His eyes flicker with pain. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. I can’t look at you without thinking about him.”
“How can you say that?”
“Get out. Go live your life and stop worrying about trying to fix mine.”
“Please, don’t push me away. I need you.”
“You don’t need me. I’m broken, Linc, can’t you see? Just leave.”
“Sylvie, please—”
“Just fuckingleave!” My throat is raw, so are my insides.
I don’t want to feel anything, not ever again. It hurts too damn much.
Present
As long as I live, I’ll never be able to carve the image of Dean, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, out of my mind. Nausea rolls in my belly and I spring from the couch, barely making it to the bathroom. This is why I hate talking about him. Not only is it emotionally crippling, it’s physically debilitating as well.
Linc’s hands caress my clammy skin as I dry heave into the bowl. I lift my head to find his eyes. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Linc.” He reaches for a washcloth, running it under the cool tap before wiping my mouth. Brushing the loose strands of hair from my face, he kisses my damp forehead. “I hate that I couldn’t help him. That I couldn’t love him enough.”
Linc’s fingers lift my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “It’s not your fault, Syl.” Shaking my head, I try to pull away. “Look at me,” he demands, his hands cradling my cheeks to hold my face in place. There is no judgment in his eyes, only love and understanding. “He was sick. Even if you had stayed, the end result would have been the same. You did everything you could to save him. But sometimes, we have to save ourselves.” His lips meet mine, reverent and sweet. The tenderness of his kiss makes me whimper. “You have to let go of the guilt,” he whispers.
“I’m trying,” I say, dropping my head to his chest. “I just don’t know how.”
“I’ll show you.” There’s strong promise in his voice, it fills my heart with hope.
Hope that one day I will be able to look back on the past and find reason. There are so many things I would have done differently but like Linc said, would it have really changed the outcome? I can’t continue to wonder.
Regret is exhausting.
His hand slides up my neck into my hair, his gaze holding mine. “I’ll put the pieces back together, baby. I promise.”
He kisses my forehead then stands, letting go of me long enough to turn on the shower. Steam fills the air around us and so does his ever-present comfort. He takes my hand, leading me under the hot spray. There is no place in the world I would rather be than right here. With his hands roaming my back, his lips press against the skin of my shoulder, peppering a trail to my neck, erasing the tension one deliberate kiss at time. I suck a deep lungful of air and then let go on a long exhale. His mouth finally reaches mine in a single quest to eliminate every bit of sadness from my soul. He devours each moan with vigorous need and I let him have it all, sharing every ounce of pain and grief I carry inside. He wants it.
Demands it.
His warm tongue slides against mine, deepening the kiss, strengthening our bond. “I love you,” he whispers upon my lips.
“I love you, too.” As the words roll off my tongue with ease, a few of those broken pieces slide back into place.
We spend the rest of the night making love. Linc is attentive, passionate. His deep exploration of my body leaves me a quivering mess of skin beneath him. There is not an inch of me that has been left untouched by his sure hands. Wrapped in his arms, we drift in and out of sleep for the next few hours, content to take advantage of our time together.
“You awake?” he asks, his voice deep and groggy with sleep.
I flip over to face him, wanting to look into his soft green eyes. “Barely.”
He moves one hand between us, cupping my breast before sucking my nipple into his mouth. “We have lots to make up for, baby.”
“At this rate, we’ll be caught up by morning.”
He laughs, the sound vibrating across my chest as he moves his lips up my neck. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
Smiling, I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me, smothering myself in his warmth. I never want to let him go. “I never thought I would get to have you like this. It’s surreal.”
He lets go of a long sigh, kissing my forehead. “I always knew.”
