Page 197 of Ruin Me Gently

His fingers tightened slightly, his forehead lowering until it almost touched mine. “You don’t have to do it alone. Let me carry some of it. Hell, load it onto me. Break my back with it. I’ll talk to her. I want you to feel better. Therapy will help in the long run, but I don’t want you being pushed too soon.” He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving mine. “You’re not breaking even more. I won’t let that happen.”

He carried on wrapping my palms. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power to help as best as I can. Okay?”

I nodded. It was all I could manage.

“What can I do for you right now?” he asked.

“I need to get out of here,” I admitted. “And I don’t mean to the garden.”

He didn’t say anything. Just waited, body set like stone, eyes locked onto mine.

“It’s nice, but it’s not real.” I sighed.

His jaw flexed.

“I don’t want to go alone,” I continued. “I know Clark wouldn’t actually do anything if he found me. I know that. But the thought of him being out there, of—” my breath hitched. “I just don’t want to be by myself. I want you with me.”

He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t agree. Didn’t refuse. Just closed the first aid box with a quiet click, exhaled through his nose, and dragged a hand across his jaw. “Okay.”

I blinked. The tension inside me loosened, just a fraction. “Okay?” I echoed, my voice small.

“Yes.”

Relief crashed into me so fast it nearly stole my breath.

And then he ruined it. “Not today, though.”

The relief died instantly, flashing to frustration. “Why?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

I wanted to fight it, to push back, tell him I was fine—but I wasn’t fine, and we both knew it.

“We aren’t going out today. We can go out tomorrow. Right now, I need to feed you, and you need to rest. And I need to take you to bed so I can hold you and you can sleep this off.”

Something cracked inside me.

I was getting out of here.

With him by my side.

God, I might even smile at a stranger to commemorate the occasion.

Hell, I might even kiss the concrete.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

Okay, maybe I wasn’tactuallygoing to kiss the concrete.

I glanced downat the sidewalk, taking in the embedded black stains of old gum, the scuffed soles of passing shoes, a stray cigarette butt wedged into a crack in the pavement.

Yeah. Not exactly a fairytale moment.

But still—I was outside, and that alone felt like a miracle.

I lifted my gaze, taking in my surroundings properly for the first time, and—

“Oh, what the fuck.”

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