Chapter 11 #2
"I was in the hospital for three days, recovering from the emergency delivery.
Stanley came to see me once, the day before I was discharged.
He stood at the foot of my bed, wouldn't even look me in the eye, and told me that the only reason he'd been trying to make things work was because of the baby.
Now that there wasn't a baby anymore, there was no reason to keep pretending.
He wanted to be with Briar. He'd always wanted to be with Briar.
She just didn't admit that she liked him until he and I had gotten married," I give a hollow snort.
"So it was their bad timing, and I was collateral damage. "
The memory of his words, so cold and clinical while I lay there broken and bleeding, makes me physically sick, again.
"He left me there. Crying in that hospital room, alone, having just lost our child, and he walked away like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. Like our daughter never even existed."
My knees start to buckle, and suddenly Chase is there. I didn't hear him get out of bed, didn't hear him cross the room, but his arms are around me, strong and warm, holding me together. He turns me away from the window and pulls me against his bare chest, and I completely fall apart.
"He threw me away," I sob into his skin. "Like I was nothing. Like trash. At the most vulnerable moment of my entire life, when I had just lost our baby, he told me he didn't want me. That he'd never really wanted me."
"Paisley," Chase's voice is rough with emotion, his hand cupping the back of my head.
"I blamed myself," I continue, the words pouring out now in a rush.
I've never talked about this with anyone, and maybe it's what I've needed.
"I thought if I hadn't gone there, if I hadn't gotten upset, if I'd just gone to my apartment, maybe she would have lived.
Maybe I could have held on just a little longer.
The doctors said the labor wasn't caused just by the stress, that these things just happen sometimes, but I can't stop thinking that if I'd just… "
"No." Chase's voice is firm, and he pulls back just enough to look down at me. His eyes are fierce, blazing with an intensity I'd always hoped to see from Stanley. "No, Paisley. None of that shit was your fault. Do you hear me? Not one single bit of it."
"But…" I argue.
"That motherfucker," Chase cuts me off, his jaw tight with anger, "is a coward and a liar.
He didn't deserve you, and he sure as hell didn't deserve that baby.
What he did to you? Leaving you like that?
That says everything about who he is and nothing about who you are.
I can't even begin to imagine leaving my wife like that. "
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, hearing his anger.
"I feel so guilty," I whisper. "For being attracted to you, for wanting you, for feeling alive again when my daughter is gone. Like I don't have the right to be happy."
Chase's hands come up to frame my face, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears.
"Your daughter would want you to live," he says softly.
"To be happy. To find joy again. You surviving, you moving forward, that's not a betrayal to what you wanted.
It's honoring her memory by not letting what happened destroy you completely.
" He stops for a second. "It's the same for me.
My wife would've wanted the same for me too, and maybe me telling you, is also telling myself. "
I search his face, looking for any sign of pity or disgust, but all I see is understanding. There's a compassion I never got from anyone else, and attraction that I don't want to let slide.
"I wanted to tell you sooner," I admit. "But I was afraid you'd look at me differently. Like I was damaged or broken."
"You're not broken," he interrupts firmly. "You're healing. There's a difference."
"I don't feel like I'm healing," I admit, my stomach churning as I say the words.
"Healing isn't linear. Some days are going to be harder than others. But you're still standing, Paisley. You're still here. That takes more strength than you know. No one understands how hard it is to keep going when all you want to do is give up."
I lean into his touch, craving the warmth and acceptance he's offering when no one else did.
"Stanley didn't know what the fuck he had," Chase continues, his voice dropping lower.
"He was too busy looking at what he thought he wanted to see what was right in front of him.
He had a woman who was loyal, who tried to make things work even when they were falling apart, who was willing to be a good co-parent despite everything.
And he threw it away. That's not a man. That's a piece of shit who will never be honest. You were never going to know where you were with him, because he was never going to tell you," he reaches out, cupping my cheek. "You deserve more than that."
"Chase…"
"I'm not done." His eyes stare into mine.
"I see you, Paisley. I see how strong you are, even when you think you're weak.
I see how you're trying to live this life you were thrown into.
You've been open to everything since you came here.
Whether that be learning how to take care of a horse, or cook over a gas stove.
You're learning who you are out here, and you're not shying away from what you're finding.
I see all of it, and I want you to know something. "
My breath catches in my throat.
"I would be honored," he says slowly, deliberately, "to show you the difference between a man who didn't know what he had in front of him, and one who does."
The air between us is crackling with attraction. His hands are still cradling my face, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body where we're pressed together. My own hands have somehow found their way to his chest, and I can feel his heart thumping under my palms.
"I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious," I whisper honestly. "I'm still such a mess."
"That's why I said we'll take it slow, even before I knew any of this" he murmurs.
"We'll take it at whatever pace you need.
But I need you to know that I'm interested, Paisley.
I have been since you got here, and learning about your past doesn't change that.
If anything, it makes me respect you more. "
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
"Because you're here. Because you didn't let it destroy you completely.
Because you're trying to rebuild, even though I know how hard that is.
I've been there, remember? After my wife died, I thought I'd never feel anything again.
But then you showed up in my field, ready to end your life.
I stopped you, and everything that didn't have meaning before, had it again. "
"Thank you. I know that wasn't easy." I rest my forehead against his chest again, breathing in the spicy scent of him. "Thank you too," I whisper. "For listening. For not judging. For being exactly what I needed tonight."
His arms tighten around me, one hand stroking down my back.
"Anytime, Paisley. I mean that. You want to talk at three in the morning? My door's open. You need to cry? I've got shoulders built for it. You need space? I'll give it to you. Maybe not a ton since this is a small cabin, but I'll give you what I can. Whatever you need, I'm here."
We stay wrapped up in each other while the wind howls outside and the snow continues to fall. For the first time since that horrible day in Stanley's apartment, I feel like maybe I'm not completely alone in this. Like maybe there's someone who actually sees me and wants to help carry the weight.
Eventually, my tears slow, and I become aware of how late it is, how tired I am, how I'm standing in Chase's bedroom in nothing but sleep shorts and a tank top pressed up against his bare chest.
"I should probably go back to my room," I say reluctantly.
"Or," Chase says carefully, "you could stay here. I'll sleep on top of the covers if you want me to. I just don't want either of us to be alone after that."
The offer is everything I've wanted, but not asked for. I'm tired of being alone, but I need to make sure he's okay with it too. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." He releases me, and I miss his warmth as soon as he lets go. "Let me just grab a shirt."
"Don't," I blurt out, then feel my cheeks heat. "I mean, if you're comfortable. You don't have to."
He raises an eyebrow, a half-smile playing at his lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I move toward the bed, suddenly shy. Stanley is the only man I've ever slept with. "Which side do you sleep on?"
"Doesn't really matter to me. You can pick."
I choose the right side, sliding under the covers that still hold the warmth of his body. Chase moves to the left side. He turns off the bathroom light, plunging us into darkness broken only by the faint moonlight reflecting off the snow outside. When I lift the blankets, he scoots underneath them.
"Paisley?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you told me. I know it wasn't easy, but I'm glad you trusted me with it." The quiet words mean more than he knows.
I turn on my side to face him, and even in the dim light I can make out his profile.
"I'm glad too," I admit. "I feel lighter than I have in months. Like I've been carrying around this weight for so long, and I've finally put it down."
"Good." He turns his head to look at me. "Now try to sleep. You're safe here."
I close my eyes, and for the first time in months, sleep comes easily.