Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dexter
A faint creak pulls me from sleep, the kind of sound you don't notice unless the silence is too heavy. My eyes flutter open, the blurry edges of the room sharpening as I adjust to the dim light spilling in through the curtains. The bed feels colder than it should, the side where Suzie and Pete had been curled up now empty.
I reach out, my hand grazing over the rumpled sheets, their warmth long gone. A hollow ache settles in my chest as I sit up, the morning light cutting weakly through the thick grey clouds outside. The weather seems to mock the knot twisting in my gut, the heavy sky pressing down like a weight I can't shrug off.
The door to our room is slightly open, and I know before even checking the rest of the house, that Suzie is gone. The emptiness feels louder than it should, the echoes of her absence pressing into me like a physical being.
It makes no sense. I've only just met the woman, but the way Pete's spoken about her has made it something more. Something real .
I make my way to the living room, where I find Pete sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. His broad shoulders, usually a source of strength, are hunched, his breaths shallow and uneven.
I hate seeing him like this. Pete's always been the unshakable one—the man who stood firm when my world felt like it was crumbling around me. But right now, he looks like he's barely holding it together, and it twists something deep inside me.
I clear my throat, trying to loosen the tightness in my chest. My voice comes out rough, scraping against the quiet. "Do you think she's alright?"
Pete's head snaps up, and the sight of his face hits me like a punch to the gut. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face pale and drawn, every inch of him radiating guilt and pain.
He lets out a sound, low and broken, that barely resembles his usual voice. "I don't know, Dex. She didn’t answer when I phoned. I keep replaying it in my head, trying to figure out what we did wrong—how we made her feel like she had to leave."
The rawness of his words cuts deep, each one twisting the knife of my own guilt.
"I don't think we did anything wrong, baby." I drop down into the armchair opposite him, running a hand through my hair as my helplessness at not being able to make this better for him wraps tighter around me. "I just think she wasn't ready for this. For us," I say, my hurt and frustration bleeding into the words. "We might need to give her a little time, and then go back in, and prove to her we're serious. We can't push too hard now."
Pete flinches, his hands raking through his hair as his shoulders sag further. "But what if our silence makes her think this was just a one-night stand for us?" His voice is quiet, but laced with a simmering panic, one I need to put a stop to.
"Stop, baby." I grab for his hand, squeezing it, and tugging on it to get him to... I don't know, come to me? Look at me? Anything to get him out of the spiral of self-doubt he's settling into.
"Stop what, Dex?" Pete surges to his feet, pulling me with him, so we're face to face. He towers over me, his jaw clenched, his eyes fierce and filled with pain. "Stop feeling like I failed her again? Stop thinking about running out of here and hunting her down so she can know exactly how much I care about her?"
I meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes a reflection of my own turmoil.
There was a time where I'd thought his love for me would play second fiddle to his clear devotion to Suzie, but he's proven to me, time and time again that I mean the world to him too. My turmoil isn't born of jealousy or any ill will toward Suzie. I've fallen for her through his stories about her. The mess of my emotions is built from a mix of anxiety for his mental well-being, and worry over Suzie and what is going on in her mind.
I let out a sharp breath, trying to get control of everything as I pull him down onto the couch he'd been on. "So we plan. We let her know we're thinking of her, and we wait."
Pete's expression finally softens, the tension easing as he settles in, his hand landing on my thigh. "We show her she means something to us, that we're not going anywhere. She needs to feel safe enough to come back to us."
The quiet hope in his voice is almost my undoing. I turn my head and rest it on his shoulder, hoping to share some of my strength with him.
"She will, baby," I murmur, the words thick with emotion. "How can she not? You were made for her."
Pete's hand tightens on my thigh, a silent rebuke. " She was made for us ."
When I turn to look at him again, the grief at her sudden loss and hope of her return mingling in his expression mirrors my own.
Without thinking, I reach for him, my hand gripping the back of his neck as I pull him down.
The kiss is soft, hesitant, and full of everything we can't put into words. It's not about passion—it's about anchoring ourselves to something solid, something real, in the face of all this uncertainty.
Pete responds, his lips pressing against mine as his hands find my arms, holding on as if I'm the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
When we pull back, his forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet. “Thanks," he murmurs, his voice rough but now filled with the strength and steely resolve I'm used to from him.
I nod, my fingers brushing over the back of his neck as I find my voice again. "We'll wait for her, Pete. You've already waited, so this is nothing new. And when she's ready, we'll be here. Together."
The weight of the moment lingers between us, heavy but no longer suffocating. It's not a solution, but it's something—a fragile hope we can cling to. And for now, it has to be enough.
"But we can try phone her again, right? Let her know this wasn't a once-off thing?"
A smile splits across my face at his hopeful request.
"Yes, baby. Call her." I take a breath and climb onto him, straddling his lap. “Later.” I claim his mouth in a kiss, doing my best to distract him, and myself.
It doesn’t take much before I can feel him hardening underneath me.
With the promise of a little more with him, and the hope of even more with Suzie on the horizon, I lose myself in the feel of the man underneath me.