“So do I.”
His lips find mine again in a soft, tender kiss. One that shows me that he is in this just as much as I am.
The moment starts to get heated until Mocha lets out a little bark and licks up the side of our faces, making us both laugh.
“Come here, you little fur ball,” Beckett says, rolling off me, pulling me into his side, and Mocha on top of us. I rest my head on his shoulder and drape my leg over his hips.
“Please don’t go,” I whisper.
“I won’t, baby, I’m yours.” He kisses the top of my head, and I melt into him.Maybe, just maybe, this one will stay.
25
SLOANE
Today is not a good day. Some days are like this, where reality sets in, the hate comments win, I remember how alone I am, and everything just gets too much.
It’s not often I let these days win.But it’s hard to beat your demons every day, especially when they’re fucking screaming at you as loud as they can.
Sometimes it’s easier to just lie down and let them kick the shit out of you. To just take it because when they're done, you can wipe your tears and keep pretending like everything is fine.Pretend like you don’t think about every single bad thing anyone’s ever said about you, even if it's from over a decade ago.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every negative thought just played in my head on repeat. I knew that it was going to be a rough night, so I declined when Beckett asked if I wanted to stay with him.
I didn’t want to explain why I was sobbing into my pillow silently all night long.I didn’t want to have to talk about all the things that are going on inside my head.I didn’t want to talk about how dark it really gets sometimes. Or explain to him the things I think about doing when it seems like there is no light at the end of my tunnel.
I lay in my bed, curled up in my blankets. Staring at my door, as silent tears stream down my face.
I freeze when I hear his footsteps stop outside my door. I close my eyes when I hear my door open. I try to calm my breathing down, to seem like I’m asleep.
“Baby?” he whispers, as I feel the bed dip and he gently brushes his hand down my arm.
I sniffle, unable to hold it back.
“My sweet girl,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms. I fall apart. I don’t say words, I just bury my face into his shirt and cry.
He holds me tight, not saying anything. He kisses the top of my head, holding me tightly.
I don’t know how long he holds me, or how long I cry into him. He lets me stay there even after I stop crying, trembling, and hiccuping into his chest.
“It’s ok, just let it all out,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket. I'm not sure what he’s doing, but he calls someone.
“Hey, sorry for the late notice, but I’m going to have to take a sick day, maybe two. I think I got that summer cold that Jared came down with last week,” he lies, loosening his tie. I shake my head at him. I don’t want him to have to take more work off for me.
He pauses as he listens to whoever he’s talking to.
“I will keep you updated, bye,” he says, hanging up and putting his phone on my nightstand.
He lays me down and stands up, stripping himself down to only his boxers before climbing into bed with me.
“It’s ok, baby, I’m here,” He whispers, pulling me into his chest and kissing my forehead.
“You can go, you don’t have to stay home with me. I’ll be fine. I’m just being dramatic,” I whisper, letting out a shaky breath.
“Baby, you’re crying to the point that you're shaking and struggling to breathe,” he whispers, pulling me even closer to him.
“I’ll be ok,” I lie.
