“Nothing. I’m good.” Her words came out thick with emotion.
I pressed myself to the back of her, sliding one hand around her waist while my other hand grabbed her wrist to stop her from cleaning the mirror. I brought that hand to her chest, hugging her. “What can I do for you?”
Her teary-eyed gaze looked up at me in the mirror, bottom lip quivering. “Hold me,” her words broke as the tears made their way down her face.
I turned her toward me, wrapping her in my arms. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. Yet, the one thing that tore her apart was beyond my control.
Nothing in a medical kit could fix it. No amount of education would find a solution. Why was it when the important people in our lives needed us the most, that was when our love felt the most empty—most helpless?
I gave her my arms. They couldn’t fix anything, but maybe they’d hold her together. I was certain they were made to do exactly that. She didn’t want me to say the words, but I thought them. They screamed in my head and thumped in my chest; they whispered from my lungs with every breath.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
She sobbed.
I stroked her hair.
I held her up when her legs gave out.
I carried her to the sofa and let her cling to me while she worked out a bit of reality. There was so much I knew about reality and life. From a very young age, I learned about breaths, fragility, and beating impossible odds.
When her tears ran dry, she eased her grip on my shirt and glanced up at me. “Thank you.”
I returned a sad smile.
“You didn’t tell me it’s going to be okay.” She sniffled, wiping her cheeks.
“I don’t know that it is going to be okay.”
“It has to be.”
I stared at her a few seconds, contemplating my next words. When I couldn’t find the right ones, I kissed her forehead.
“I should finish cleaning.” She tried to climb off my lap, but I pulled her back to me, wrapping my arms around her waist, her back to my chest.
Resting my chin on her shoulder, I slanted my head to kiss her neck. “Earlier, in bed …”
“Don’t say it.” She leaned her head into mine.
“I’m not.” I chuckled. “But would it really be so bad?”
“Save it for a rainy day.”
“A rainy day?”
“Yes. When there’s nothing to say because it’s all been said a million times before … but you have to say something.”
“Then let’s go get coffee.”
She turned toward me. “We have coffee here.”
“True. But I like going to Grinds with you, sitting across from you at one of those tiny round tables, staring at each other through the steam of our coffees. I like the shy but flirty smile you give me. It reminds me of the day we met in Vancouver. It’s when I know we’re thinking those words we don’t actually say.”
The corners of her mouth turned up a fraction. Yeah, she fucking loved me too, and she knew. She knew it a long time ago.
I continued, “I like the soft jazz music, background chatter, and the whoosh of steam as they froth the milk. It all feels like this perfect Evelyn bubble. When I reach across the table and touch your hand, your cheeks turn pink and it does all kinds of insane things to me. But I can’t act on impulse when we’re there, so it’s this beautiful, torturous foreplay.”
Evelyn grinned, nodding slowly. “I love going for coffee with you too. I get to stare at you and pinch myself because I can’t believe you found your way to me … to my life. And I can’t believe you just said all of that like you were reading my mind. That day in Vancouver, it felt like so much more than a stop along my way. It felt like I had arrived.” She glanced over her shoulder.
I nipped at her lower lip. “That’s the thing about you, Evie … I had no idea I was waiting for someone until you arrived.”
“Ronin Alexander, are you a romantic? A chance meeting? A look? A feeling?” She turned her body, straddling my lap and interlacing her fingers behind my neck.
My lips twisted. “Hmm … I’m not sure yet.”
She kissed the corner of my mouth and whispered, “You are such a romantic.”
CHAPTER NINE
Evelyn
“Hey!” Ronin wiped his hands on a dishtowel and turned down the heat on my stove. “I got someone to cover for me today, so I could clean your house, grocery shop, and get dinner started. My parents arrived a few hours ago. They’re unpacking at the Gilberts’ house, and then they’re coming for dinner.” He pulled me in for a hug. “How did it go with your dad?”