Page 77 of Until You Found Me

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispers, trying to urge him in closer, but he resists.

“I’m fine. I am. I’m good.”

His protest flows on the end of a sniffle as he covers his face with both hands, fighting the desire to roll off the bed and run for the bathroom where she can’t see him fall apart. Wishes they got dressed after that shower instead of going to bed naked. Running across the room with his dick swinging just feels obscene.

Gently, she pries his palms away from his face until he has no choice but to look at her. Once the barrier is gone and he finds only acceptance in her expression, only concern in the worry lines between her eyes, he gives in.

Logan curls into her on his side, weak for affection. Presses his face to her neck, having to scoot down to line up, but then he’s cocooned in her embrace so perfectly it aches somewhere deep in his heart as she wraps around him at every contact point. Tessa pulls him close enough he can feel her heartbeat like a soothing metronome and lets him push a leg between both of hers so he can wedge in far as possible and it’s still not close enough.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps.

“Why? You haven’t done anything.”

For wanting to leave you, he says in his head.

After passing out in the woods and spending the night in the clinic, he hasn’t taken much of it in. Shock settled over him like a cold blanket, blocking out the worst of his fears to give him time to breathe. The blissful state of denial is long gone now, and the truth hits him like a bullet.

This type of soul-sucking grief that shatters his bones and leaves him dizzy isn’t familiar. He hasn’t cried since he was a child in his room alone, mourning the loss of his mother. He’s numbed himself since then, learned over the years thatnot thinking about itcan keep him relatively sane and cryingdoesn’t help shit. Even now, he is reserved and silent. He has to compensate, after all. His health is already his biggest weakness, adding any emotional displays will only drive her away.

She hasn’t left yet, though. She holds him as he cries because he misses her already and he hasn’t even died yet.

He finally found the only person on earth who loves him and he isn’t allowed to keep her. None of it is fair, not that he isn’t used to unfairness, but this time it cuts deeper and he bleeds hotter.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he muffles into her collarbone.

“Hey, look at me,” she says firmly, encouraging his face up and shimmying down until he’s drowning in the wet shimmer of her eyes. “You aren’t leaving. That’s not happening. We’re gonna figure this out, me and you, and you’ll beat this. If you don’t believe that yourself yet, then trust me, okay? Because I believe it enough for both of us.”

He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, wary of agreeing.

“I mean it,” she continues. “This isn’t over, and we aren’t going to behave like it is. You’ll be fine. You’ll stay on dialysis until you get a transplant and then we’re still sailing to Canada one day. We’re still growing old together right here by the ocean. Understand?”

Maybe her certainty is a mask for his benefit, but even so, it’s a skillfully crafted one and she’s damn good at it. Good enough that a part of him starts to wonder what if…

What if he doesn’t die? What if they aren’t over? What if he’s conditioned to expect the worst outcome, but this time he gets lucky?

“Not in this trailer, though. We’ll be somewhere nicer when we’re old,” he agrees with a final sniffle.

She huffs. “I’d live in a tent in the woods with you and be happy.”

He doesn’t know how he got so damn lucky or how she hasn’t washed her hands of him yet. In the back of his mind, he wonders if she still might. When things get harder, she might leave him, but he wouldn’t blame her for it. Wants to believe it when she says that this isn’t over and he’ll beat it, but the fact remains that he won’t take her kidney and the odds of finding another are low.

Still, he’s cried out all the tears he can for one night and his desire to save her by leaving has faded.

“Will you call your sister, please?” she says softly. “Let her know what’s happening so she can make an informed choice about coming back to get tested.”

“Audrey asked before we left when you were in the bathroom. Told her she could call.”

“That’s good, that’s-”

“Carley won’t come back. She won’t even return the call, I already know it. She was done with me a long time ago, Tessa. I already accepted that.” Her frown is heavy, a flash of anger in her eyes surprising him. “Hey, don’t hate her, okay? We both got the short stick growing up in that house. She didn’t have it easy. If she wants to blame me it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, you were both children.”

“It has to be okay,” he replies. “It has to be.”

She doesn’t question him further and they lapse into a delicate silence, his body nestled to hers and her nails scratching lightly over his skin, prompting goosebumps.

He’s been soft until now but her slow strokes coax his desire to the surface and he hardens against the apex of her thighs. His emotions are running haywire. It’s only a short circuitmisfiring due to the overload of anxiety coupled with her proximity. His body doesn’t understand any of it and defaults to the one thing that makes sense. The underside of the shaft nestles in her heat without dipping inside, resting there as if it’s where he belongs and in moments like this he’s convinced it is.

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