Chapter 40
"Hey," he said softly, one hand settling instinctively against her waist. "Talk to me."
But instead of answering, Aria just buried her face against his shoulder.
And so quietly he almost missed it she said.
"...It was the worst."
Something inside him shifted immediately.
Because Aria didn't do this.
She didn't fall apart or ask for comfort.
Not anymore or at least not since he'd been back.
Without thinking about it, he shifted his chair back slightly and gently tugged at her until she settled into his lap, one arm wrapping securely around her waist while the other hand moved slowly up and down her back.
He asked no questions he was just holding her like the way he used to.
He stayed quiet for a while.
His chin rested lightly against the top of her head while his thumb traced absentminded circles against her side.
Something about having her there like this twisted painfully in his chest.
Because she looked wrecked, like something had cracked open.
Eventually, when her breathing steadied just enough, Chase leaned back slightly.
One hand moved gently to brush hair back from her face.
His thumb catching softly beneath her eye.
His hazel eyes searched hers immediately.
Concern all over his face now.
"Sweetheart..." His voice came quieter this time, softer. "Tell me what you need me to do here."
His forehead rested lightly against hers. "Tell me how I make this better."
The honesty in his voice nearly undid her again, because she knew he meant it.
He would do whatever she asked of him in this moment, anything as long as it made her smile.
His hand slid gently to the back of her neck.
"I don't know how to just sit here and watch you hurting like this."
The words cracked something open inside her, because nobody had asked her that in years.
Nobody had asked what she needed and nobody had stayed long enough to really want the answer.
Her throat tightened painfully.
"I don't know," she admitted quietly.
The truth sounded embarrassingly vulnerable.
"I think..." Her voice cracked.
And for once she didn't stop it from admitting her truth.
"I think I just needed you."
The confession settled between them and something in Chase's expression broke a little around the edges as his eyes softened for her.
The room stayed quiet around them, the forgotten laptop sitting closed on the table while work notifications buzzed somewhere near it, ignored entirely.
Outside, the soft sound of wind moved through the trees and the chimes across the front porch, evening settling slowly around the house, but Chase barely noticed any of it because all his attention stayed fixed on the woman curled against him.
He didn't say anything right away, he didn't want to ruin the moment trying to solve it.
So, he just held her tighter. One hand resting against the middle of her back while the other slid slowly through her hair, fingers catching gently before smoothing it back again.
"I got you," he said quietly after a while.
Aria shut her eyes harder at that.
Naomi's voice echoed somewhere in the back of her mind again.
Let yourself have one moment with no fear and no future grief.
And sitting here, tucked against him while he held her like he had nowhere else to be, she tried.
She was trying really to stay in now and to not think about losing him.
His hand moved slowly up and down her back again.
"You wanna tell me what happened?" he asked eventually, voice still soft. "Or you want me to just sit here and look pretty for you while you emotionally spiral?"
The corner of her mouth twitched despite herself.
A tiny, unwilling laugh escaped.
"There's my girl," he said quietly, like he'd been waiting for that.
Her chest tightened all over again because he noticed everything.
Always had.
Even now.
"It was therapy," she admitted finally, voice muffled slightly against his shoulder.
He nodded once. "Naomi wrecks me too so I get that."
"Mmhm."
"That explains why you look like somebody emotionally hit you with a truck."
A weak laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "She kind of did."
"Yeah?" He brushed another piece of hair back from her face. "What'd she say?"
Aria hesitated and immediately Chase felt it.
The instinct to pull back was clawing at her.
He recognized it because lately she did it all the time.
So, instead of pushing, he softened.
"You don't gotta tell me if you're not ready," he said quietly. "I'm just trying to figure out who I need to fight."
That earned him another tiny laugh. "Pretty sure you can't fistfight a therapist for doing their job."
"Wanna bet?"
She shook her head against him. "She said I'm scared."
Chase went still for half a heartbeat.
His hand slowing against her back. "Of me?"
The question came softer than she expected.
And somehow sadder too.
Like some part of him had already prepared himself for that answer.
Aria pulled back just enough to look at him and immediately shaking her head.
"No." Her throat tightened. "No, Chase."
One hand curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt.
"Not of you." She swallowed hard before telling him the truth. "Of losing you."
The words landed between them and something shifted in his expression so fast it nearly hurt to watch.
Because for a second he looked wrecked, like nobody had prepared him for that answer.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Eyes dropping for a moment before finding hers again.
"Sweetheart..."
God, the way he said it was quiet and careful, like she was something breakable.
"You already lost me once."
His thumb brushed gently beneath her eye again.
"But I'm here now."
The words came steady, certain even, but something in Chase's expression shifted after he said them, something quieter slipping through the cracks before he could stop it.
He exhaled softly, jaw tightening just slightly like he was debating whether or not to say something he wasn't entirely sure he should.
"Hey."
He tipped her chin up gently until she looked at him.
"You don't gotta carry all that by yourself anymore."
His voice softened further.
"You know that, right?"
Aria swallowed hard but didn't answer right away.
Because she wanted to believe him.
God, she wanted to.
But years of surviving alone didn't just disappear because somebody finally offered to help carry the weight.
Chase's hand drifted slowly through her hair again, quieter now, more thoughtful.
"And for what it's worth..."
He paused.
Like admitting this cost him something too.
"I worry about losing you all the time."
Her brows pulled together immediately.
"What?"
A weak huff of laughter escaped him, humorless around the edges.
"Yeah."
His eyes dropped for a second before finding hers again.
"You think you're the only one scared?"
The honesty in his voice caught her off guard.
Because Chase had always been the steady one.
The protector.
The person who made hard things feel easy.
Seeing uncertainty on him still unsettled her.
"I worry," he admitted quietly, thumb tracing absentmindedly against her shoulder now, "that one day you're gonna wake up and realize this ain't what you signed up for."
The words landed heavier than she expected.
"That you'll get tired of..." He gestured vaguely toward himself, frustration flickering across his face. "All this."
His jaw tightened.
"This broken version of me."
Aria's chest physically hurt hearing him say it.
Because goodness was that really what lived inside his head?
"You had somebody before," he said quieter now, not bitter, just honest. "The version of me before all this and I know I'm not..."
He stopped.
Exhaled.
"I know I'm not fully him anymore."
Something inside her cracked wide open.
Because while she had spent all this time terrified of losing him, he had been terrified she'd stop choosing him.
"I worry," he admitted finally, voice rough around the edges now, "that eventually you're gonna get tired of trying to love somebody who came back broken."
Silence settled between them.
Naomi's homework echoed again.
Be honest. No fear. Just truth.
Aria reached up slowly, cupping the side of his face before he could look away again.
"Chase..."
Her voice cracked.
"You are not broken."
The words came firm despite the tears threatening again.
"You're hurt, there's a difference."
His hazel eyes searched hers immediately.
Uncertain, like he didn't fully believe her.
"You survived something horrific," she whispered. "Of course you came back different."
Her thumb brushed lightly against the faint scar near his lip.
"You think I expected you to walk back in here untouched?"
A shaky breath escaped him.
"Some days I don't even recognize myself."
The confession came quiet.
So gently, carefully, she rested her forehead against his.
"Then we figure out these new versions of ourselves together."
For a moment, Chase didn't say anything.
His hand moved slowly up to cover hers where it rested against his face.
"You make that sound real easy," he said quietly.
Aria let out a soft breath somewhere between sad and tired.
"It's not."
Her thumb brushed lightly over his cheek.
"I'm just saying... maybe we stop expecting either of us to be the people we were before."
Because wasn't that part of the problem?
They kept circling versions of themselves that didn't exist anymore.
Twenty-three-year-old Chase.
The girl who waited.
The people they had been before grief and time and survival changed everything.
Chase exhaled slowly.
"I miss him sometimes."
The confession came quiet.
Like he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
Aria frowned slightly.
"The old you?"
He nodded once.
"Yeah."
His eyes dropped briefly.
"Seemed easier to be around."
The attempt at humor didn't quite hide the sadness underneath.
"Didn't have all this..." He motioned vaguely toward himself. "Baggage."
Her chest tightened painfully.
How long had he been carrying that around alone?
"You know what Naomi said to me today?"
He glanced back up.
"What?"
"She said survival skills overstay their welcome."
His brows furrowed slightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Aria huffed softly.
"Apparently, shutting down emotionally was useful when I was trying not to fall apart for years." She gave him a tired half smile. "Now it's just ruining my life."
Something like recognition flickered across his face.
Because maybe he understood that more than she realized.
"Think I got a few of those," he admitted quietly.
"Yeah?"
A humorless laugh escaped him.
"Sweetheart, I sleep facing the door."
That snapped her head up, because he did, every night.
Always.
She had noticed and never said anything.
"You barely sleep," she said quietly.
His jaw shifted slightly.
"Can't always shut my brain off."
Then Chase looked at her again, really looked.
"You know what bothers me most?"
She shook her head.
"That you had therapy today and somehow we're still talking about me."
The smallest laugh escaped her.
"That sounds exactly like something Naomi would say."
"Naomi scares me."
"She scares everybody."
That earned her a real smile, and God, she had missed that smile.
Missed the way it softened him.
Missed the way it made him look younger somehow, less weighed down by everything he carried.
Without thinking, her fingers drifted absentmindedly through the slightly messy hair near his temple, smoothing it back before it immediately fell out of place again.
And then...
Naomi's homework whispered in the back of her mind.
One moment.
No fear.
So before she could overthink it, before anxiety interrupted and talked her out of something she wanted, she leaned forward.
Slowly and kissed the side of his mouth, right where his lips met the faint curve of his dimple.
Chase went very still.
Hazel eyes blinking up at her once.
Then twice.
Clearly surprised.
And something about that expression nearly undid her.
Because somehow, after everything, he still looked a little shocked every time she chose him.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist.
"You trying to kill me emotionally today?" he asked quietly.
She opened her mouth, already feeling heat creep into her face, but Chase beat her to it.
"Well," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly, "best of luck."
Her brows pulled together slightly.
"Because bigger men have tried."
That got an actual laugh out of her.
Small. Tired. But real.
His thumb rubbed slowly against her side.
"My words of advice." he whisphered softly.
Her smile widened despite herself.
"What's that?"
"Keep it up."
His hazel eyes flicked briefly toward her mouth before meeting her gaze again.
"And do your worst."
God, that smile, that stupid, quiet confident smile that mixed with softness.
She shook her head, huffing another laugh.
"I need a shower."
"I," Chase said, glancing toward the abandoned laptop with immediate annoyance, "am officially sick of meetings."
He looked back at her.
"Go shower."
One hand brushed gently against her back.
"I'll call us in some takeout."
The words came easy and natural for him. It was like taking care of her had always been his first instinct.
Because everytime, even when Chase needed just as much healing, just as much care and reassurance as she did, he still found ways to put her first.
Emotionally and physically.
Always.
And maybe that was the dangerous thing about loving Chase.
Even when he was hurting, he still somehow made Aria feel safe and secure first and worried about his own needs second.