My eyes started to water. “I know that.”
“There are things we need to talk about, but I don’t want to ruin this.” His voice was rough as his hand found mine. He brought them to my chest, pressing them against my heart. The water was warm, steam lifting from our skin as he said, “Despite it being in the middle of a shitstorm, this has been the best night of my life.”
Mine too.I dropped my head, my eyes on our legs and the ripples bouncing off them. “I just…I have so many questions and everything I thought I knew—” I cut myself off and squeezed my eyes shut. “I had no idea that you were left at the horrible place. You took a bullet for me, and Agent Masters promised she would send backup.”
“Angel—”
“I should’ve never let her put me in that car,” I rasped, ignoring the glass in my throat. “I should’ve fought to stay with you.”
His voice was merely a whisper, a broken confession that didn’t even meet the walls. “I would’ve never wanted that. The state you were in…you needed medical attention. You didn’t need to be the hero.”
“But you were abandoned.”
Didn’t he get that? He was hurt because of me. Left to die.
He was quiet for a moment, but thankfully didn’t make me wait long for an answer. “I need you to understand something, Angel,” he began, trailing a finger over my shoulder. “There will never be a day or even a moment in my life when I regret doing what needed to be done in order to save you.”
“But—”
“Even if you were never in danger after I pulled you out of that house,” he cut me off. “I still don’t regret searching for you. My only regret, my love, is not finding you sooner.”
My love.
I twisted, gripping the edge of the tub, gaping at him. My voice cracked, a heavy weight on my chest. “What did you just call me?”
His eyes flicked up from my back to mine. “You heard me.”
My cheeks heated and my heart started to race. “You can’t say things like that unless you mean them.”
“I do,” he confirmed, gently pushing me back against him. His lips brushed against my temple. “But I won’t say it again until you’re comfortable with it.”
A lump formed in my throat. “And what if I have regrets about that day?”
He sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me steady as a storm raged in my head. “Please don’t.”
“I survived, and you—you went to god knows where to find me,” I croaked.
“Yeah, and I’d do it all over again just to be right here. With you.”
Guilt poisoned my blood, consuming me from the inside out. “Please, tell me. Tell me what you went through.”
His arms tightened for a moment. “I can’t.”
Don’t push.
Don’t push.
Don’t push.
“I understand.” And I did. There were parts of my trauma I never wanted to talk about, not even with the pages of my journal. Some things were just too dark to bring into the light.
Another sigh left him as he rested his arms back on the edge. I pressed myself farther into him and brought my knees up, waiting. There was a stretch of silence between us, the only sound coming from the drip from the faucet. The flames of the candles were mostly steady, aside from the three dancing flames scattered throughout the row. I watched the middle one for some time, listening to my heartbeat slow, feeling the safety of his body around mine, the warmth of the water. Steam drifted up to the candlelight to dance before disappearing into the unknown.
Ash inhaled a soft breath, and when he released it, his chest shook. “I can’t tell you, Angel, because I don’t remember half of it.” Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as I shot up andlooked back at him, hitting the tile with asplat.He wasn’t fazed, his face soft, his shoulders still relaxed. Slowly, his brows came together as he reached up, stroking his knuckle across my jaw.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “Come back to me.”
I shook my head, feeling sick. “Memory loss can be from trauma.”
