34. Piper
thirty-four
piper
Am I Dying?
H is words chime in the air surrounding us as moments pass with him still inside me.
My eyes draw up to the enormous chandelier in his room, its tiers of sparkling crystals cascading like winter icicles, fragile but glimmering. Hanging by a thread . My fingers run mindlessly over his slick back as we both gather our breaths.
God, that was . . .
Every breath and touch.
Every pulse and thrust.
He wasn’t just inside me; he was coursing through my blood.
Dev shifts, trailing kisses along my neck before he removes himself from me. An emptiness takes a hold of me as I watch him walk to the bathroom. It makes my chest feel like a hollow and barren cavity.
He comes back with his briefs on, carrying a washcloth. Getting back on the mattress, he takes his time, gently wiping me down before throwing the towel into a nearby hamper.
He loves me?
Love.
Like the kind I’ve guarded my heart against all this time. Like the kind that leaves you bleeding out and raw in the bowels of your own misery.
A part of me that wants to believe it, to believe him. A part of me wants to dive headfirst and leave my worries behind, letting myself get lost in the tenderness of his touch.
But the other part? That voice I’m so used to speaks up again, asking me what would happen if I said those words back, only for him to realize years later that I was never worth it.
Are you enough, Piper? Are you enough to keep a man like him?
Don’t be a fool! Look at what that kind of love did to Mom. Look at what it did to Nisha and Sarina. How can you not see that you’ll end up the same way?
Dev’s arms gather me up as he lays down behind me, my back to his chest. His hand splays over my belly and his lips brush kisses on the shell of my ear, the nape of my neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I place my hand over his, hoping to wave off my growing anxiety.
“What happened today?” I ask, trying to steer my mind in another direction. “I mean, it felt like you were somewhere else at the beginning. Like you were upset, or I don’t know . . . lost?”
He’s quiet for so long, I wonder if he’s just not going to answer. But then his fingers play with his mother’s ring on my finger.
“I was lost,” he murmurs. “I’ve been lost for a long time. But today was . . . just a lot.”
I give him a confused look and watch his throat bob.
“I went to see my mom. I wanted to convince her to try a new clinical trial. ”
“Oh.”
He shakes his head. “She’s intent on giving up. ”
I turn around in his arms, my hands cupping his face instinctively, while our bodies stay aligned. “She’s not giving up, Dev; she’s letting go. She wants to live out the rest of her life with a smile on her face and seeing a smile on the faces of the ones she loves. There’s a difference.”
He shuts his eyes, and I know he’s hoping to keep his tears at bay. “I can’t sit back and just watch her go. I can’t do it.”
My thumbs skate over his stubble. “It’s her wish. And isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To fulfill her wishes?”
His eyes open to lock with mine. He’s quiet for a beat, perhaps accepting what I’ve said or filing it away to think about later.
“She also wanted me to make amends with my dad,” he says, taking a long breath. “We’ve had a . . . complicated relationship for some time.”
I huff, giving him a mirthless smile. “Believe me, I know all about complicated relationships with dads. Did you try talking to him?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I got a few things off my chest. Our relationship can’t be one-sided. He has to decide he wants it, too.”
“Does he have a strained relationship with Deena too, or just you?”
“Mostly me, but I wouldn’t say he and Deena have an exceptional bond. He’s always been hard to please.” His fingers run down my back and he parts his legs so I can place mine in between them. We’ve woken up quite a few mornings tangled in the same way.
“What about your dad? Was he as much an asshole to Rowan as he was to you?”
I shake my head. “He was always hard on Rowan, but there was a level of respect there for him?—”
“Because of hockey,” he adds knowingly .
I nod. “I didn’t have any such talents, nothing he could tote around like a badge of honor.”
“And yet, here you are. The most talented and incredible woman I know.”
I shrug, and we lay there looking at each other until I can no longer hold back what’s trying to break free.
“Dev?”
“Mmm?”
“What you said earlier . . .” I clear my throat, my heart picking up its pace. “About loving me?—”
“I meant it.”
A heavy weight sits on my chest and I take in a short breath, pushing against it. “I’m just . . .” I pause to take a breath and try again, but the air feels thin. “I’m really?—”
Dev lifts my chin with his finger so that our eyes connect. “Piper, I didn’t know it at the time, but the day I walked into your salon changed my entire life. I’d gone in for a haircut but left having found the woman of my dreams.” He pauses. “There isn’t a person in this world I love the way I love you. This arrangement? The whole charade? It stopped being one a long time ago for me. I’m crazy about you, Peter.”
I shudder on an inhale. “And our wedding this week?”
“I want it to be real, if you want it to be real. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My glassy eyes bounce between his as I try to find my voice. A voice that seems to be failing me in a life-changing moment like this.
He loves me?
He wants to spend the rest of his life with me?
Could he really mean it? Maybe it’s because we’ve been living together, the close proximity between us. Or maybe it’s because of how intimate we’ve been. Maybe it’s confusing him.
Maybe it’s confusing me ?
Isn’t this why I had all the rules?
“Did I scare you?” he asks softly, reading the turmoil on my face. “Baby, are you okay?”
I nod again, then shake my head.
It’s as if something suddenly snaps inside me and every emotion comes barreling to the surface. A wail erupts from my throat, and I bury my head in his warm chest. A sob follows before Dev gently cups the back of my head. My tears stream down my face in a heavy downpour.
He loves me.
He wants our marriage to be real.
Everything inside me yearns to believe it, to say those words back and rejoice in the feeling of being loved. Of feeling whole. But that tiny voice that’s been my guiding force, keeping me safe—unattached, uncommitted, and unloved—screams louder than ever.
“Hey,” he murmurs reverently. “Shh, baby. Talk to me. Tell me what scares you.”
God, why does he have to be so understanding? So sweet?
And gah, so fucking perfect!?
I sniffle, catching my breath, before pulling away to look into his concerned eyes.
“Everything,” I murmur brokenly. “You. This. Us. I’m not right for you, Dev. I’m fucked up in the head. I want to trust what you’re saying, but . . .”
I can’t even finish my thought.
“Hey, listen to me.” His hands grasp my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “You’re not fucked up. You’re perfect. A little diabolical,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, “but so perfect. And as for trusting me? Sweetheart, trust this: I’m one hundred percent in. One hundred percent yours. There’s no one else I want to spend my life with, Piper. No one I want to breed rabbits, do crosswords, or pet hairless cats with.”
My stomach twists and my thoughts collide, taking me in a million directions. My chest constricts, each breath more labored than the last, like my lungs are turning to cement.
“Piper?”
Dev’s voice feels distant, muffled, like he’s underwater. Or maybe I am? I sit up, gasping for air and clutching my chest. God, am I having a heart attack? Am I dying? This feels like I’m dying.
A cold sweat breaks out over my skin while my hands tremble. I think I’m going to be sick.
“Piper!”
Time slows, and the pressure in my chest builds to an unbearable level. I vaguely register the mattress shifting below me and Dev rushing out of the room.
The room spins like I’m in a goddamn Tilt-A-Whirl and I slap my hand down to the mattress, trying to steady myself, but I can’t catch my breath.
God, this is it, isn’t it? This is how I’m going to die.
Just when I think I’m truly on the verge of passing out, warm hands cup my face and Dev places something in my palms.
“Breathe into this!”
His booming voice cuts through the buzzing inside my brain, and I haul the paper bag to my mouth. I cover it before taking in gulps of air. My eyes squeeze tight as Dev continues to soothe me with his words, telling me I’m okay. That I’m safe. That he’s right here.
He rubs my back as I continue to breathe and eventually, the vice grip inside my chest begins to loosen. My breaths slow and I finally take a few long inhales through my nose.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing great.” He brushes a strand of hair off my damp forehead, tucking it behind my ear. “Just breathe.”
I nod, leaning into his touch .
And though the anxiety has waned, my voice still feels strained. “I’m sorry.”
Dev shakes his head, kneeling in front of the bed, pulling me toward him. “No, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. Never apologize.” He interlocks our fingers. “Have you had a panic attack before?”
I shake my head, my mind racing to make sense of what just happened.
What does it mean that his words caused such a physical and mental response inside my body?
Is this what it feels like to come to terms with the fact that you love someone, while your body physically rejects the idea? It’s a terrifying realization—that I’ve grown to care for and love this man, mixed with the paralyzing fear of what that means.
It took him three simple words to shake me to my core, to make cracks in the walls I’d carefully constructed around myself. I’ve spent so much of my adult life believing love is dangerous and that commitments lead to heartache. And now his three words are making me question it all.
But even if we love each other, even if I say those words back, can I truly believe that it’ll last? What if it doesn’t? Am I strong enough to face that outcome? Even the thought of opening myself up and letting someone settle into my heart, only to have it all wither away one day, is paralyzing.
If his confession had such an effect on me, what would happen if he decided he no longer loves me one day? This panic attack would be a mere twinge in comparison to the onslaught of pain that could be at the end.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
His voice pulls me out of my daze, but one look at his worried expression and I feel my heart in my throat again. “I think . . . I think I need some time, Dev. Some space. ”
His eyes bounce between mine, his hand loosening around mine. “Space?”
I swallow, hoping to keep a new rush of tears at bay. “I need to wrap my head around everything. My feelings, your feelings . . . they’re all just a lot to process at once.”
His shoulders fall and I fucking hate the way his expression does, too. Because I did that to him. I took away his smile; I put a blemish on the hope that was blooming inside him.
A pang of guilt twists my insides, but I can’t take back my words. I need the space and time to figure out if I’m strong enough to face a real future with him.
Dev nods. “Whatever you need.”
“It might be good for me to stay at my place this week,” I say, my chest burning at the thought of being away from him, but knowing I won’t be able to make sense of my feelings when I’m mere feet from him—his lips, his arms, his presence—inside this house.
He nods again, but there’s no mistaking his frown. “Okay. I’ll talk to Ralph about making some changes so there’s more security around your condo.”
I get off the mattress, in no mood to wiggle back into my own clothes. Instead, I pick up one of his button-downs from a chair and wrap it around me. I’m immediately enveloped in his scent, knowing I’ll be wearing it to bed every night, like my armor and comfort all at once.
Dev helps me pick up my clothes off the floor, handing them to me. His fingers brush against mine and just that small touch sends a current through my body.
I head toward his door and am just about to step out when he stops me.
“Can I ask you something?”
His voice is soft and hesitant, making my heart clench. I turn over my shoulder, hoping to steel myself for his question, but knowing he has the power to crumble my fragile willpower. Still, I nod.
“Do you . . .” He clears his throat, standing up a little straighter. “Do you feel anything for me? Anything real?”
My chin wobbles as a pang slashes through my chest. The raw vulnerability in his eyes, the hesitant hope in his voice, it feels unbearable.
Do I feel anything real for him?
I take a shaky breath as fresh tears pool inside my lids. “The way I feel about you, Lex, is the entire reason I need to walk away right now.”