Page 82 of Most Likely to Fear Love

The sight of the black nightgown he’d laid out on the bed pulled at something deep inside me and I had to blink back tears.

Imagine if I was a different person. If I was a person who’d never met Brian. Married Brian. Been torn to pieces by Brian. I could have enjoyed all of this so much more without all the fucking angst.

I swallowed hard, feeling my eyes sting as I changed out of my work clothes and into the nightgown. It was longer than the others, hitting mid thigh, but it was pretty sheer, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. In other circumstances, I would have smiled, picturing him picking this out for me. But not tonight.I took a moment, drawing in a shaky breath before heading back out to the kitchen. Harle was still focused on whatever he was cooking. I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself.

“Do you need any help with that?”

“No, all good. Just get yourself a drink and take a seat. It’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

I grabbed a soda from the fridge and made my way to the dining room table, sinking into one of the chairs. Buddy followed, his heavy body leaning against my leg as I absentmindedly patted his head. His presence was comforting, but it didn’t do much to lift the heaviness I felt. I flicked a glance at Harle, only to find his eyes on me. Fuck.

“You okay, darlin’?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again, couldn’t risk it.“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” His tone was gentle but unconvinced. “I don’t think that’s true.”

I shrugged, still not looking at him. “Just a shitty anniversary that snuck up on me. No big deal.”

“Yeah? I’ve got one of those coming up. They suck.”

“They do.”

The kitchen fell quiet except for the soft bubbling of whatever was on the stove. Harle’s movements were deliberate as he chopped vegetables, the steady rhythm of the knife against the cutting board almost hypnotic. After a while, he set down his knife.

“Actually, I could do with a hand over here, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, sure.”

I got up, patting Buddy one last time before crossing over to the kitchen. Harle handed me a wooden spoon and gestured to the pot on the stove. “Just keep stirring this, nice and slow. I need to finish up these vegetables.”

I took the spoon, the steam rising from the pot carrying the scent of some sort of tomato-based sauce, maybe with a bit of spice. I glanced at him, my eyebrows lifting. “You sure you’re not just giving me busy work?”

He shot me a knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Maybe. But I figured it might help.”

I huffed a soft laugh, shaking my head as I stirred the sauce. He wasn’t wrong, I guess. It was kind of nice, having something to do with my hands. Something simple, something that required just enough focus to push out the heavier thoughts.

“Alright, that’s good.” He leaned against the counter, his hands in his pockets. “You can put the lid back on now.”

I did as he asked, placing the lid carefully on the pot and turning back to him, biting my lip, unsure what to do next. Stay here? Go back to the table? Run away? I folded my arms across my middle protectively.

Feeling his gaze on me, I risked another glance. Oh god, the understanding in his eyes nearly undid me. He reached out,running his knuckles gently down my cheek. “I know you’re not much of a hugger, but I’ve got a question for you?”

“What’s that?”

“Maybe you could consider being a huggee for a little while?”

I hesitated for a moment. There was a part of me that wanted to say no, to just brush it off and put distance between us. But instead, I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Slowly, he slid his hands under my elbows. Widening his stance, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his feet. Then he wrapped his arms around me, his warmth surrounding me like a shield. Even then, I couldn’t relax, standing there as stiff as a board with my face pressed against his chest. I had to fight the instinct to pull away. God, I was so fucked up.

But his hand rubbed soft circles on my back, and I felt myself relax, if only a little.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. His voice was a low rumble against my ear. “Just a few moments longer, I promise.”

That actually made me smile. As the seconds ticked by, I felt the tension in my shoulders start to ease. Harle’s steady heartbeat thrummed against my cheek, and his scent filled my head. Slowly, almost without realizing it, I uncrossed my arms. My hands found their way to his sides, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. I let out a shaky breath, the ache in my chest starting to ease. For the first time today, I felt like I could actually breathe properly.

---