Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fallon
I don’t think I have ever eaten so fast in my life.
Today has been a complete whirlwind, but one thing was for sure: I needed Luke.
I’ve been known to fuck away my problems in the past, but this is different.
I didn’t just need sex. I needed him. And holy shit, that man didn’t disappoint.
He asked for the cheque the moment we stopped eating and whisked me away back to his place, where he did very bad things to me, including throwing me over his shoulder like he promised he would.
It was amazing.
But this, lying naked in his arms, is my favourite part.
I never thought I'd find this, comfort in another’s arms, but I have it with him.
One arm is under my head, whilst the other is draped across my stomach.
My own are following the intricate lines of the tattoos covering his chest. My current favourite is the words written below his heart.
It was then that I carried you.
“What does this one mean?” I ask, my voice breaking the silence.
He looks down to see which one I mean, as there are so many, it must be easy to get confused.
“Ah, that is actually a religious poem,” he smiles softly. “It’s something my grandmother always loved. I interpret it differently, though.”
“Tell me,” I beg. I want to know everything there is to know about this beautiful man.
“Basically, the poem describes a person who is talking to God and looking back on their life. In each vision, they see a set of footprints beside them that meant God was with them through it all. But, when they look back at the times they struggled the most, the footprints were gone. Confused, they ask God why they were alone when they needed them the most. To which he replies… ‘It was then that I carried you.’”
“I have never heard of that before, it's beautiful,” I tell him, my fingers still tracing the letters printed on him. “And what is your interpretation?”
“That instead of God, it’s the people we love the most who help to carry our burdens.”
His eyes drift, as if lost in thought, at times when he may have needed to rely on someone. There have been way too many to count when I have needed my girls. Especially Maya. That’s why I can't ask her to carry me anymore. That girl's shoulder has way too much to carry without me adding to it.
“I love it,” I whisper.
“Me too,” he adds, leaning to kiss the top of my head.
I lean my head against his chest, snaking my arms around his middle. He feels so warm and safe. A feeling I have never felt before. Maybe it is time I tell him a little about me after all.
“I’ve been through a lot growing up,” I start, and his body tenses beneath me.
He must be shocked I have broached the subject all by myself.
“And recently too.” I snort a laugh. His arms wrap around me tighter.
Breathing deep, I carry on. “Do you remember the night Maya was first rushed into the hospital? Well, a friend of ours was rushed in, too.”
“Yes, I think so. Harry, wasn’t it?” He asks, his voice low.
“Harry,” I murmur. “Harry was the sweetest man. He was funny, kind and a big part of our group. He could even cope with Blair's sarcasm, which is a hard feat.” I laugh, remembering our nights together. “The night he died… He was begging me to give him a chance at more.”
“Oh, Fallon…” Luke says, sympathy coating his words.
“No, Luke. Don’t feel sorry for me. You know what I’m like, or, what I used to be like. I shot him down, knowing how madly in love with me he was. I couldn’t even let him feel loved before he was taken away.”
“I’m sure he’d have rathered that than knowing you were with him out of pity. Have you carried this around since the accident?” He asks.
“Yes… But I deserve to. You know what, though? That’s not even the worst thing,” I admit. “There's a reason I'm so broken, why no one has been close to cracking through my shell, until now.”
He pulls away from me, just enough so he can see my face. I know he can see the tears shining in my eyes now, the way I’m forcing myself to speak, to open up to him. I really do want this, want him. I know that now. But I can’t have him until he has all of me.
“I was stuck in an abusive relationship when I was far too young, with a man who should never have put me in that position.” My voice is starting to wobble, the tears flowing at just the thought of those days of hell I lived through.
It feels like another life, yet also as if it were yesterday.
I can barely form the words to tell him the rest. “I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I can’t…”
“It’s okay,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. “It’s all okay. You’re here with me now. That’s enough for tonight.”
His fingers glide up and down my back, soothing me as I try to regulate my breathing. I wish I could tell him more, just how truly damaging it has all been, but I can't find the words. This is the most I have ever even attempted to tell anyone for such a long time.
And the thing is… I’m glad that it’s him.