Chapter 23 #2
“So I’m going to spoil you.” His finger slid over the outside of my eye, and I knew he could see that I’d been crying.
I was certain my cheeks were splotchy and my eyes bloodshot.
Maybe he would think it was from throwing up.
As the lines on his forehead deepened, I suspected he knew it was more.
He kissed the space where his finger had been and the other side before he adjusted my towel.
“Brush your teeth while I get dressed, and I’ll take you downstairs. Unless you’d rather curl back in bed?”
I shook my head.
“Downstairs it is.”
He grabbed a towel and dried himself as he walked from the bathroom, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “You going to be okay?”
No.
“Yes, I’m just worn out.”
He paused his steps before he gave me a nod and headed into the bedroom.
I went through the motions of brushing my teeth, glad to get the vomit taste from my mouth.
When I looked up, he was standing in the doorway, his shirt and socks in one hand, his robe in the other.
His jeans hung low on his waist, and my eyes trailed the V it formed.
“None of that until I know you’re better.”
His sly grin had my stomach doing another tumble that would have been good, except for the accompanying clenching. I put my hand on it, and he had me scooped into his arms within seconds.
“Is your stomach always this sensitive?” he asked as he took us down the stairs.
“I don’t eat food like that. I can’t tell you the last time I had something sugary.”
“I think we need to work on your tolerance because I have a sweet tooth. Although I could just feast on you anytime I get a craving for something sweet.”
“Is that all you think about?”
“When you’re around, yup.”
I nestled further into his hold until he lowered me to the couch. He hovered over me, worry sharpening the hues of his irises.
“I’ll be all right. Nothing a few hours of boring movies can’t cure.”
He chuckled, giving me a quick kiss and standing up.
I snatched the robe from his hand and hugged it to my chest as he grabbed the blanket and the remote for me.
Pulling his shirt over his head, he strolled to the kitchen, where I heard him banging around.
He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water, a trash can, and my phone.
“Anything else you need?” he asked, sitting at the end of the couch and tugging his socks on.
“No. This is more than I need.”
“Nope. You need some of Dennie’s homemade noodle soup. I’ll run into town once I finish up and the diner opens.”
“Hudson, that’s too far,” I argued.
He stood and within two strides was leaning over me again. “Spoiling. That’s what I’m doing, and if I had to drive two hours to get you that damned soup, I would.” His hand cupped my cheek, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. “Let me do this, Olivia.”
“Okay.”
He touched his forehead to mine before he kissed me, murmuring about minty toothpaste, before he straightened and headed to the fireplace, throwing some logs in and starting a fire for me. I pulled the robe over me, too exhausted to bother removing the damp towel.
“Keep the blanket on until your hair dries,” said Hudson once the fire took hold. “The temperature dropped last night. Looks like snow on Monday.”
My heart skipped a beat as I raised my sight to him. A contortion of emotions shifted across his features before he said, “In the afternoon, after…”
Silence took over, hanging like a heavy limb ready to loosen and crash into an unsuspecting house.
I didn’t want to hear the rest. The reminder of what was coming.
The pestering thoughts stirred from where I’d imprisoned them, my chest aching with sharp stings that worsened as I wished his words away, trying to change them to fit what I wanted.
To have him say it would snow Monday morning and I wouldn’t be able to leave.
That I’d be stuck here another week. But that was impossible and would only delay the inevitable.
Perhaps ripping the bandage off would be easier.
Likely not, because easy wasn’t any part of what awaited us on Monday.
“Strange weather,” I said, wanting to avoid the end of his thought and to lift the oppressive weight that hung over us. “Flooding, spring weather, and now a snowstorm? Is that normal here?”
It took him a moment to react, for his expression to smooth out.
“No. Usually only get snow this time of year.”
“I bet that’s pretty.” There was a hint of melancholy in my statement, and his eyes saddened.
“Yeah. It really is.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “Stay here, and I’ll check in on you before I head into town.”
I didn’t argue this time, resting my head on the couch pillow and closing my eyes as I listened to him get ready. My stomach made a loud gurgling sound, and I pulled my legs in tighter, vowing never to eat anything sweet again.
I heard the door close and pulled the blanket up further around me.
So much had happened in the past week. So many words spoken, so many emotions awakened.
I didn’t know how to go home. Not in this state.
Unsure and confused. But I couldn’t stay.
That wasn’t my destiny, no matter how I wanted it to be.
I would never be a woman who crocheted pillows and raised chickens.
I snorted at the thought. Hudson didn’t even have chickens, so I wasn’t sure where the image of a dozen chicks following me around the yard had come from.
I was at home in the bustling city with its constant noise and lights.
The fast pace, the ability to get lost in a crowd.
Adjusting my head, I stared at the fire, watching as the flames snapped and sparked.
I could hide there. Hide my emotions behind a mask, keep my heart protected.
Self-preservation had been my sidekick for years, and I knew how to do that at home.
But here? Quiet invaded my mind here, letting the thoughts slip free, the memories, the hurt.
I couldn’t be safe here or let a mask define me. I couldn’t be myself here.
I blinked, the sting of tears burning. No more tears. I couldn’t afford anymore or I might turn into a dehydrated shell like a mummy. I scrunched my eyes shut, willing them to go away, to leave me alone.
When the discomfort subsided, I opened my eyes again, staring into the fire and thinking of going home.
Questioning whether it would be the same now that Hudson had peeled back my layers and my mask had cracked.
Layers I’d built long before him and lived with for over thirty years. Ones that couldn’t heal in only a week.
I hugged the blanket closer to me, breathing in his scent and letting it calm me as I made the decision I’d been avoiding.
I needed to go home because everything I’d set free here was causing chaos in my mind.
I needed to sort through it. I likely needed therapy, but I would never admit that or seek help.
It wasn’t my style, even if I knew it worked for others.
Mostly, I needed time to rectify my past with who I’d become and who I was with Hudson.
He had always been my safety net, and without him, it had been like walking on fragile glass as it cracked around me.
One wrong step and I would plunge to my death.
But as much as I wanted to let him be that for me again, there was too much for him to shoulder.
It was time I faced myself and opened myself to the possibility that I deserved that safety. That I deserved love. His love.
As much as it broke my heart to think of leaving, I had known it would happen. Known our time was a fleeting moment that was one step away from slipping through my fingers. I needed to find myself before I could catch the fraying thread and make this more than a moment.