Page 48 of Haven

Maybe we get to the point where the softest shift can break us, and this is the breaking point for me.

I try to hide it, but he sees it anyway. Of course he does. His rhythm slows and then stops. Then his cock is slipping out of me, and he’s propping himself above me on both arms. His voice is soft and rough as he says, “I thought this was what you wanted.”

He sounds almost broken, and it makes me cry even more.

“Did I misunderstand?” He’s sitting up now on the bed. Moving away from me. “Did I push too far? I thought we... we worked it out. I thought we were together. For real.”

“We are!” I almost choke on the words, so desperate am I to get them said. “We are together.”

“But you’re still not happy. I can’t make you happy.”

“You can—” I break off whatever argument came to my lips. I sit up on the bed like he is, and I wipe away the tears with both my hands. Something has suddenly become clear to me that was hidden in haze before. “I am happy with you. I don’t want anyone else. But I need... I need more than that. In my life.” I clear the gravel from my throat and keep wiping away the tears that won’t seem to stop. I pull up the sheet over my chest since I’m totally naked.

“You need more than me?” It’s not a defiant accusation. It sounds like a real question. Like he’s hurt but trying to understand.

“Yes! It took me a long time to figure out what was wrong. Why I’ve been so... restless lately. For the first few years, it took everything in us just to survive and keep everyone else alive too. But it doesn’t feel like that anymore. I think there’s room for... for more now.”

“More of what?”

“More of... more of me. I want to do more than just eke out an existence. I want todosomething.”

He’s big and handsome and rumpled and scowling as he sits up in the messy bed beside me. “What the hell does that mean? You do stuff every single day. I’ve never known anyone who works harder than you. You keep this whole place running. You keep all of us alive.”

“I know. But that’s what I’m trying to explain. I want more than that. I want who I am to be about more than that. I don’t want my whole life to be defined by the walls of New Haven. I want to go out and do something. Help people.”

“That’s why you want to go help those people set up their farm.” He’s still listening. His eyes never leave my face. But a deep frown is wrinkling his forehead and tilting down his mouth.

“Yes. I want to do that. And maybe other things if they come up.” It’s a relief—like breaking free of binding restraints—to have the words to speak at last. “And I know it might be more dangerous than always staying here, but I still want to do it. I’m not a delicate flower who can never be exposed to the sunlight, and I don’t want you to treat me like one.”

“You are not a delicate flower to me,” he grits out, for the first time looking almost angry.

“Then what am I?”

“You are everything!” The words burst out, surprising both of us. But he goes on, “You’re everything to me. Absolutely everything. And I’ll be damned if I let you go out on some doomed mission and let yourself get killed because you feel guilty that we’ve done so well here or you think we don’t deserve it.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” My voice is getting louder just like his is, although neither one of us is close to shouting.

“Then tell me what you’re doing! Stop trying to always be invulnerable, and tell me what you need so I can give it to you.” He pauses to take a breath, and before I can respond, he goes on, the words tumbling out like he can no longer hold them back. “Because I thought we were doing pretty good. We’ve built a life here—you and me and everyone else. And it’s not easy, but I thought it was a good life. I thought you thought so too. And I even thought it was... it was getting better. Really good. And now you’re expecting me to watch you just throw it away.”

“I’m not throwing it away.” I’m almost crying again, but I try to control it. “Jackson, please. I’m not throwing it away. I’d never do that. I love the life we have here. I love New Haven. I love Miguel and Kate and Ham and Gail and Langley and everyone else. I love our garden and our chickens and pigs and that ridiculously big, ugly wall you built to keep us safe. I love the sunrises in the morning and reading books together every evening and feeling like it’s... it’s family. I love all of it. I love our life here, and I’d never throw it away.” The last words come out as a broken sob.

Jackson is silent for a minute, his face twisted with emotion he’s clearly trying to control. “Oh. I see. Then it’s me. It’s me you don’t love.”

“Jackson, no, that’s not—”

“You want a different man. A better man. You want a man who can take better care of you and fuck you better and make you feel more special.”

“I don’t want any man but you!” I snap out the words because the pain I can hear edging his voice is simply more than I can bear. “Shut up and really listen to me. Talk about being a doomed mission. You’re determined not to believe what I tell you. I’m not saying it in the throes of passion this time. I’m telling you straight out. You’re the only man I want, Jackson. The only man. Ever.”

His expression breaks again but not in a bad way this time. “Yeah?”

“Yes!”

“Then why—”

“Because it’s fucking terrifying! You keep thinking the reason I need more in my life is because you’re not enough. But it’s actually the opposite. You’re everything to me too. Everything. But that means I need my world to be bigger than it is right now. Because what the hell am I going to do if something happens to you?”

“Nothing will—”

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