Page 88 of Freefall

He added honey.

The tea helps, but it doesn’t fix anything. Jace is still gone, my kitchen is still a disaster, and I’m still vacillating between bone-deep sadness and blinding anger.

It does, however, give me something warm to hold while Nate quietly rolls up his shirt sleeves and starts cleaning. He doesn’t ask where anything goes. He just figures it out before sweeping up the pile of glass on the floor and wiping down the counters.

I should help, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from him.

A few minutes later, he reaches the sliding door and sprays cleaner across it. My stomach drops as he pauses, paper towel in hand, and his eyes land on the tiny fingerprints scattered across the glass. Smudged handprints from three different heights. I remember each one.

The first day we moved in.

Mommy, there’s a big glass door like at Aunt Tessa’s.

The rainstorm a few days after her birthday.

The drops of water look like rocket ships, Mommy.

The spider from last week.

Can we keep him? We can name him Webster.”

I’ve complained to myself about it, but I haven’t been able to clean them. One day, there won't be any new handprints.

Nate studies the glass for another second before lifting the paper towel. Then he starts wiping around the prints until every inch shines. Every inch except for where Daisy’s hands have been. When he’s finished, he sets the bottle underneath the sink and moves on as though nothing happened.

I stare at him for another minute, my jaw slack.

This man, who can barely tolerate a crooked staple, left our daughter’s handprints on the sliding glass door. Something inside me quietly breaks, and I cross the kitchen as he turns.

“What?”

I don’t answer.

My hands wrap around his face, his stubble scratching lightly against my palms. I press my lips to his. It’s soft at first, exploratory, but then I slip my tongue between the seam of his lips. His hands find my hips, pulling me closer before he gently eases me back.

“Harper,” he rasps.

“Don’t.” My forehead falls against his. “I just want to feel good.”

His thumb brushes under my eye, catching a stray tear before it falls. “Okay.”

I kiss him again, and this time, his tongue slides past my lips. His warmth soaks into my bones as he presses me against the counter. I can feel him, thick and hard as he rubs against my core. My nipples are so hard, it’s painful, and as if he can read my mind, he leans down to circle his tongue over a peaked bud before lightly nipping at it through the thin material of my tank top. My hands fly to the waistband of his pants, tugging them over his ass and freeing his cock.

He wraps his hand around it, pumping a few times before yanking my leggings down and moving my panties to the side. I start to reach for him, but he stops me. “Harper.” His voice is rough. “I don’t have⁠—”

“I’m covered,” I whisper.

I don’t explain any further, and he doesn’t ask. He searches my face long enough for my erratic heart to beat exactly one time before his hands slide under my thighs.

Then he lifts me.

My legs circle his waist, my arms locking around his shoulders as he carries me the few steps to the counter. He sets me on the edge, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he erases the last bit of distance between us before pushing inside me. We both sigh in relief. He pulls out almost all the way, thrusting in again, and I can’t help but look down at where we’re connected. The sight makes my muscles contract hard around him.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “If you do that again, this is going to be over pretty quickly.”

He doesn’t tease me this time. He doesn’t issue orders or whisper dirty words in my ear. He simply fucks the sadness away. When I come, it’s with his name falling from my lips like a confession. He follows me right after, whimpering as he swells inside me.

Afterward, he wordlessly lifts my leggings back up, tucks himself back in, and carries me into the living room. He lays me down on the couch and makes another cup of tea. When the couch dips beside me, I lean my head against his shoulder, listening to his rapid breathing start to slow.