Grabbing two forks, I juggle the plastic containers and bottles of water as I return to the bedroom.
I’m mildly disappointed to find Win in a pair of black boxer briefs, propped against the headboard, scrolling through his phone, raven hair sticking up in all directions.
Grey eyes lift, widening in excitement.
“You got Chinese?”
My cheeks heat. “It used to be your favorite.”
“Still is,” he grins as I settle next to him. We situate the food in front of us (more like I try to divide it equally while he attempts to steal all the eggrolls.) He drops one on the bed with a hiss, shaking his hand out.
“That’s what you get for being a greedy little shit.”
Two fingers dip into my sauce.
I glare at him.
He sucks them into his mouth, giving me doe eyes.
“Fucking heathen.”
He shrugs, releasing them with a pop.
I roll my eyes.
He snickers.
For a while, we gorge in comfortable silence. I’m slowing down when Win’s palm lands on my thigh followed by a wisp of a kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs. “For everything. It's difficult for me to… accept comfort when I don't think I deserve it.”
Aching emotion sits at the back of my throat. I shake my head. “You do.”
He blinks rapidly, head tilting back to the ceiling. “Fuck this is hard.” I cover his hand with mine and wait as he blows out a shaky breath. “According to my therapist at rehab, I prioritize everyone else because dealing with my own emotions is too painful. I’ve done it all my life. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my dad, but he wasn’t perfect. His moods were based on the state of his finances or work schedule and I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I suppressed my needs. By the time I started getting bullied in school, it was too late— I’d already trained myself to bottle everything up. I didn't realize I'd run out of space until I needed to get it out, but I didn’t know how to communicate, so I hurt myself. I know it’s not an excuse but it's one thing to know it and something else entirely to feel it. I guess… I’m still trying to come to terms with everything I’ve kept inside for so long.”
Tears sting my eyes as I lift our joined hands and kiss his knuckles. “It makes sense. What matters is you’re trying,” I rasp. His fingers tremble in my grip. “And Win?”
Bloodshot grey eyes meet my wet ones.
“Yeah?”
“You’re mine. That means your pain is too. So whenever you’re ready, we’ll take those demons on together, ok?”
His lip quivers. “What if you hate what you learn?”
Releasing his hand, I grasp him by the back of the neck. “Listen to me. I don’t need specifics to know I can andwillhate the things you’ve been through only because I can’t turn back time and protect you from them.”
Tears spill over. “I fucking hate crying,” he chokes with a sad laugh.
“But you’re so pretty when you do,” I tease. He snorts, trying to pull back. I reel him closer and skim my mouth over his. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“When it comes to you, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
His forehead touches mine. “Right back at you, sunshine,” he whispers and kisses me. It takes herculean strength to break from his drugging lips.
“One last thing,” I murmur. “Do you remember what I asked for with that stupid birthday voucher?”
