Page 125 of Love Sick

Why won’t you say it back?

Grace

MARCH, YEAR 2

Love.

An interesting concept from the outside.

On the inside, it’s like standing in a diamond while sunlight shines through. Facets of light reflect in every corner. Dazzling rainbows sparkle over each surface.

All is warm and bright and endless.

I don’t trust it.

Diamonds are beautiful, but hard. They can break under pressure.

They can be faked.

Julian wouldn’t do that, though.

You’ve thought that before.

Two months have passed since he claimed he loves me, yet I can’t silence the voice in my head. It reminds me of the last man who declared himself in love with me.

He lied.

Love doesn’t leave scars.

It doesn’t humiliate.

It’s not conditional.

That man’s “love” broke me, and I wish I’d healed. I wish I could forget him. I wish I could trust myself and this gut instinct that says Julian isn’t lying.

But I don’t. It all feels too good to be true.

I roll over in bed and kiss Julian’s shoulder. He’s deeply asleep, one hand laying on his chest, the other curled around my wrist. Even in sleep, he finds ways to touch me. The silver March moonlight lines his face. His jaw and nose cut sharp edges through the dark, but sprinkles of moon dust settle on his cheeks and eyelids, highlighting his eyelashes. He’s silver-lined.

I love you.

In my mind, the words are easy. In my mouth, they disappear.

I’m selfish not to tell him. He opened himself to me. I should give him the same courtesy. This adoration deep in the marrow of my bones is unmistakable. I love him, but if I say the words, it’s real. If I say them, I relinquish all power.

I need to trust him, and I can’t figure out how.

Tears spring to my eyes. Trusting someone with the most vulnerable part of myself nearly destroyed me once. How do I find the capacity to risk it again? How do people fall in love over and over again? How do they heal their broken and betrayed hearts? How do they erase pathologic beliefs buried in their minds?

My finger drifts down Julian’s chest, over his hand to his stomach. He stirs with a deep scratchy rumble in his throat. It’s hours before either of us need to wake, but I roused from a nightmare not long ago, and this man is human perfection.

I can’t say it, but I can show him how I feel.

Pressing my naked body against him, I kiss his chest, then his neck. He grunts again when my lips brush across his throat, over his pulse, the turn of his jaw. The rumble in his chest vibrates against me.

My teeth close around his earlobe. “I want you.”I love you.

“Yeah?”

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