Page 183 of Glass Jawed
But unlike the park, I held it together. Just enough. Just long enough to offer the comfort I failed to give her that night. Because this time, I was present. This time, I was hers to hold.
Her body trembled in my arms—again.
Two nights in a row.
My heart bled for her. Ached with a guilt so raw I thought it might consume me whole.
But then... shesaidit.
The words I’d convinced myself I would never hear.
“I love you.”
And just like that, everything stopped.
I didn’t realize I was shaking until I could feel her hands, even through the dryness of her henna, grounding me. I don’t know what I was saying—probably something too desperate, too broken—but I must’ve been holding her so tightly she could feel every ounce of it. Like I could absorb her through my skin. LikeI could take those words and embed them into my bones so I’dneverforget how it felt.
Her beautiful gift of three words.
They didn’t erase the others—the words she’d spoken in pain.
But they eclipsed them.Outshinedthem.
Rewrote the story they’d tried to tell.
She loves me.
God. She loves me.
I want to fall to my knees. I want to scream. I want to thank whatever twist of fate brought me back to her.
And yet, my first instinct is to reject it.
To tell myself I don’t deserve it. That I’m still the selfish bastard who broke her heart, broke hertrust. That I should be cast out, not brought in.
But I stop.
Because this time—I don’t want to run from it.
I have her love. She’sgivenit to me—freely.
So I try—really try—to hold onto what she’s given... instead of what I think I don’t deserve.
Jesus Christ.
This woman loves me.
I close my eyes, grounding myself. My chest heaves once, twice. I focus on keeping my breathing steady because if I lose it now, I’ll spiral.
Then I feel her.Reallyfeel her.
She’s still curled into me, her soft breaths fanning against the side of my neck.
And beneath my hand—resting gently on her chest—I feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat.
Slow.Rhythmic.
I feel the warmth. The gentle cadence.
