Chapter 23
Blakelyn
My classroom smells like whiteboard markers, paper, and nerves.
I stand at the front of the room in my favorite pair of flats, my lanyard swinging against my chest, watching my sixth-period kids file out like they’ve been set free from a weeklong sentence.
It’s hot and I haven’t stopped thinking about him since the second I woke up this morning, since the second he kissed me goodbye like it hurt.
Not a brush of lips. Not a graze. A real kiss. A real goodbye , even though it wasn’t one.
Gruene Cavanaugh said he loved me over a week ago with his hands bleeding and his body shaking and his voice scraped raw. I said it back. I meant it like I’ve never meant anything before. We’ve said it again. More than once. But it’s almost like we don’t know what the hell to do with it.
He drove me to school yesterday and this morning. I’ve slept in his bed every night since. He’s stayed beside me. Every night. He hasn’t left. Neither have I. I don’t think he wants to. I don’t.
We’re circling something we already admitted, already consumed . But we haven’t spoken about what it really means. I don’t know. I don’t think he does either.
But where does that leave us?
Do we just… go on?
“Miss Walker?”
I glance up. One of my quietest girls, Sophie, is lingering by my desk. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
She shifts her folder against her chest and says, “Are you okay?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“You looked kind of sad today. So, I just wanted to check on you.”
She’s so sweet.
God, I want to tell her I’m not.
That I’m just tired.
But I don’t. The things I carry are too heavy for a child.
And I’m not sad. I’m not.
I’m in love with man who loves me back. A broken, beautiful man who accepts that I’m broken, too.
But the past and the ugly parts of it are still there.
“I’m okay, sweetie,” I tell her gently. “But thank you for checking. That’s very sweet of you.”
She nods and ducks out and I exhale and sit at my desk, resting my head in my hands.
It’s been eight days since Tyler showed up. Eight days since he was arrested.
It’s quiet in the empty hall. Too quiet.
As I wait for Gruene to come pick me up, I sit behind my desk.
He didn’t ask, we didn’t talk about it. We just go to his cabin every night. He brings me to and from work, like he’s scared I’ll just drive past the school and out of town.
That’s not true. He doesn’t think that. He’s being loving, supportive, and protecting. And I love it. I value it. It’s just so… different.
He’s trying. But behind it all, I can see he still has a fear that I’ll leave. That I’ll regret this. Regret him.
Never.
My phone lights up.
Gruene
I’m here.
Ready or do you need a few minutes?
I don’t respond, I just grab my things and walk out. The brutal Texas heat greets me, but I smile as I see him just out front, waiting in the truck. He gets out when he sees me and opens the door.
He came straight from the river. His shirt is soaked through with sweat, it clings to the ridges of muscle and scars on his back. His hands are slick but the bandages across his knuckles are gone. Only small scabs and new, pink skin remain as reminders of him breaking Tyler’s face and ribs.
Leaning over, I cup his cheek, looking at the dark circles under his tired eyes. They widen. “Are you okay?” he asks.
He’s still haunted, but he’s not carrying the weight of his family anymore.
This is new weight. Fear for me, about what almost happened.
He carries in all those beautiful, broken eyes.
I kiss his mouth, softly. His lips cling for a second.
When I pull back, he sighs. “I’m fine. Better than fine.
I love you. But Gruene, you’ve been checking all the boxes,” I say, walking closer.
“Making sure I’m safe. That I’m fed. That we lock the doors.
You’re doing all the right things. But are you really here , Gruene?
I am. I’m right here. In front of you. Are you” I smooth the lines in his forehead with my fingertips.
“Or are you lost in that head of yours again?”
He inhales, deeply. Then, he exhales. “I’m here. I am. I just—I don’t know how to do this, Blakelyn. I don’t. But I am here. I’m trying because I love you, too,” he mutters.
My heart swells.
He is. He’s trying.
I swallow hard. “Then, let me show you.”
He looks at me like I’m sunlight and poison all at once.
“You think you want this.. want me…” he says. “But I’m not wired for gentle anymore.”
“I never wanted you to be gentle, Gruene” I say, leaning closer on the seat.
“I just want you to be real… to be here… and you are.” He flinches and I run my thumb along his cheek.
He turns his face further into my palm. “I love you. I loved you when you were pushing me away. I loved you when you held me in the dirt and said it back. I love you now, even though you’re trying to disappear into yourself again.
” My heart cracks wide open. “So, you have a choice… you can keep hiding in the mess of your head,” I whisper.
“Or you can let me love you in the mess , in the ruin, in the scars. But you have to let me.”
Silence stretches between us.
He leans forward, grabs me like he’s drowning and I’m the lifeboat, and he kisses me like I’m the air he forgot he needed.
It’s not pretty. It’s not soft. It’s desperate.
His hands are in my hair at the back of my neck, anchoring me.
His mouth is everywhere as he kisses the sides of my lips, my cheekbones, my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and then, he returns to me mouth groaning against it, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Blakelyn.
But I can’t fucking stop loving you. Or needing you. ”
“Then… don’t,” I whisper.
He kisses me again and this time, he doesn’t let go.
Gruene
I don’t let go of her… not when she breaks the kiss and gasps for enough air to fill her lungs… not when she blinks up at me like I’m still halfway to vanishing… not when the air around us shifts into something raw and irreversible.
She loves me.
She calls me on my shit.
She sees me even when I’m trying to fold myself into the past.
I’ve got nothing left to hide behind.
So… I’ll keep holding her.
One hand is on the nape of her neck. The other is on her lower back. Her breath is ragged against my throat.
“I don’t want to be afraid of this anymore,” she whispers. “Not of you. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just afraid of losing you.”
Oh, Blakelyn.
“You don’t have to be. I’m here. I’m in this, Blakelyn. I love you.”
I feel her nod, just barely but it’s the truth underneath that scares the hell out of me.
I’m the one that’s scared shitless… not of losing her.
I’m afraid I already have, and she’s just too brave to leave me yet.
I’m afraid that when she realizes how strong she really is, she will leave because she can.
That she’ll see how broken and damaged I am and decide I’m not worth it.
And if she does… I will not be able to take it.
I cannot lose another woman I love.
I press my forehead to hers. She smells like chalkboard dust and grapefruit body spray and something I can’t name that feels like home . It guts me.
“Come on,” I rasp. “I need to get you home. We’re in my truck in front of the damn school.”