that I don’t even attempt my nightly skincare routine or put on my PJs. Forget all that. I need to be horizontal.
We climb into bed on opposite sides, and once I’m wrapped up under the covers, I feel him settle at my back. He slides a hand over my side to my stomach, pulling me against him, and I snuggle into his luscious warmth before drifting off.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Damon
Warm sunshine lights up the room, dragging me out of a deep sleep. Disoriented, the silky blue sheets confuse me until the memory of yesterday’s emotional roller coaster returns. Ugh, not ready to deal with all that yet. I ignore it all in favor of watching Joslyn sleep. She looks so peaceful. Her gorgeous face is soft and relaxed despite all the recent stress. Her fiery curls are spread across the pillow, a beautiful contrast to her ivory skin.
