There’s no Barclay here. No other men.
There never will be.
“You were younger too.” Her neck is like silk beneath my lips. “It wasn’t the right time to start something, a relationship. That’s why, over the weekends or when school was out, I spent my mornings outside, jogging.”
“But that morning?”
I peek at her and see she isn’t scowling or showing any sign of being offended by what I’m saying.
As always, she understands me.
“I was hurting because it would’ve been my first Christmas without my parents.”
She freezes, her breath hitching. “So you risked my brother catching us just so you could have breakfast with me? Alone?”
“Didn’t think twice about it. I was desperate to be near you. So I waited to hear your soft steps padding down the hall. Then I followed you down there, found you putting on the coffee.” I shift us slowly, guiding her onto her back and settling over her, my arms caging her face. “Just by being there, you had the power to heal me.”
“I didn’t do anything.” She scrunches her nose. “You told me to go sit at the kitchen island even before the coffee was done. Then you spoiled me by getting everything ready.”
“I wanted to do so much more for you. For my girl.” I kiss each red cheek.
“Yours,” she whispers.
“Yes. That’s what you were, are, and will be. Always.”
How her lips twist. I don’t like that.
“What’s wrong, little moon?”
“Could we…” She draws in a breath, gathering courage. “I want to replay that morning. It’s the one memory I could never let go of. Not that I managed to let the others fade, but this one stayed vivid. I think it’s because it was so…domestic. Because when I imagined our life together after you left, that was one of the things I wished for. Lazy mornings with you. Just you.”
I fucking melt right then and there.
“If that’s what you want, that’s what you’re having. As in this morning.”
“Seriously?” No smile has shone as bright. No pair of eyes has been as luminescent.
From something as simple as reenacting one of the mornings we shared.
How could I believe she chose money and status over me? How could I judge her when I knew exactly who she was? I fuckingknew.
My chest caves in. The pressure on my lungs nearly crushes them.
“You know what?” A frown curves her beautiful lips down. And it’s my fault. For being quiet. For cursing myself over and over inwardly. “You don’t have to. It’s silly, right? I can make my own coffee.”
When she starts to slide out from under me, I don’t think twice. I lean most of my weight on top of hers, pressing our foreheads together.
“Elowyn.”I hate Barclay. I even hate your dead parents. Most of all, though, I hate myself.“I’m so sorry. For the years I hadn’t been around. Before I left too. They never treated you right, and I…”
Curiosity flashes in her eyes. “You what?”
“I could’ve protected you more. Could’ve done so much better.”
“Oh, please.” That watery laugh, I hate it too. Someone did owe hersomething, and from now on, I’m going to be that person. “You were my brother’s best friend, not mine.”
“I already told you, I was yours. And that’s why I tried. Fuck, I really tried. I’d wait outside your room some nights,” I say what I never told anyone. “I couldn’t take it, hearing you cry after Barclay was being a jerk. Or how I’d see you spreading yourself thin or weeping over a dog no one wanted to adopt.”
“You, uh…” Her heart pounds wildly. I feel it against my chest. “It was nothing, really. I was fine.”
