Page 41 of Give Me Strength

“What are you working on?” she asks, her voice a little stronger now, trying to shift the focus away from herself.

I glance at the papers on the island. “Housekeeper applications. This place is too big to manage on my own, and I’ve been… distracted.”

She lifts a curious brow. “Distracted?”

I give her a small, almost shy smile. “By a certain ballerina who keeps me up at night.”

She blushes, the rosy hue in her cheeks deepening. “I don’t mean to.”

“I don’t mind,” my voice drops to a whisper. “Not at all. And since I’m tired of the embellished resumes, I’ve been trying to entice Melissa into coming back.”

“Mel?” she echoes, her eyes widening.

“Yes,” I nod. “She left four years ago. I asked nicely, of course, and she’s thinking about coming back. I thought it might help to have someone around who knows the house, who knows you.”

Her expression softens, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. “She was always kind to me. It would be nice to have her back.”

“It would.”

As I finish bandaging her feet, I step back, feeling the fragile moment between us. The underlying attraction, the tension that has been building since the moment I laid eyes on her, is palpable. But there’s also the shadow of the past, the memories of Rachel and Hannah that lingers in every corner of this house, adding to the complexity of our situation.

Her eyes drift again to the island, taking in the stack of resumes and my open laptop, the half-typed email visible on the screen. She looks back at me, her expression a mixture of gratitude and something else deeper in her gaze.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

I can see the surprise in her eyes, as if she’s not used to people doing things for her without expecting something in return.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell her, my voice equally laden with unspoken feelings. “I want to do this, and you deserve to be taken care of. Not just your feet, but everything.”

She bites her lip. “Everything?”

I step closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her. “Everything,” I echo, meaning every word.

We stay like that, the kitchen around us fading into the background. The air is charged with something electric, something neither of us is ready to put a name to. At least, not out loud, anyway. The unspoken feelings hang in the air, creating a tension that is both thrilling and unnerving.

Her gaze falls to her bandaged feet, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. “Why are you really doing this, Gilbert?” she asks, her voice trembling. “Why are you helping me?”

I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “Because you matter to me, Ashlynn,” I tell her, my heart pounding in my chest. “More than you know.”

A shudder moves through her, ricocheting through me. “It’s just… people don’t usually go out of their way for me. Not without wanting something in return.”

I lift her chin with my free hand, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I am not people.”

She looks at me, her green eyes wide and searching. The vulnerability in her gaze tugs at something deep inside me. “Gilbert, I?—”

With a slight shake of my head, I press the pad of my thumb to her lips, silencing her. Our gazes lock, the truth of our feelings hanging in the air, something neither of us can ignore anymore. I can also see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between her fear and the undeniable pull between us — emotions I’m sure are mirrored in my own gaze.

Honestly, I’d rather she not say anything else for now. We both know we are treading dangerous waters here. At least, I am. If there’s one thing I’ve gleaned from her nightmares, it’s that there’s a small part of her subconscious that blames herself for the accident, even if she would never say it out loud. I get it, though. There’s so much I still need to tell her. But tonight is not the time. For tonight, I just?—

“I should go to bed,” she speaks around my thumb, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You should.” My voice sounds steady, but inside, I’m anything but.

Neither one of us moves, though. We stay like that for a beat longer, the air between us charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. After what seems like an eternity, she moves first, leaning back slightly so my hand falls off her chin. She pulls her other hand from mine, the connection breaking but the intensity of the moment lingering. And, because I am a glutton for punishment, I hold out an arm for her, which she uses to steady herself as she slips off the counter.

Once she’s on her feet, I reluctantly take another step back and shove both hands into the pockets of my sweatpants. “Goodnight, Ashlynn.”

She gives me a small, tentative smile. “Goodnight, Gilbert.” As she heads towards the entrance, she pauses, looking back at me. “I’ll see you at 5 A.M. with your morning coffee, just how you like it.”

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