Page 109 of Resilience

She should have felt relieved and happy. It was over! The last vestige of what Hunter had done to her two fucking months ago was finally gone. She’d been excited to get to the clinic this morning, ready for the procedure, ready to get on with her life.

Now, she felt ... wrong. Sad, or something. But not because of the abortion. She didn’t regret it, hadn’t suddenly developed an idea that the blob was anything more than a blob yet. That wasn’t it.

She was glad it was gone. She was not in an unbearable amount of pain. What the fuck was wrong with her?

The passenger door opened, and Sam stood there, looking intent and worried and ready to be everything she needed.

She wished they’d sorted out their feelings so much earlier than this. A while back, she’d told him she was glad their relationship hadn’t changed before now, because they had enough experience to really know how special their love was.

What a load of stupid that was!

They would have known at any point how special they were together—they’d always been special together. If they hadn’t been so determined to think of it as incest, maybe they would have seen the truth before Sam had gone through a heartbreaking and frustrating series of doomed relationships, and before Athena had met Hunter. She wouldn’t have gotten jerked around for years and acted like a doormat because she was so sure he was the best catch she could find in the Deaf community, or even the ASL community. He had never been the best catch. The best fucking catch in the ASL community had been her best friend! And Hunter had been a shitty boyfriend before he’d raped her.

God, she was so stupid! So fucking STUPID!

Her self-directed fury was so acute and hot, had risen up so fast, it needed release. Athena’s hand flew up unbidden, and she punched herself in the head.

She was going for a second strike when Sam’s hand caught her fist. She looked over and found him frowning deeply, his eyes alight with worry and confusion. He shook his head.

She loved him so much. The awful, incomprehensible shit churning up her chest hurt, it hurt so bad, but Sam was there. Right there. Protecting her, even from herself.

He had always been there.

He still had her hand, but she needed only one to make the sign she needed to make.

“Sam?”

Tears surged forth before she could take a breath. Once they were free, they were a deluge, like a crack in a dam suddenly breaking wide. Where they’d come from, what they meant, she wasn’t sure. A vast, overwhelming flood of bleakness rolled over her.

“Sam!” she signed again.

He gathered her up in his arms like a baby. As soon as he had her, she wrapped her arms as tightly around his neck as she could, buried her face against his chest, and sobbed.

He held her tightly and carried her to their room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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