Page 21 of Twice in a Lifetime

I’d felt that way more times than I could count. It was easy to believe when your own parents didn’t love you enough to stick around. But making Blythe feel that? I would never forgive myself.

She was the one person on this planet I knew deserved nothing but good days and happiness.

“Angel, you’re breaking my fuckin’ heart.” My throat tightened as I stretched my fingers out and pressed my palm to the side of her neck, caressing her silky skin gently. “There isn’t a single thing wrong with you. You are perfect.” I stepped closer, bringing my other hand up to brush her wild hair back from her eyes and cup her cheek.

“Then why?” she rasped as a wave of silent tears started to fall.

I knew what she was asking. She wasn’t asking me why her father had chosen drugs and crime over her. She wasn’t asking why her husband had betrayed the vows he’d taken. She didn’t want me to tell her why those men hurt her. She was asking whyIhad.

“Because I was the one who was broken, Angel. It was me who didn’t deserve you. I knew from the moment you gave me your heart I wasn’t good enough.” I squeezed my eyes closed and lowered my head, resting my forehead against hers. Her small hands came up and pressed against my chest, burning my skin like a brand. It was a searing pain that somehow felt overwhelming and incredible at the same time, and I would have gladly felt that way every single day of my life if it meant staying connected with her. “You were all that was good in the world. You were light and beauty and happiness.”

Her fingers curled, her nails scraping across my pecs as she fisted the fabric of my shirt.

“You are more than good enough. You’re more than deserving of love, and I know that because I’ve never stopped. Even after I broke us, I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second of a single minute in a single day.”

She pulled in a gasping breath, her head tilting back so her eyes could meet mine. Those Caribbean blue depths were full of shock and confusion. It probably wasn’t the right time to tell her that after everything she’d already been through today—or hell,the past several months—but I couldn’t go another second with her thinking she wasn’t worthy of love. She had to know she was special. She was worth waiting an eternity for.

“Rhodes,” she whispered. My name on those lips was a blessing and a curse all at once. The way she was looking up at me made me feel like the most important person in the world. I felt that undeniable tug grow stronger, giving me no choice but to get closer to her. It wasn’t a want, it was a need—like oxygen or water. Blythe was essential to living. That was why I’d only led half an existence since letting her go.

More and more of the distance between us disappeared as my eyes dropped to her lips. That plump bottom lip called to me, begging to be nipped and licked. “Angel.”

She blinked, and I saw the instant the bubble around us burst right before she took a step back from me. For the shortest moment, her guard had fallen, but as I watched, she re-erected those protective walls of hers and coated them in the same shit Captain America’s shield was made of.

“I—I have to go.”

I stood rooted to the ground as I watched her disappear into the trees, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that watching her walk away from me was something I would never get used to.

Chapter Twelve

Blythe

Icouldn’t remember the last time I felt this exhausted. I was wrung out, emotionally and physically. Everything hurt.

I’d texted Tristan to make sure it was okay to leave the kids with him for the night as soon as I got back to my car, and after he replied that he had everything covered, I drove to the opposite side of town.

My brother must have called in advance and told her everything, because my mother was already sitting out on her front porch by the time I turned my SUV into her driveway. I thought I was all cried out, but the second I saw her the tears started all over again. Mom stood from the top step as I climbed out of the car and rounded the hood.

“Mommy—”

My voice broke on that one word, my face crumpling into a sob.

Tears filled her eyes as she opened her arms. “Oh, my honey pie. Come here.”

I threw myself into her arms and let her hold me as I let it all out for the second time in just a matter of hours. But at least in her arms, I knew I was safe. As she held me, a sense of comfort washed over me that this was exactly where I needed to be to start healing.

Stepping into the break room,I headed straight for the fancy coffee maker Dr. Shaundry had purchased for us and set about making my second cup of the morning. I was going to need it. After the emotional upheaval of the day before, I was running on fumes. I’d cried on my mother’s shoulder until I finally passed out, spending the night on her oversized sectional couch, but even eight uninterrupted hours hadn’t been enough to shake off the exhaustion. It was going to be a three-cup day, at least, if I didn’t want to fall asleep at my desk.

I was watching the stream of the dark liquid drip into my mug when I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

“Good morning,” Merritt offered as she moved to the fridge to stow away her lunch.

“Morning,” I returned, my smile feeling tight, given that most of my face was still a bit swollen from my crying jag. I knew the half-hearted job with concealer I’d attempted this morning had been a waste when I saw her eyes widen as she took me in.

“Are—” She swallowed, and I could see the uncertainty in her pretty face before she pushed past it to ask, “Are you all right?”

I could have lied and given some boilerplate response. Something along the lines of “Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” or, “I just didn’t sleep well last night,” but as I took her in, it hit me that the truth might be a way in.

“At the moment, no. I’m feeling especially shitty right now, but I’m hopeful I’ll be okay eventually.”

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