Chapter 60 Harriet
SIXTY
HARRIET
By the time we arrive at the cottage, it’s the middle of the night.
Warren didn’t fight me or Marcus when we drove him back to the hospital to get properly checked out before being discharged again.
The adrenaline ebbs once we enter the bathroom, both muddied and bone-tired. Despite the day he’s had, he’s the one who’s asked no less than one-hundred times if I’m okay. I see the words forming on his lips again as we stand in front of the mirror.
I’m exhausted, and my chest still aches from Warren’s string of confessions. I worried he was spiraling at first, but I think speaking the truth of his past and visiting their gravestone healed a neglected part of himself.
Steam fills the bathroom from the running shower.
“I promise you, I’m fine,” I tell his reflection before turning to him. “Arms up.”
A flash of surprise paints his face before he obeys. I strip him out of the blue hospital scrubs and frown at the mottled skin on his ribcage. My fingertips hover over the bruises.
“They’ll heal.” He tugs on the hem of my T-shirt. “You next.”
We rid ourselves of our clothes, movements gentle and slow, before ducking under the warm spray of water.
There’s nothing sexual about the way we wash each other. It’s about care. From day one, Warren has inexplicably cared for me while carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Today and every day forward, I’ll do the same.
Sudsy water swirls between us, and when all the grime washes away and our tense muscles loosen with the scent of lavender, we embrace.
My growing baby bump makes it awkward, but we manage.
No words are exchanged. The thumping of our hearts, echoing off the other, repeats the sentiments spoken hours earlier.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
We move to the bedroom, and Warren situates himself against the stack of pillows and gestures for me to lie between his spread legs.
“What about your ribs?”
He pats the mattress. “Let me hold you.”
I maneuver myself until my back settles against his front, careful of my weight. He wraps me up in his arms, one over my heart, one on our baby.
“I mean it, you know,” I murmur into the crook of his elbow. “I’m not going anywhere. Through thick or thin, I’m here.”
He sighs into my damp hair. “I know that now, and perhaps that’s why it was so difficult to tell you everything. The fear of losing you…I can’t even verbalize it.”
I twist to look at him. “We don’t want to lose you either. Which is why I need you to speak to me whenever it gets tough. Silence has been your sanctuary for so long, but let me be the safe space you turn to now.”
He tightens his hold. “I swear it.”
I believe him. Warren is nothing if not a man of his word, and while opening up isn’t easy, it’s the effort he puts in that speaks volumes.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you. Always.”
Sleep comes easy. My alarm goes off every two hours, reminding me to check on Warren, who grumbles each time I rouse him. His grumpy, sleepy state doesn’t stop the wealth of kisses he gifts me with before he falls asleep again.
He’s signed off work until his ribs heal, and I’ve already texted Jimmy asking for an extended leave of absence.
Quiet and time away from the world is what we need.
Warren holding me is what I need.
Unconditional love is what he needs.