Chapter Twenty-Two
EDDIE
I don’t recognize myself.
The me I’d been for fourteen years would have backed away. Would have thanked him for the speech, changed the subject, made tea, and rebuilt the walls brick by careful brick.
This me? This me is done hiding.
Grabbing his hand, I lead him down the hallway in the opposite direction of Joey’s bedroom. Opening the laundry room door, I yank him inside and quietly close it. Then, I push his hoodie up, palms skimming warm skin. He hisses in a breath, eyes darkening.
Eddie…
I missed you so much, I say, voice shaking. I want you here. In all of it. No more halfway.
His answering groan goes straight through me.
He lets me lead. For once, I don’t feel like I have to wait and see what he wants first.
I tug his hoodie off. He helps me out of my sweater. We find each other again in a tangle of hands and mouths and whispered, fractured assurances.
I’ve got you, he murmurs as he presses me against the wall.
No, I whisper back, braver than I’ve ever been. We’ve got each other.
Clothes fall away, forgotten. The world outside shrinks until it’s just this room. This man keeps showing up, even when I tried to push him away.
When he slides his hands down my sides, when I shift over him, when we find a rhythm that feels like coming home, it isn’t just about bodies.
I love you, I say, breathless, the words tearing free without hesitation this time.
His eyes burn into mine. Say it again.
I do. Over and over.
Later, after we’ve had a family dinner and said good night to Joey, we lie tangled together, skin damp, breaths gradually evening out. His fingers trace idle patterns on my hip. I listened to his heartbeat under my ear, steady and sure.
For the first time since the stories broke, my chest feels calm.
The storm is still out there. But I’m not weathering it alone.