Chapter 36
C oconut and vanilla.
It was the first thing I registered before I felt the unruly pounding of my heart and the fear crawling through my veins and gripping at my neck. Just as I realized how tense my body was, I felt hers . Wrapped up in my arms. One hand pressed to my strained chest, the other grasping my trembling arm like she was trying to comfort me.
“You’re okay,” she breathed just before lips passed across my forehead.
And for just a moment, I let myself stay trapped in my loathing of this darkness that haunted me—of what I might’ve done.
As if knowing that I was trying not to drown in the worry of what ifs , a forehead pressed to mine next before the whispered promise, “ I’m okay,” passed over my lips.
I tightened my grip on her in response but didn’t respond. Not just yet.
I waited as I thought through what I could remember of the flashbacks—not much—and if I could remember getting in here. As always, I couldn’t. But somehow, I had, and I should’ve known I would because Chloe was here.
Forcing my eyes open, I found hazel eyes waiting for me. Soft, open, and full of so much understanding and love. Bringing me right back to the last time I’d woken up to this, months ago.
Every night of our trip to Aruba, I’d had an episode.
I’d been sure after the first night, Briggs would’ve demanded I get a separate room to keep Kaia safe. Instead, he’d just studied me for a while before suggesting, “Maybe you should just share a bed with Chloe,” since that’s where I’d woken up. Gripping her to me like, even in sleep, I’d been afraid she’d be taken from me.
I hadn’t taken his advice.
But the next morning and the next and the next, I’d woken in her bed. Clinging to her and terrified that I’d hurt her or everyone else around me.
So, as promised, I’d begun seeing a new therapist once we got home. This therapist hadn’t shoved prescriptions at me and had actually tried helping. In all honesty, he had helped. It was now surprising to wake up in a different room of my apartment, when before, it had been just another day .
But I should’ve known that worry of what I might do would overwhelm me once I was in a house with people again. Not just people, but her .
“What’d I do?”
Chloe’s head moved against mine before she leaned back to better look at me. “You were just... you .”
My jaw ached from the pressure I was putting on it. “Meaning?”
She drew in a deep breath, then looked off to the side of my childhood bedroom. “I dunno about before you got in here. When I woke up, you were moving through the room, mumbling to yourself. I’m sure you thought you were overseas because it looked like you were clearing the room. Then you slipped into bed and said, ‘I got her.’”
My head bounced subtly at her explanation that was eerily similar to every night in Aruba.
“But,” she added, excitement lacing her tone, “that was hours ago.”
My absentminded nodding stopped at the unexpected words, and my eyes searched hers.
“It was completely dark when I first woke up,” she went on, glancing briefly to where light could be seen coming in behind the curtains. “I fell back asleep after you did until I felt you tense a few minutes ago.”
“Fell asleep...like this.” The words left me on more of a confused statement than a question. I always woke up mid-flashback, never after , and Chloe knew that. When her eyebrows just lifted in confirmation, I said, “That’s different.”
“That’s exciting,” she gently argued. “That’s huge progress.”
When my lips parted, she hurried to add, “Don’t tell me it’s dangerous, Adam. I know what you’re capable of, and I know what you’ve done before. But your subconscious clearly wants to keep me safe. You have to see that by now.”
I waited until I was sure she was done, the tension slowly easing out of my body as I listened to her adorable ramble. “I was just gonna agree with you, Bubbles.”
Her cheeks darkened just enough to catch my attention. “Oh. Well, good,” she whispered as she burrowed closer.
I curled my arm tighter around her, savoring the moment and the feel of her against me. Negating my words when I reminded her, “We still can’t do this though.”
Telling Chloe the depth of Owen Vance’s manipulations had been one thing—one very difficult thing. Getting her to believe them had been another. But I’d sworn to never be anything like him, and I vowed to prove it every day.
I was also determined to give her the relationship and life she’d wanted, regardless of what he’d coerced her into. Which meant we’d stayed far from bedrooms ever since Aruba, and there’d been plenty of nights where we’d ended up on opposite sides of the couch from each other.
She was worth it.
Besides, I’d learned dozens of things about her in these months that I was sure I wouldn’t have taken the time to if we hadn’t been taking it slow. Like that she hummed movie scores when she cooked and would choose a physical book over her Kindle any day. She preferred reading with her knees curled up to her chest and an iced coffee close by, and watching shows stretched out under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn, and she was absolutely the nerd her shirts claimed her to be.
She wanted to live in Huntley forever because she loved the feel and look of the town, and thought it was perfect for families. What happened with her sister had made her afraid to have kids for so long, but now, being a mom was what she wanted most. And watching her parents shed their robotic personas and transition into the distraught, angry strangers they’d become ever since Chloe gently tried revealing why they needed help was devastating to her. But she didn’t know how to give up on them, and I loved that about her.
I loved her. Wholly. Desperately.
Which is why we needed to leave this room.
“I know,” she whispered as she dropped her forehead to my chest, her words muffled when she added, “But you’re warm and comfy.”
A laugh scraped up my throat as I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “ Warm and comfy ,” I echoed dryly, “the prerequisites to dating an obsessive reader.”
Chloe just hummed in satisfied approval.
Lingering there, I felt my pulse kick back up for an entirely different reason as I let my thoughts drift to the nightstand drawer behind her. “And what are the prerequisites to marrying an obsessive reader?”
“Building me a library?—”
“You already have one.”
“— with a rolling ladder,” she continued over me, her voice still muffled by my chest.
“You do need a ladder,” I conceded, a tease slipping into my voice when I continued. “Or a stepstool. Do I wanna know how you reach the top half of the shelves?”
She pinched my side. “You’re ruining the warm and comfy part of this.”
A smile pulled at my mouth in response to the one in her voice.
Dipping my head to press another kiss to the top of hers, I spoke in a softer and more sober tone than before. “I have an idea that isn’t all that crazy...”
She tipped her head back, her brows scrunched together in question before amusement stole across her face. “You’re ridiculous,” she breathed, but the excitement in her eyes prompted me to continue.
“You could always marry me.”
A brilliant, genuine smile lit up her face that would’ve brought me to my knees if I hadn’t already been lying down. “Is that so?” When an affirming grunt left me, she playfully whispered, “I can’t just marry you.”
“And why’s that?” I stole a brief kiss, then asked against her lips, “Didn’t you say you needed to fall in love with me first?”
“I did,” she confirmed against the next kiss before whispering, “But it’s Christmas Eve.”
“Perfect timing.”
“And the news of us eloping would take away from Lainey and Asher’s wedding next week,” she added.
I made a face because she wasn’t wrong, I just didn’t want to admit it right then. “We could hold off telling everyone until later.”
Her body shook with her silent laughter. “Your friends aren’t here.”
“I don’t care,” I lied.
“Yes, you do.”
I shifted back and admitted, “Yeah, I kinda do.”
A knowing hum sounded in her throat before a whisper of worry settled in her eyes. Lifting one of her hands, she trailed the tips of her fingers along my temple as she gently said, “You’re afraid to even fall asleep in the same house as me.”
“Not sure that’ll ever change, Bubbles,” I told her honestly. “But you’re the only one I wanna face my demons with.”
Emotion shone in her eyes, showing just how much that one statement meant to her—how proud she was. “We can’t just elope,” she breathed, even as her eyebrows drew together in question. “Can we?”
“We can. But you deserve an actual wedding.”
A disagreeing sound caught in her throat, and I knew before she ever spoke what she was going to say. It was a conversation we’d had often, ever since Briggs and Lainey decided they wanted to go back to Aruba for their wedding.
“I don’t care about weddings,” she reminded me. “I care about this .” She placed her hand on my chest for emphasis. “I care about the life.”
I nodded because I knew that. I knew she was worried if her parents would even show, and if they did, she felt like she’d have to cater to them the entire time.
Still . . .
Unwrapping my arm from around her, I signed, And I care about what you deserve.
I studied her eyes as she intently watched my movements—slower than usual—her lips barely moving as she mouthed the words to herself. And my heart nearly escaped my chest when her gaze shifted back to me, admiration and love burning there, because I loved this girl.
I loved how, sometimes, she freely gave me all her emotions and thoughts, and others, it was a fight to get her to drop her mask. But the fight was always worth it when she fell into my arms like she’d just accomplished shedding a weight she hadn’t known how to escape from. I loved her unwavering confidence in me and support. I loved how perfectly she’d fit into my family and that she’d been determined to learn to sign for my dad.
Stealing one last kiss, I shifted over her, the corners of my mouth tipping up at the hushed giggle that left her as I opened the nightstand drawer and reached for the small, wrapped box I’d placed there when we’d arrived the day before.
Once I had it in my grasp, I sat on the bed and watched her eyes light up as she scrambled to sit up with me. Drowning in one of my sweatshirts. Red hair a mess from sleep. Never having looked more beautiful than she did right then.
“Christmas is tomorrow,” she reminded me as she scooted closer so her knees were pressed to mine.
My head dipped in acknowledgment as I tried making my throat work because every part of me knew what I said then would be the most important words of my life.
“Tell me you’ll marry me right here, right now, and I’ll gladly make it happen,” I began, the words thick and weighted. “Tell me in a week that you want to elope, and we will, and it’ll be the best day of my life.” I nodded again before slanting my head. “But as content as I was at the thought of never getting married, that was before you. And, Chloe, I desperately want to wait at the end of an aisle, just so I can watch you walk toward me, knowing I get to marry you when you reach me.”
Tears built in her eyes as she stared at me, and a soft sob broke from her when I signed, Open it .
She threw her arms around my neck instead, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that was all excitement and love and passion, and didn’t last nearly long enough.
But then she was shakily unwrapping the box, and I was sliding the ring onto her finger as I asked, “So, would marrying me be the craziest idea?”
“It just might be,” she whispered as she looked up at me, her eyes bright with tears and affection. “But I can’t wait to marry you.”
Curling my hand around the side of her neck, I pressed my thumb under her jaw and tipped her head back to better search her face. “This the real you, Bubbles?”
A muted sound that was part laugh, part cry tumbled free at the familiar question, and she reached up to grip my wrist. “What do you think?”
Pressing my forehead to hers, I let our lips brush when I answered, “That I love the real you.”