Page 55 of The Attraction

“Keep telling yourself that, Harper, but we both know that’s not true. You know where to find me.” He walks out of my room, closing the door behind him, and I break out into sobs and let out all the fear of the dream, the pain of being in the dark in my own life, and most of all, remorse over hurting Forrest. Strangely enough, that’s the thing that hurts the most.

I pull my bear from the floor next to my side of the bed where he had fallen when I fell asleep and hug him, but for the first time, he doesn’t bring me any relief.

“Why is everything falling apart?” I whisper into the night. No answer comes, and it’s then I understand that if I’m ever going to grow past this, I need to face it head-on.

Tossing and turning in my bed, I try to calm my irrational brain, but it’s not working. Watching the clock on my phone, it’s been over an hour since I woke up screaming, and it feels like the longest night of my life.

So many questions are running through my head.

If he has been lying with me every night, why didn’t I feel him there? Why did I feel so calm every morning when I woke and not remember the dream? Why do I let him touch me like that, hug me, and not get that awful sick feeling that I have had since the day my dad left me?

I know what I need to do, and as hard as this is, the only person who can give me the answers is the man that I sent away. Something deep in my soul aches for him to hug me, and I don’t know what to do with that feeling either.

I throw the covers back, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and I sit for a moment, trying to talk myself out of this. It’s a bad idea, yet I can’t see any other way to move forward.

Pushing up off the bed, my toes sink into the soft carpet, and I slowly start moving toward the door.

Opening it, I see that Forrest has left his open. Did he do this every night waiting for me to scream? Why am I punishing a man who just wants to help me? He hasn’t hurt me like my father, yet I’m putting him in the same category as I do every man I meet. They are to be used, kept at a distance, and remain the enemy. That way they can’t hurt me like my dad did.

But Forrest isn’t trying to hurt me, it’s the opposite, where I think he cares for me more than I know how to handle.

Stopping in the doorway to his room, I can see his silhouette lying flat on his back. His bedroom curtains are open, and it’s a full moon. The light is enough to see his face, and his eyes are open just looking at me, but he doesn’t say anything. I don’t either. But I know I need to.

The moment I get the courage to open my mouth, he flicks the covers back on the side of the bed closest to me and puts his arms out for me. My heart is racing, while my head is questioning if I can do this.

Up until an hour ago, I had no idea that he had been holding me, so this time I need to make the conscious choice, and that is what he is pushing me to do. No matter how much I just hurt him, he is still opening himself up to me.

Once I take the first step into his room, there is no going back. Because if I stop moving forward, I will just continue to spiral backward, and I don’t want to do that anymore. It’s not who I am, or who I want to be.

But as soon as I crawl into his bed and his arms draw me to him, I can breathe again. And not that shallow in and out that just lets me survive. No, that deep soul-filling oxygen that lets my body step back from the edge of the cliff. As every breath fills my lungs, my body takes another step back onto more solid ground.

“I need you,” I whisper into his chest where I have buried my head to hear his steady heartbeat.

“I know.” It wasn’t an I-told-you-so moment but just a simple acknowledgment that we are both now on the same page. “Shhh, just rest.” I don’t know how he knows what I need before I do. It’s like he can read my body better than I can, and that scares me.

Just being in his arms is a warmth that fills my whole body. A sensation that I have denied myself for so long. I didn’t want to let someone in so they could hurt me, but more importantly, I didn’t think I was worth it. My father didn’t love me enough to stay and fight his way out of his mess, so if he didn’t, then no one else will either. I can’t take that risk. And although I am seeking comfort in Forrest’s arms, we both know this can’t be forever. I made that clear from the beginning.

But this is about me finding the answers I need.

It’s like his touch has poured strength into my body, and even though I’m still feeling so raw and vulnerable, it’s time.

“How many nights have you slept in my bed?” I question.

“Every night since the second night you moved in with me, but I don’t sleep. I just hold you until you are peaceful again and then leave.”

“How long does that take?” I ask.

“Sometimes an hour, sometimes two. But I won’t lie, I find it hard to leave you, so I stay longer, just holding you, wishing it was real.” The last few words are so quiet, I almost don’t catch them.

“Christ, Forrest, you must be exhausted.” I can’t help but feel guilty for his lack of sleep.

“No, I don’t care about that.” His reply is stern.

“But I do.” As I speak, his hands are rubbing up and down my back again, and I never realized how soothing that could be to have someone’s hands on me but not in a sexual way. This is totally different.

Taking another deep breath, I carry on. “What do I do in my sleep?” I know what is happening in my nightmare, but I don’t know how I’m reacting in the real world.

“The first night when I heard you crying, I came in and you were looking for something, but I then worked out it was your father when you started calling for him while looking out the window.”

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