Chapter 40 #2
Elias’s eyes zero in on me. “Why you keep denying it.” He holds my gaze, daring me to look away and refute his words.
“I remember how happy you were when you were together before—” I open my mouth, but he shakes his head “—you might not have ever told me, but I’m not stupid.
I figured out who you were sneaking around with pretty quick.
I never called you on it, because I figured when you were ready, you’d tell me.
But then…” He shrugs. “Anyway, all I’m saying is you have history and you still clearly have feelings for him, so why do you keep pretending you don’t? ”
I hang my head in shame.
“It’s okay to give people another chance, Ebba. It doesn’t make you weak.”
I know my brother means well and he makes an excellent point, but it’s still hard to hear.
“Excuse me,” I say, and push away from the table. My head is already on a swivel in search of the restrooms.
“You idiot,” Whimsy hisses as I walk away.
“What did I do?” Elias asks innocently.
I slip into the restroom and lock myself in a stall.
I can’t keep doing this to myself—allowing my warring emotions to hold me prisoner. It’s not good for me, or Fisher. I need to sort myself out. I had already resolved myself to giving therapy a shot, and I know it’s the right thing to do.
I give myself another minute to slow my breathing before I pee. Washing my hands, I slip from the restroom and freeze when I find Fisher waiting for me.
He leans against the wall, hair falling across his forehead in a way that has me itching to reach out and brush it away.
“Are you okay?”
He makes no move to touch me and something about that breaks my heart a little. Fisher was always so free with his affection, but I’m the one who needs to put in the effort now.
I reach out, grazing my fingers over his. I expect him to close his hand around mine, but he doesn’t, so I do it again and this time fully grab his hand before I step closer into him.
“I need a hug,” I mumble against his chest.
He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms fully around my body. He drops his chin to the top of my head, and I melt into his embrace. My eyes close and I inhale his familiar scent.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I start to shake my head but catch myself. I have to stop keeping things to myself. The only way to make this work is if I open up about my thoughts and insecurities.
“What my brother said … it’s the truth. I do still have feelings for you, they never fully went away, but I’m terrified of giving you a second chance because then it feels like I wasted so many years hating you and blaming you for no reason.
” I take a breath. “I’m being stubborn trying to keep distance between us so I can justify everything, and I realize that now, and I’m so sorry. ”
“Forgiveness isn’t linear, Ebba.” He cups my cheek, forcing me to hold his gaze.
“I know you said you forgive me and I believe you, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t going to have doubts.
It’s my job to remind you that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, not as long as there’s a small part of you that wants me around.
” He slides his fingers gently through my curls until he can wrap his hand around the back of my neck.
“What you’re saying … I understand, okay? ”
I sniffle as I look up at him. “It’s my fault we’ve lost years we could’ve been together.”
He shakes his head. “No, Ebba. Those aren’t lost years. It’s time we both needed to work things out individually. I’m not saying it was easy times for either of us, but sometimes you have to grow separately in order to grow together.”
“You don’t hate me for wasting all this time?” My bottom lip trembles with worry.
He presses his forehead to mine. “No, baby. Not at all. Have I ever stopped missing you? No. Could I hate you for doing what you needed? No. Grief can shake the foundation of the most rational person. I would be crazy to hold a grudge when you were just trying to protect what was left of your heart.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
I truly don’t. Not his kindness, nor his patience, and definitely not his love.
“Yes, you do.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I love him, but I swallow down the words.
I don’t want to tell him that yet, not when things between us are still so new, and especially not when I’ve just been crying in a bathroom.
But I feel it and I know I mean it. Loving Fisher has always been easy, like it’s something essential to my survival.
“Are you ready to head back?” he asks.
“Yeah. Is my makeup running?”
He pulls back and studies my face. “Not at all.”
We return to the table hand in hand. My brother gives me an apologetic glance as I sit down and opens his mouth to speak.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I overreacted. I seem to do that a lot lately.”
“Still,” he says. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I nod in appreciation.
Our meal is uneventful after that. I do take extra care to photograph my meal and have Whimsy snap some pics of me as we’re leaving.
I’ve been neglecting my social media and need to get back to posting regularly.
After my drunken marriage to Fisher, I’ve been avoiding social media for the most part, but it’s time to make a full return.
“Just one more,” I say to Whimsy. “Fisher, come here.” I crook my finger and he obeys, grinning as he joins me. “Do you want to be social media official with me?”
He laughs. “Baby, the media already picked up the story of our marriage when it happened. Pretty sure we’re already official in the media’s eyes.”
“Sure,” I agree. “But I’ve never confirmed it.”
His eyes heat. “And you want to do that?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.
He holds my gaze and I’m sure he’s searching to see if there’s any part of me that’s unsure. “Okay,” he agrees.
Fisher wraps his arm around me, and I press a hand to his chest—classic couple’s pose. He smiles down at me and at the last second I press up on my tiptoes and kiss him.
He groans, low in his throat, and cups my cheek.
I don’t know if he means to, but he deepens this kiss, his tongue swiping against my bottom lip.
He swallows my moan with one of his own.
I want to keep kissing him, but we’re in a public location and my brother’s girlfriend is literally taking photos of us, so I pull away and scurry over to grab my phone from her.
“Thanks,” I say breathlessly.
“Thank you for the show,” she teases. “That was hot.”
My skin heats with embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. I like seeing you exist in the moment.” She gives my arm a squeeze before she runs over to join my brother. He scoops her up easily, swinging her around.
The warmth of Fisher’s body descends on mine. “Get what you want?”
“Huh?” I blurt dumbly.
He jerks his head at the phone in my hand. “Your photos.”
I unlock the phone and flick through the photos Whimsy snapped of us. We look hot together. The first photo is the safest to share—the kiss is borderline R rated after that.
“Yeah, these are perfect.”
He gives me a knowing smirk. “Good.”