Page 83 of This Wild Heart

I rolled my forehead against hers and sighed. “You could slap me. Punch me. Do one of those sexy kicks that scared the shit out of me.”

Anya let out a watery laugh, her hands coming up to hold my wrists. “I’m not going to do that either.”

“Why not?”

“You’re scared,” she told me, her eyes holding mine steady. Anya was the only thing keeping me anchored, and that was even more terrifying than anything else. Asking someone to carry all the shit you kept locked inside was a tremendous responsibility, and it wasn’t one she had asked for. “You don’t want to lose anything else. It’s impossible to imagine burying both parents, Parker. No one is mad at you for struggling with that.”

I pinched my eyes shut and inhaled the scent of her skin. There was no speaking around the block in my throat. It was bigger than me. Bigger than her. Bigger than anything I could think of.

“But even if he’s not yours, it still might hurt to say goodbye to him,” she said quietly like she hadn’t just ripped my heart clean from my chest by putting words to something that I refused to poke at. “Keeping yourself away from him won’t change that. It’ll hurt for me when I have to say goodbye to him someday too.”

I tore my hands off of her and strode away, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

Temporary. This was temporary.

It wasn’t real, no matter how good it felt.

Another thing I’d lose.

Suddenly, I was exhausted down to my bones. A heaviness pulled on my joints, and all I wanted was to tip my head back and scream, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy to get everything out.

“So then what? I just keep pushing through and hope it goes away?”

“Yes.” I turned and gave her an incredulous look, but she wasn’t done. “What do you think your dad had to do after your mom died?”

Boom.

My knees almost fucking gave out, and my eyes stayed locked on hers while denial clawed its way up my throat.

“He lost his wife. His best friend, right?” Anya took another step, and I wanted to back away because I was too raw to have her hands on me. “He had three boys who needed him, who needed love and hugs and support, and he did that, just like my dad did because it’s what we needed from them. It was probably the hardest fucking thing he’s ever done in his life. Both of them. But they did it because if we don’t keep showing up in our own lives, then that life happens without us in it.” She swiped at her face, crying openly now. “Loss doesn’t ever go away, Parker. We build our lives around it, and eventually, it feels just a little bit smaller. You’re trying to get rid of it, and youcan’t.”

My vision blurred, but I blinked until the hot press of tears disappeared. There was nothing I could say. There was nothing but an aching humility and a stunning truth that hadn’t occurred to me before. I was too wrapped up in my own pain, knots of grief that felt impossible to undo on my own.

But maybe that was my problem; trying to do it alone.

Anya carefully studied my face and took another step closer. Her hand was warm when it slid down my forearm, her fingers weaving between mine. My other hand slid over her cheek, tangling into the silk of her hair. My thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and she closed her eyes.

“You’re right,” I admitted in a rough voice. I let out a shuddering breath, my thumb still brushing back and forth along that impossibly soft mouth. It stopped, hovering for a moment.

Tap.

Her eyes opened, searching mine.

Tap, tap.

Her brow furrowed slightly, watching me to see what I’d do next.

“I just need a little time with that,” I told her. “Is that okay?”

After a brief pause, she nodded.

“Your family?” she asked.

“Tomorrow. I’ll talk to them tomorrow.”

Anya gave me a tiny smile, and when she pulled away, there was a ghostly tug on my ribs, like my entire body wanted to follow her. As she walked away, it was still there, and when she was out of view, it still felt like she had her grip on that invisible rope.

Instead of sinking down onto the ground with my back braced against a post, I tucked my hands into my pockets and walked out of the back door to the barn, squinting up into the sunlight. The light was golden coming through the trees, dust motes dancing in the air, and I breathed in the smell of the forest.

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