Page 72 of Protected from Torment

I love wearing Tyler’s clothes, too. I love how his smell lingers on them, even though I know he pulled them fresh from the drawer, so all I should really smell is the faint aroma of detergent. I love how protected I feel in his oversized shirt, the short sleeves so long they come down to my elbows.

Desire coils deep inside me, heavy and hot and needy. My core squeezes. I’m still slightly sore from the two rounds of sex last night—after six plus years of abstinence, I wouldn’t have expected otherwise—but it’s the best kind of ache. It’s the kind that makes me want more.

I think about going back inside to Tyler, but something makes me stay outside instead.

Glancing up at the canopy of branches above me, I catch a glimpse of a squirrel leaping from one to the next. Oscar would like that, I think. But Oscar is still fast asleep on his doggie bed in Tyler’s bedroom, his head resting on his favorite stuffed bunny and his paws twitching slightly as he dreams.

I didn’t have to ask Tyler to move Oscar’s bed last night. While I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, Tyler did it himself. “I thought you’d want him in here,” Tyler explained when I came back into his bedroom. “So I got his bed, his favorite stuffy, and I even moved his water bowl in case he gets thirsty at night.”

It’s the little things Tyler does that make me realize I’m falling in love with him.

It’s moving Oscar’s bed because he knows it’s important to me.

It’s the coffee he makes me every morning, and how he memorized just how I like it after only seeing me prepare it once.

It’s the way he checks in with me, like he did at the party last night, always thinking and worrying about me.

It’s the tray of snacks he brought me in bed last night, along with the sweet explanation, “I know you were a little anxious at the party and probably didn’t eat as much as you would have. Plus, with all the energy we expended… I thought you might be hungry.”

The Melissa of ten years ago would have wanted grand gestures and sweeping proclamations. She wouldn’t have thought of dog beds and coffee as being romantic.

But the Melissa of ten years later knows love is so much more than that.

It’s the little things we do every day to make our partner happy.

I had begun to learn it with Vince, and then he was taken away from me.

And now, with Tyler, I know it with certainty.

He doesn’t need to give me flowers or jewelry or expensive trips, though if I asked, I think he’d give them to me. I’m happy being with Tyler just as we are. With quiet conversations over coffee and walking Oscar through the woods in companionable silence and laughing together in the evenings while we trade off watching each other’s favorite shows.

Thinking about Tyler is like a blanket fresh from the dryer wrapping around me.

This time, when I shiver, it’s from happiness and not from the cold.

A smile pulls at my lips as I cast another look around me. The grass is a shimmering gold and green, with faint silvery wisps rising above it as the dew evaporates. A red-breasted bird makes a daring descent from a towering pine before rising into the sky again. And then, almost so quickly I miss it, a chipmunk darts across the back porch only feet from me before ducking beneath it.

For a moment, I wonder what it would be like if I lived here.

Not just visiting, with a big question mark for my departure date. But living here. As Tyler’s partner. As part of the Blade and Arrow family.

I know it’s too soon to be considering such a thing. But when I think about living here, it feels right.

What would Vince say? I wonder. Would he tell me to take a chance on someone new? Would he urge caution, knowing everything I’ve been through? Or would he be hurt that I’m considering a future with someone else after I vowed to spend my life with him?

To the last, I’m sure of his answer: No. He wouldn’t be hurt. He’d be happy that I’m not alone anymore. He’d want someone he could trust to be there for me. And I know, of all the men I could have chosen, Vince would approve of Tyler.

As for being careful? Taking things slow?

Closing my eyes, I draw up Vince’s face in my mind. I remember his voice. His smile. I imagine telling him about Tyler and asking for his advice.

“Melly,” I hear Vince say, “we know life is short. If this feels right, you should go for it.” Then he pauses before adding in a more threatening tone, “But he’d better not hurt you.”

“He won’t,” I reply silently. “Tyler’s a good one. I know he’s not you. But he makes me happy. He makes me feel safe. And I think… I’m falling in love with him.”

“Good,” Vince replies. “You deserve to be happy, Melly. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears sting my eyes as Vince’s voice fades away.