Chapter 29 #2
He nods. “You’re so different to my brain. I’m taking advantage of the peace you bring me. It’s not right to keep you this close. I’m never going to have someone. You will. And then you’ll have to explain me to them. That’s not fair to you.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’ll fall in love, move out to be with them, make some kind of life together. And I’ll be here. Still. Like I was before you came.” He sinks his fingers into his hair, gripping the roots. “I need to stop relying on you as though you’re actually my wife. Nes is right. What am I doing?”
Panic swells, beating against my heart, as terror latches around my throat.
I don’t want to lose what we have.
I like what we have.
The quiet of it is so…so…gentle. Kind. Life-giving.
The ability to rely on someone else, so completely, is a gift, and it’s one I’ve never had before.
No one else will ever be so familiar.
No one else will ever feel so safe.
“Do you…not want a real wife?” I ask around the bundle of nerves strangling me.
He laughs, acerbically. Shaking his head, he says, “I don’t think I’m supposed to be loved like that, Citrus.”
My heart breaks. “Why not?”
His shoulders rise and fall. “Even your game didn’t make me an option.”
“But…do you want to be an option?”
He lets his hand fall back through his hair to rub his neck.
Leaning against the couch cushions, he blows out a breath.
“I can’t picture it. I don’t know what it looks like to love someone and be loved by them without pressure or fear or selfishness getting in the way.
I can’t imagine what it feels like to be someone’s…
partner.” His eyes close. “The people I care about don’t know I do, because I don’t know how to show it, because even though I care about them, I don’t feel safe enough to go out of my way to prove it.
They don’t make me feel the way…the way you do.
” His eyes open, find me, linger. Watching, cautious, he says, “The first time we went to the mines, I thought I’d be protecting you, but you launched yourself headfirst into everything, barely giving me the chance to help.
Your confidence and kindness has baffled me from that first moment, and I figured it had to be a plot, and you weren’t telling the truth, but even your devious plans were ultimately harmless and endearing.
Your willingness to step forward without hesitation…
scares me. I can’t stop seeing you like a mirror.
I can’t stop thinking that you would have heard Aurelia’s scream and charged, just like I did that night on the outskirts of the city.
Because even though people terrify you, too, that doesn’t stop you from trying to reach them.
” His lips part. “Even though you weren’t raised in a world that gave you any reason to believe you’d ever get back what you give, that doesn’t stop you… from loving everything around you.”
While I’m stuck on where he implied I possess confidence, he freezes.
Thoughts run over his face as his attention flicks across me in my blanket bundle.
His throat bobs. His eyes widen. His mouth opens.
It stays open for almost an entire minute, or maybe it just feels that long because of how fast my heart is beating.
When he finally composes himself, it’s like a lightning strike.
His mouth closes, and he’s on his feet. “Sorry,” he breathes.
“I’m rambling while you don’t feel well. ”
“Oh, no. It’s okay. I—”
He dodges Yami to scoop me up off the couch, blanket and all. Rocking me against his broad chest, he turns on his heel and heads for his room—which I hope means we’re sleeping together again. I won’t survive the night if he tucks me in then promptly heads to camp it out in my farmhouse.
“Samson, I’m fine, promise. The medicine is magic, probably literally.”
“Where’d you put your mug?” he asks, setting me down in bed.
“Um, on the floor by the couch.”
He nods, sharp. “Do you want more tea?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine, really.”
He nods again, and turns.
My heart lurches, and my hand lunges, catching his shirt.
“Wh-where are you going? Please don’t sleep in my farmhouse.
It probably has bugs. Mice! You’ll get a horrible disease.
” I start to get up. “We don’t have to share your bed if you don’t want to anymore.
I’ll sleep with Yami in the other room. Tsuki can come in here.
It’ll be great. You’ll have a cuddle buddy still. ”
Samson places me firmly back in bed, tucking my fuzzy blanket around my neck. “Do you mind sleeping here with me?”
My face heats. “N-no.”
“Then I’m just going to get you your toothbrush and a cup of water, so you can brush your teeth.”
I blink. “I can stand, Samson. You don’t have to go through that extra trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“But—”
“You are no trouble.” His stern look has me settling back in bed.
Tangible relief consumes me when we’ve both brushed our teeth, he’s reheated my warm pack, and he’s climbed into bed beside me. Having this slice of normal eases the panic swirling in my stomach. Naturally, as I have for the past few weeks, I roll toward him, awaiting an embrace that doesn’t come.
In the darkness, I feel him tense when I graze his arm, then I realize the strangest thing.
He…is wearing a shirt.
Anxiety spikes anew. I don’t know what to do with this information. I’m not sure what concerns me more—the break from routine or the fact he’s flinching at my touch. Have I done something wrong? Did what Ines said make him realize how very weird it is for us to share a bed platonically?
Has he realized that it’s a teeny-tiny bit less platonic for me, given how terribly in love with him I am and all?
That must be it.
With Ines’s prompting, he’s put it together.
He’s too kind to reject me outright, while I’m on my period, so he’s bearing with it, trying to figure out how to let me down easy. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of him, make him suffer because of me, force him to carry yet another emotional burden.
In order to, what?
Spare my feelings a few extra moments?
It’s going to hurt no matter how gently he puts his no.
I’ll just need to…get over it. See if I can’t spare our friendship. After all, heartbreak is silly when I’ve never been in a relationship before. Losing him as a friend, though, losing everything we’ve been through so far, that would kill me.
“Citrus?” he whispers into the bleak darkness.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace myself for the worst. “Yes?”
Silence.
It’s heavy.
Then, it’s broken.
“Do you feel safe with me?” he asks.
Do I…
I am a small woman. He is a large man. Does he… Is he aware of that? I’d have to feel safe to fall asleep around him. Maybe that’s not common sense, so I say, “Yes. Completely.”
“So, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you?”
Oh.
Right.
I forgot.
This is how he’s letting me down easy.
How dreadfully flighty my mind is…
Swallowing hard, I say, “Y-yeah. I know you’d never do anything to intentionally hurt me.”
His weight shifts on the mattress as he turns toward me. The somehow darker, blurry outline of him consumes my vision. “No, Citrus. Neither intentionally nor accidentally. I would never hurt you.”
My heart squeezes. “How can you know that for sure?”
“Because.” Warmth soaks into my skin as his hand finds my cheek, cups it, cajoles. “I am committed to giving you every consideration. You deserve nothing less.”
Tentative, my fingers find his wrist, and I hold his heat to me. “You…are the kindest man I have ever known. The kindest person. I hardly know what I’ve done to deserve any of it.”
He draws nearer, kissing my forehead. The action eases the tingle of panic racing across my clammy skin.
I soak it in, desperate to remove the fear suggesting it’s the last mindless caress I’ll ever get from him.
His lips move, soft against me. His stubble scratches as he speaks.
“You are you. That’s enough to deserve everything.
” His breath fans into my hairline. “What Ines was saying earlier…”
I tense.
“I’m sorry. She’s blunt. Headstrong. If what she implied earlier made you uncomfortable at all, please tell me.”
What she implied earlier? About…us getting married?
I am deeply curious whether or not she’s actually working on a wedding dress covered in lace lemons. Probably not, right? The entire conversation was a cruel joke, wasn’t it? That’s what happens when people go off script—they get confusing, and often cruel.
I ask, “Did anything she said make you uncomfortable?”
He deadpans, “Most of what she says makes me uncomfortable. She has a unique gift for that.” His huffing breath runs across my cheek. “But…this…” He lets his hand slip from my cheek, down my arm, to my waist. “This is okay?” He reels me in, carefully. “Still?”
As relief floods, I say, “Of course.”
His lips graze the top of my head, and I swear relief floods into him, too. “Good.” Apprehension leaves him, and his body swallows me up.
He’s still wearing a stupid shirt, but I am cuddled properly against it, tucked safely in his arms. No matter what happens, whatever trials or monsters I face in the future, no matter how difficult anything I come across is, I know only losing this would hurt more than I’d be able to bear.