Page 76 of Make Me Trust Again
She shakes her head silently, her throat bobbing as she swallows.
Some of the tension in my chest loosens at her reassurance, but not all.
“Kyle?”
It’s the only other reason she could be crying that I can think of. Rose’s strong and fierce, and she loves her son witheverything in her. But then, would she be sitting out here if something is wrong with Kyle?
Her tongue darts out, sliding over her pink lips. I follow its path, enticed by the movement, so it takes me a moment to register her words. “He’s not here.”
Not here?
My eyes narrow. “Where is he?”
She sucks in a long breath, and I can see her brace herself for whatever she’s going to say, but even so, I’m not prepared for the words that come out of her mouth next.
“With J-John,” her voice breaks, more tears filling her eyelids.
“What? Why?”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen John with his son. Even last week, when he was here, he was with Rose, not Kyle. And the boy barely ever mentions his father.
“Divorce settlement. He wanted fifty-fifty custody, but in the end, we agreed on every other weekend.” She presses her lips into a tight line and forces out a smile, trying to keep her composure. “It’s fine. It’s just a weekend.”
Rose nods, more for her benefit than mine, as if she repeats it enough times, it will make it true. She blinks, trying so hard to fight the tears, but one slides down regardless. “It’s going to be fine. He’s going to be f-fine, right?”
Her pain and worry are so raw, I can feel my chest ache for her.
I press my lips in a tight line, unsure of what to say. I’m not a gentle man. I don’t know what to do to reassure her. These hands are good for a lot of things, but offering comfort isn’t one of them. And yet, when her lip wobbles again, and those tear-stained eyes meet mine, I simply react.
“Rose, sweetheart…”
Letting go of her jaw, my fingers slide to her cheek, brushing away the runaway tear.
I’m not sure who makes the first move, her or me. One moment, she’s sitting on the swing, looking at me with those big blue eyes, and the next, her body is pressed against mine. Her arms wrap around my waist, fingers digging into my shirt as she buries her face into my chest, and cries softly. I know because I can feel it. Feel the way her body shakes against mine, her tears drenching my already sweaty shirt. Not that she seems to care one bit. I clasp my arms around her, my palm soothing up and down her back in gentle strokes.
“Shh…” I whisper softly.“It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”
I lean my chin on top of her head, inhaling her sweet, flowery scent. It reminds me of my childhood. My mom’s garden blooming in the spring. All the different flowers, colors, and scents mix together under the bright sun. Vibrant. Enticing. Unyielding.
I’m not sure how long we stay standing like this. Each loud sob that comes out of her lungs feels like a stab to my gut. What I would do to be able to take her pain away.
Sliding my palm up her back, I place it on her nape. My thumb skims over her neck, feeling the soft skin as I tighten my hold on her.
Rose pulls back slightly, her red-rimmed eyes meeting mine as more tears fall down her pink cheeks.
“It h-hurts so m-much.”
I curse under my breath, the pain in her voice breaking something in me. Lowering my head, I press my forehead against hers.
“I know, sweetheart.” Cupping her face, I brush away the tears sliding down her cheeks, but more just keep falling.
“I need it to stop.”
I understand what she means better than she could ever realize. This need to let go of everything and just be, justbreathe.
Those blue irises are filled with pain as they stare into mine. The tension crackles to life as my calloused fingers skim over her skin. It’s impossibly soft. Her face is slightly puffy and flushed from crying, but it doesn’t make her look any less beautiful than usual. My palm skids down the side of her neck, my touch leaving goosebumps in its wake as I cup the back of her head, my fingers tangling in all that lush hair.
“Make it stop.” Her tongue darts out, sliding over her lower lip as her words hang in the air. A strand of hair is glued to her cheek, so I gently brush it away.
