All I can do is nod because there aren’t any words that feel like they’ll be enough to thank her for this.
To tell her what it means to me.
To somehow explain that right here, on the shower floor, the water turning cold with my head buried into the soft place between her sternum, I feel more at peace than I’ve ever felt in my entire existence. Thirty-four years on Earth, and never once have I felt safe enough to stop running.
Until her.
CHAPTER 55
MAISIE
The glowing numberson the clock beside my bed read 4:54 a.m.
Only six more minutes until it’s set to go off.
I’ve been watching it for what feels like hours, tossing and turning, trying not to wake Wilder.
He didn’t get to my apartment until nearly midnight after spending the day traveling home from an out-of-state conference. They were supposed to be back hours before then, but there was an accident that closed down the interstate, and traffic was at a complete standstill.
By the time he crawled into bed after eating and showering, he passed out within seconds, with me tucked tightly against his chest.
Sleep is so rare for him, and I know how much he needs it, so I don’t want to wake him.
But God, I’ve missed him.
I hated being apart, even though it was only a few days, especially so close together with everything that’d just happened with his mom over break.
Three days after it, he was on a bus traveling to Arkansas as if nothing had ever happened, and I’ve been struggling ever since.
I don’t want him to have to go back to the way things were for him, to where he pushed all his feelings down and buried them. He shouldn’t have to go back to normal daily life as if his entire life wasn’t just flipped upside down.
But he refused to take time off. Said the team needed him, and he wasn’t going to be the asshole that left them hanging and that life doesn’t pause.
One of those selfless things he does that he never wants to acknowledge.
And he’s right: life doesn’t pause.
It just keeps going, and we have to keep going with it. But I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t spent the last six days grieving for the man I love.
For the boy that he once was.
For all of the vile, disgusting, horrifying things he’s had to endure.
It broke my heart fully, learning about Wilder’s past, but as much as it hurt to hear it, it meant everything that he trusted me enough to share it with me.
If anything, it makes me love him more.
It made me want to protect him so fiercely that no one will ever get close enough to hurt him that way ever again.
It made me understand him in ways I never did before.
The alarm blares, and relief washes over me.
Finally.
Wilder doesn’t stir despite the noise. He’s serene and so peaceful that I almost hate waking him up. I reach over, gently trailing my fingertips along the edge of his jaw and up to the relaxed space between his brows, where there’s usually a small crease from tension.
I used to think he was broody and callous for no reason, just constantly on edge. But now, I look at that spot differently, knowing the weight of what he’s been carrying for so long.
