Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
AMAY
Much later, Amay walked out of his bathroom to find Dhrithi sitting on the side of his bed. Her hair lay in damp tangles down her back, wetting her t-shirt and dripping onto the sheet. Her face looked pale, exhaustion coating her like an extra skin.
“Everything okay?” he asked her.
She didn’t answer for a moment, her gaze brimming with a multitude of emotions.
“Dhrithi.” He took a step forward, alarm spiking within him. “What-“
“I don’t want to sleep in the guest bedroom.” The words spewed out of her in a flood. “I want to sleep here, with you.”
“There is nothing in the world I would like more than to wake up with you in my arms for the rest of my life,” he admitted, leaning down to cup her cheek and plant a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Really?” Her hand came up to grip his wrist, her slender fingers wrapping around them.
“Really.” He pressed his forehead to hers, the clean, citrus scent of her body wash filling his lungs as he inhaled. “Don’t you know how gone I am for you, Dhriths? I have been since the day I saw you standing on those school steps rescuing that butterfly.”
“So, what you’re really saying is … you’re the acid to my base?”
He laughed, his eyes opening to meet her own amused ones. “I’m whatever you want me to be, baby. As long as I am with you, it’s enough for me.”
Her fingers tightened around his wrist, a haunting sadness filling her eyes, draining the laughter from it. “I have a long haul ahead of me.”
“And I’ll be with you, every step of the way,” he promised. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’m there.”
“On one condition.” She fell back on the bed, taking him with her.
He braced himself on his forearms, levering himself up so his weight didn’t rest on her. “Name it,” he said, tucking a wayward lock of her hair behind one ear.
“You don’t treat me like I’m damaged or fragile. I don’t think I could bear it if pity formed the base of our relationship.”
Amay stilled. “I promise you one thing, Dhrithi Sahay, the only thing I see when I look at you is strength. You are not a victim. You are a survivor. And most importantly, you are mine.”
“I am,” she whispered, arching up beneath him. “I love you Amay.”
He stilled, the words filtering through him, a golden warmth spreading through his very soul.
“You are my family, my home, my safe space. You are all I want from life, now and forever.”
“You are all I’ve ever wanted,” he told her, kissing her gently and deeply. “I love you Dhrithi and I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”
Dhrithi moaned, tilting her head back and trying to deepen the kiss. Amay broke away, sweating with the pressure of staying in control and not taking more than she was ready to give.
“Amay,” she whispered.
“I, um,” he murmured. “Think we should take it slow.”
“Slow?” She stared at him. “SLOW??”
Amay winced, that last screech might have punctured his eardrums.
“How much slower?” she asked. “We’ve already been waiting years!”
Amay laughed at her petulant reaction. “How about a compromise?”
“What like second base and no further?” she asked sullenly.
“No, you little brat. How about we have a safe word? Anytime you feel uncomfortable, you use it and I’ll stop immediately.”
“I don’t need a safe word, Amay. This is you and me.”
“Humour me,” he murmured, kissing her pouting mouth before nipping at the sensitive skin against her jawline. He continued to kiss his way down her body, gentle, soft kisses, all the way until her sensitive core. He could feel how hot and wet she was, for him. He couldn’t believe they were here in this moment. Dhrithi and he finally had a shot at a life together.
“Acid,” she gasped, her hand clenching in his hair. “My safe word. It’s acid.”
“Damn, Dhriths,” he chuckled. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down.” He glanced up at her and saw the glazed, feverish glint in her eyes. “Way down,” he said as he kissed her core, an open-mouthed kiss, his gaze still holding hers.
She moaned as her hips arched off the bed, one hand gripping his hair, the other clenched in the bedsheet.
“Too much?” he asked as he licked her through the thin, cotton fabric of her shorts.
“You know what your problem is, Ams?” she asked, her breath coming in short, hard pants.
“What?”
“You talk too much.”
Laughter burst out of him, even as helpless giggles erupted from her. It was a gift. To feel so loved, so secure with your partner, that you could laugh through the most intimate moments of life, it was a gift that was immeasurably precious. And one he would never take for granted.
After that they didn’t talk for a long time. No words were exchanged but a million promises were made, a hundred hopes were nurtured, and two scarred, battered hearts finally found their way back to each other.