51. Chapter 51
Lydia
Itake a deep breath, forcing the cool night air to fill my lungs.
After everything that just happened, I thought I’d feel unnerved or jittery.
Instead, I feel lighter, calmer, as though I’m finally not expecting something bad to happen every time I turn around.
No more boogeyman. No more monster. I am probably just running on adrenaline, but right now I feel good.
I turn to look at my friends, who are still talking quietly with Nick, and give them both a small, grateful smile.
“Thank you, both of you,” I say. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. Sam…I’m so sorry he put his hands on you. That’s never okay.”
“It’s not,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “And I’m sorry it happened to you too.” I give her hand a squeeze in return, her smile soft but steady.
“Will you both text me when you get home?” I ask. “Just so I know you’re safe.”
“Of course,” Ellie says, “and we’re having coffee soon. Girls’ night got cut way too short.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I say, hugging her.
Ellie shakes her head, holding on a second longer. “You have nothing to be sorry for at all.”
I give them each a small, grateful smile. “Goodnight, girls. Drive safe.”
Nick takes my hand then, and gently steers me toward his truck. “Ready to go home, pretty girl?” he asks, smiling down at me.
Home.
God, I love the way that sounds. I am home. Here in this town. With Nick. With friends. With a job I love.
I am finally home.
I give his hand a firm squeeze and look up at him.
“Yes, please. Let’s go home.”
The drive home is quiet, but it’s the good kind.
Nick reaches over the console, palm up as though it’s instinct, like he doesn’t even have to think twice about it.
I place my hand in his, our fingers lacing together.
Looking up at him, I am suddenly overcome with emotion, and I can’t stop the tears that start to fall.
Fat, sloppy ones stream down my face. I hiccup back a sob, not wanting to concern him, but of course he hears me, and worry instantly takes over his face.
He throws on his signal and pulls the truck onto the shoulder. Once the car stops, he unbuckles his belt, quickly followed by mine. I’m then lifted into his lap, his hands on my cheeks.
“What’s wrong? What can I do?” His eyes are full of concern. I start to cry all over again.
“Lydi, baby. What’s happening?” His voice is rough and full of emotion.
I can’t help the small, shaky laugh that leaves my lips. It’s my turn to place my hands on his face.
“You said you loved me,” I say softly, my eyes searching his face for what I’m not sure of, but needing to know if he meant it, if he feels the same love that consumes me for him.
“I did,” he says quietly, then steadier, “I do.”
He swallows hard, like the words matter so much he has to make space for them.
“Lydia Hayes, I love you,” he says. “So much it scares me. I’ve never said those words to anyone before, and I never want to say them to anyone else.
” His thumb brushes my cheek reverently.
“I love you more than I ever thought was possible to love someone. I think I’ve loved you since the day you stole my scone in the coffee shop. I know it’s too soon, but—”
“I love you too,” I whisper, cutting him off. He looks at me with relief and amazement in his eyes. “I love you so much, Nick.” I lift my hands to his wrists, holding him there, wanting him to feel how real this is.
“I love you too,” I repeat quietly. “I love you because you showed me what love is supposed to look like. You made me feel safe. You took care of me without trying to control me. You stood in front of me without ever making me feel small.”
My throat tightens, not with fear but with truth.
“You love me exactly as I am,” I say. “Not who you want me to be. Not who I was trying to survive as. Just…me.”
We sit together, our breaths the only sound filling the air, neither of us wanting to leave this moment.