Page 167 of Make Me Trust Again
His eyes fly open, lips parting in surprise.
“I love your fierce nature and your protective heart. I love your quiet acceptance and how you’ll go an extra mile for people you care about. I see your pain, and my heart aches for you and everything you’ve been through. Every scar. Every broken piece and bruise. I love all of them because they made you into the man I got to know. I’m not afraid of you, Chase.”
“You should be.”
“Well, I’m not.” My throat bobs as I swallow, but I let my truth out. “I’m not afraid of your darkness. But I’mterrifiedof you going through that door and never getting you back. That’s one loss I don’t think I can come back from.”
“I can’t bear hurting you,” he croaks out.
“You won’t.”
“You can’t be sure. The nightmares…” He shakes his head, his gaze turning distant. “Sometimes they’re so real. And I can’t get out.”
Oh, Chase.I slide my thumb over his cheekbone. “Is that why you weren’t there when I woke up?”
He nods. “I don’t sleep much. Rarely in bed at all. I’m afraid of what’ll pop up if I keep my eyes closed for too long. I couldn’t save them.”
My heart hurts for him, for everything he’s endured. Everything he’s still going through, day in and day out, all the pain and blame he’s putting on himself.
I let my finger skim over his scars. The reminder of whatever it is that’s haunting him. A reason that he’s still alive and here with me.
“Come back to bed with me?” Lowering my hand, I intertwine my fingers with his.
“Rose…”
“Please? You were there for me when I needed it. Let me be here for you now.”
He lets out a shaky breath but allows me to pull him to the bed. I push his pants down, not wanting anything to be between us, before getting on the bed and extending my hand to him so he can climb next to me. I lean against the headboard and open my arms so he can rest against me, his warm skin touching mine.
“Rose?”
Chase’s arms wrap around me tightly, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, I’ll disappear.
“Hmm?”
“You have to get away.”
“What?”
He tilts his head back, his serious eyes meeting mine. “When I have a nightmare again. You have to get away. Promise me.”
I tighten my grip on his hair. “I’m not leaving you.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I press my finger against his lips. “It’s not up for discussion. Want it or not, I’m here for you. I can just hold you. Or I can listen. If you want me to, I’ll always be here ready to listen.”
His lips are pressed in a tight line, that mask of calm composure back in place.
As much as I would want him to tell me what’s troubling him, I understand his need to keep it to himself, because thetruth is, no matter how much I want to, I would never be able to understand it, and talking about it might bring even more painful memories. But maybe, just maybe, one day, he’d be able to share even a tiny part of this life with me.
“So fucking stubborn.”
The corner of my mouth tips upward. “I thought you liked it.”
“I do, but not when it’s directed at me.”
“I guess you’ll just have to learn how to deal with it.”
The silence settles over us as we just lie like that. His head is resting against my chest, and my fingers are running through his hair. His breathing has calmed down, and I can feel the strong beat of his heart. It’s one of my favorite sounds in the world. Strong and steady. Just like the man himself.
Absentmindedly, I trace the tip of my finger over his cheek. He’s so still, for a moment I wonder if he fell asleep, but then he leans into my touch, and I get a glimpse of that faraway look on his face.
