Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rygaard
July
It’s been almost six weeks since Presley’s been under my roof and in my care. She’s doing better than anyone could have imagined.
Watching her from the kitchen window, soaking up the hot Texas sun, I think about how we got here.
At first, everything was great. She was in good spirits, eager to get back on her feet and take control of her life.
But then we started weaning her off the hospital meds, and the recreational stuff slowly flushed from her system. That changed everything.
She hated us, wished we were dead, wished she were dead. She didn’t understand how we could be so cruel.Yada yada.We’d heard it all before. And no matter how much she begged, pleaded, or cried, we couldn't give in to her darkness.
Looking at her now, I’m so damn glad we didn’t.
She’s been seeing her therapist twice a week, sometimes more if she needs it.
My Princess still has a long road ahead of her, but she’s a tough, little thing. Not only is therapy going well, but so is her physical therapy for her busted leg. Most days she’s on her crutches. Some days, when she’s more tired, I make her use the walker, no matter how much she protests.
"I look like somebody’s fucking grandma," she mumbled once, while I fought to keep a straight face.I had to remind her that little ole grandmas didn’t cuss like sailors.She flipped me off and smiled, and that smile told me everything was going to be okay.
Today, I took the day off because it’s her six-week anniversary, and I wanted to make it special.
Started it right with breakfast in bed, which, of course, she fought me tooth and nail. But I won. She thinks I don’t have a soft spot for her anymore. If only she knew how bad I actually have it.
Tonight, I’m going to show her.
I begged her to let me pamper her today, and even pulled some strings to cancel both her therapy sessions so I could have her all to myself.
Watching her has always been one of my favorite things. When I was forced to stay away, it drove me mad not being able to see her like I was used to.
Now that she’s back, I’m making up for lost time. I don't even pretend to hide it anymore.I just can’t get enough of her.
Even though it’s blistering hot, she’s still wearing baggy clothes. I think I know why.
Tonight, I’m going to show her that I love her body, the scars, the bruises, the stretch marks, all of it.
“Might as well come out if you’re just gonna stare at me like the creeper you are," she calls out, making me smile.
At the kitchen island, I load up a tray: a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade, two glasses, and a small vase filled with sunflowers, her favorite.
I grab the meat, cheese, fruit, and cracker board I made earlier, set it carefully beside everything, and jog to my office for the blanket I set aside.
Satisfied I have it all, I head outside and spread the blanket across the grass.“Will this be okay for your leg?” I call out to her.
"Ry Ry, what are you doing?" she asks, using the nickname I used to hate, but now, I feel like I waited a lifetime to hear her say it again.
“Answer me, Prez. Will this hurt your leg?”
She scrunches up her nose, thinking. “Nah, it'll be fine. I'm relearning how to sit with my legs crossed. This’ll help.” She sticks her hand out. “Can you help me up?”
“Absolutely.” I stride to her and slip my hand into hers, but instead of just helping her up, I scoop her into my arms.
Her squeals make me chuckle. "Ry, what do you think you're doing? I can walk, you know."
"I know you can, Princess. Doesn't mean I can't carry you when I want to." I grin down at her. God, she’s even more beautiful than she’s ever been."You're gorgeous," I breathe out.
She flushes deep red and tries to look away. "You can't say things like that," she whispers.
"Why not?"
"Because…" Her lip trembles. "I can’t go through another heartbreak, Ry. You don’t know what it did to me."
"I do know. And I’m done letting you shut me out.
It ends here."Without giving her a chance to argue, I crash my lips onto hers. My hand slips behind her head, holding her to me. She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she wraps her arms around my neck, giving me better access to taste everything I’ve been starving for.
She feels like home.
Like mine.
I kiss her like I’ll never get another chance, and even then, it won’t be enough.
I lower her onto the blanket, our mouths still fused together, until she gently pushes me away. "No. We can’t," she whispers.
I nod, forcing myself to back off even though every part of me is screaming otherwise. "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have... I just miss you so damn much. And when the opportunity came, I took it."
She smiles up at me, sweet and radiant. "Clearly," she teases, then chuckles. “So... are you going to tell me what all this is?” she asks, sitting up carefully.
“This," I say, spreading my arms out, "is a celebration. A reward for all the progress you’ve made."
"A reward? For cussing all of you out and wishing you dead?" she smirks.
I laugh. "Well, when you put it like that, you were a real brat, Presley. But you’ve come so far. We only ever wanted what’s best for you."
"I know," she says softly. "Progress," she cheers herself, grinning.
"You heard me mention a reward..."
Her eyes light up. "There's more?"
I head inside and grab the charcuterie board, placing it in the middle of the blanket. “Be right back,” I tell her.
“There’s more ?” she giggles as I jog back inside.
“Of course there is. Only the best for my Princess.”
I set down the tray with the lemonade and glasses beside us. Watching her flush under my gaze, a thought strikes me.
“Do you have a praise kink, Prez?” I tease.
She immediately starts nibbling her nails, shy and nervous. She doesn’t have to be. Not with me.Not ever again.
“I dunno,” she mumbles, popping a cheese cube into her mouth.
“Uh huh. We’ll revisit that later. For now, let’s enjoy this.”
"Ry," she warns gently.
"Presley," I counter, "I meant what I said. I'm spending the rest of forever making things right, and it started the day you walked back into my life." I cup her cheek. "Now shut up and let me take care of you."
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, giving in. "Fine," she grumbles. "But just so you know, I-"
"You what ? You're going to be a good girl for me?" I say, my voice low and teasing.
Her body softens visibly, her cheeks turning pink. "Okay," she whispers.
"That's my girl." I pour her a glass of lemonade and hand it to her. “At the end of the night,” I say, more serious now, “I want you to start reading my letters.”
"I don’t know if I can, Ry."
"You can. You will . You need to know everything that happened after I left."
She hesitates... then nods. "Okay. I’ll read them."
"Good." I grin. "Now, let's eat."
For the rest of the evening, we eat, laugh, stroll around the house, and later curl up to watch a movie under the stars.
Before bed, I carry a box into her room, the box of letters I wrote her during the time we were apart.
"I want, no, I need you to read these," I say, placing them on the bed.
"I need you to know I never would’ve left you voluntarily.
" She opens her mouth to respond, but I silence her with a gentle touch to her lips.
"Just read them, Prez," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead before walking away.
Instead of going to my room, I hop in my truck and drive, needing to clear my head.
Eventually, I find myself at my office. I park, head inside, and lose myself in work for a few hours.
When I finally check my phone, I find a few texts from her:
10:00 PM – My Princess: I heard you leave. Hope it wasn’t because of me.
10:15 PM – My Princess: Your silence kinda says it was.
10:30 PM – My Princess: Well, I’m gonna start reading these letters now.
1:05 AM – My Princess: Ry Ry ??
The last one guts me.
I slam my laptop shut, hop in my truck, and race home.
I punch in the code, race up the stairs, and push open her door.
She’s snoring, loudly, and I can’t help but chuckle. My girl knows how to snore. Pulling a chair from her vanity, I drag it next to her bed and sit down.
Judging by the letters scattered everywhere, she read a good bit. They’ve been in order, since the day I left her life behind.
I don’t want to think about what she might be feeling right now. I just want to be here.
Watching over her.
The way I always should’ve been.
Eventually, my eyelids grow heavy and I drift off, dreaming of a future where she’s always right here, within reach.