I look up at the ceiling, the darkness above me. I spent years trying to avoid sitting here in the stillness, filling my life with noise, work, obligations—anything to keep from thinking too hard about her. But tonight, the past refused to stay buried. I remember the girl that she used to be. The way she had laughed with her whole body. The way she would playfully nudge me with her shoulder when I got too serious. The way she’d look at me like I was someone worth choosing.
I took that girl and broke her.
Not intentionally. Not maliciously. But the result was the same.
My father’s words echoed faintly in my memory—warnings, expectations, demands. I listened to them all. I had obeyed him. I abandoned the one person who had ever made me feel like I wasn’t just a Cromwell but a man with heart of my own.
I look down at Hendrix, her face relaxed now, her lashes resting softly against her cheeks. She looks peaceful in a way that makes my chest ache. She has survived something I didn’t even know she was fighting.
I brush my thumb lightly along her arm, grounding myself, reminding myself that she is here. Alive. Breathing. Safe with me. The guilt settles deeper, a slow suffocating pressure beneath my ribs.
I wonder how close she had come.
I wonder what might have happened if Ash hadn’t walked in.
I wonder how I would have lived with myself if she had slipped away without me knowing the truth.
I know the answer—I wouldn’t have. Not really. Not in any way that mattered.
I swallow hard, letting the remorse sit heavy in my chest, a weight that I will carry long after tonight.
She shifts slightly, her fingers brushing against my side before settling again. Even in her sleep, she is still reaching for me. Hendrix even trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms. It’s something that I’m sure I don’t deserve.
I lower my head, letting my cheek rest gently against her hair. I breathe in her shampoo and a light flowery perfume. The perfume smell is familiar, reminding me of memories I’ve tried so hard to forget.
I almost lost her.
I had almost never held her like this again.
I had almost lived the rest of my life without knowing how close she came to disappearing.
The thoughts are like a gut punch.
I tighten my arms around her, not possessive, not desperate, just steady like I’m trying to anchor her to me.
I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I don’t even know if she’ll want to talk about things more. Or if unburdening herself to me has changed anything. But I know this, I won’t run from the truth anymore. I will not hide behind excuses or obligations. I will not pretend that leaving her had been anything but the worst mistake of my life.
But for right now, I’ll hold her and face the truth of what I had done to her. It all made a bit more sense now, while she was so angry with me. Or why she cut me down the way she did, and I had deserved every damn dig she threw at me.
Sleep found me at some point last night. I wake up with a crick in my neck and no Hendrix lying in my arms. I yawn and stretch. The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was after three, so she must have snuck out sometime after that. I pick my phone up from the armrest of the couch and see that I have a message.
Hendrix: Glad you’re okay. Still might want to ice one more time. Please let’s not talk about last night again. Thanks for being so sweet about it, though. I appreciate it.
I read and reread the text. It makes it sound like the woman came over and borrowed a cup of sugar so that she could finish baking a cake. Not like she had admitted the horrible truth that I had almost lost her. I shake my head and type back a response.
August: Yes, doctor, I will do that. I do think that we should talk about it a bit more, though. I never really got to say much. There’s more I want to say. I thought about it all night long.
I glance at my phone, and her message was sent a little over an hour ago. It’s eight now, so she did stay for the whole night. That part makes me smile. I’m glad I got to hold her for so long. And, more importantly, that she stayed. Between that and the fact that she came over here to check on me, I tell myselfit means something. I don’t have long to ponder it since the elevator dings, and the doors slowly begin to open. Stupidly, I think it’s Hendrix coming back.
It’s not.
Dex walks into the living room holding two cups of coffee. “Good morning. Did you sleep on your couch?” He’s studying me carefully, like he’s taking an inventory of what I’m wearing to see if it is in fact the same outfit.
I reach to take the coffee he’s holding out to me. “Yeah, I did. Hendrix came to see me to make sure that I was okay.”
“Are you sure she came to see you to make sure you were okay and not to make sure you weren’t going to fire her?” he teases as he takes a sip of coffee.
I shake my head. “Nope, she came over here to check on me. Like I would ever fire her,” I say, sipping my coffee. “Thank you for this, by the way.”
