Page 166 of Mine Again
When we got back to the house, we cooked and enjoyed a scrumptious meal. Then we cleaned up and watched a movie.
It was all so… domestic. Normal, yet refreshingly new. Because it’s not something we’ve had before. It felt like the life we might’ve built if we’d ever had the chance.
Settled, but still laced with that constant urge to touch. To stay connected, even in the smallest ways. And oh, did I bask in those small gestures.
Him grabbing both sides of my hips to peek over my shoulder, pretending he was checking if I was cutting the carrots thin enough. Pressing a kiss to the top of my head while we were curled up on the couch. Rolling his eyes as he rearranged the spice jars into his preferred order after I’d shoved them back in haphazardly.
Okay, I might’ve done that on purpose. I knew it would bug him.
We both held back, though. Not with the teasing, but with the affection.
It’s not that I didn’t want to shower him with the love and longing I’ve stored up for five long years, I just wasn’t quite ready to open that door again. And Luca, honorable as ever, has respected that.
My mind kept circling back to what he said at the archery range. Listening to him lay it all out, the plans he made, the boundaries he wouldn’t cross, the quiet ways he tried to get back to me… it softened the sharp edges his absence from my life had left.
He walked a razor’s edge to protect what we had, even if that meant waiting in agony.
I slip beneath the covers, bracing for that first shock of cold sheets against bare skin. Instead my legs meet delicious warmth.
Curious, I lift the blanket and spot a hot water bottle near my feet.
Damn this man.
Luca’s thoughtfulness tugs at my heart, melting away yet another layer of resistance that wants to cling to the hurt of the past.
The sound of running water drifts from behind the bathroom door. He’s still in the shower, and honestly, I’m relieved.
He doesn’t need to see the emotional tug-of-war I’m sure is playing out all over my face.
I feel like I need to make a decision. Aboutus.
Am Iallin again?
I lean over and press my face into his pillow. Just for a moment. Just to inhale his scent.
As if that alone somehow holds the answer I’m looking for.
Do I actually have to decide? Some things work themselves out naturally.
After this morning’s gym moment, I wasn’t sure of anything.
Not about him. Not about the last five years. Least of all, myself.
Everything I thought I knew had blurred, like someone had smeared the edges of my reality.
It’s left me doubting the world around me, and my own ability to read it.
To trust what I feel.
I hadn’t realized how deeply that uncertainty had gotten under my skin until I found myself hesitating. Holding back. Afraid to reach for him. Afraid of dragging the past into every new moment.
But our time at the archery range grounded me. It reset the way I look at him, the way I look atus.
Because being with him is so damn easy.
We slipped back into our old rhythm like no time had passed. We bantered and laughed like we’d never hurt each other.
And perhaps that’s what scares me most.
