Page 54 of Only ever you-Ana & Byron
"You're gonna say I should see someone else too, aren't you?"
"You need more than talkin', Ana," he said softly. "This isn't just some bad trip. You passed out in my arms. That's not nothin'."
She nodded, eyes glassy but dry.
"I know. I just... I don't want it to define me."
A beat. A breath.
"I get jumpy when the fire alarm goes off. Can't handle strong perfume. My ears ring sometimes, like a whistle I can't shut off. And the blackout ,that was the third one. It felt like I was back there. In pieces."
Byron stepped forward and took the mug gently from her hand, setting it aside before taking her hand in his big ones.
"You aren't in pieces, love. You're here. You're safe. And you're not doin' this alone."
She leaned into him slowly, forehead resting against his bare shoulder.
"Don't say anything nice. I'll cry and ruin my reputation."
He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head.
"Alright. I'll just call you an annoying cow later to balance it out."
***
Chapter twenty-four
Chapter 23
Over the next few weeks
They'd fallen into a rhythm. Ana practically moved in without her even noticing, only going back to her place for fresh clothes or when she needed a moment to breathe. Byron always offered to drive her.
Sometimes she'd find post-it notes on the fridge:
"Raisin cake and peanut bun in the fridge-Use by 3pm –or don't if you have self-control.–B"
"Left you the last pancake. You're welcome. Also, I love you. Don't fight it."
It wasn't the first time he'd said it.
The first time had been in the steam and slick of the shower, water beating down on them both as Ana clung to his shoulders and he held her up like she weighed nothing. They hadn't even made it past brushing their teeth that morning. One look and he had her pressed against the cold tile, her name gritted through his teeth like a prayer.
Afterward, as they leaned breathless against the wall, chests heaving, water cascading between them, Byron rested his forehead against hers.
"I love you, Ana girl," he murmured.
She stiffened.
"Was that the orgasm talking?" she asked, trying for humour but not quite hitting the right note.
He didn't laugh.
He gently let her down. Then he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out of the shower. No teasing this time. No smartass quip.
"I'll make an omelette," he muttered over his shoulder.
Ana felt like she had kicked a puppy. By the time Ana made it to the kitchen, he was already at the stove. The smell of butter and eggs filled the space. He had his back to her.
