Page 46 of Dove
I swallowed, embarrassed, and let my iron grip on him go lax.
“I didn’t saylet go,” he chided, pushing me back with gentle force so he could shuffle his way onto the bed. He straightened the twisted covers and slipped under them before I’d even had a chance to miss him.
His arms slipped around me before I even realized I was reaching for him, pulling me back so my spine rested against the solid strength of his chest. His broad chest radiated warmth, so inviting that I melted back into it, tucking my head beneath his chin and snuggling deeper into his embrace.
A tiny part of me tingled from the thrill of us being this close, and I pushed the warning that accompanied it out of my mind all together.
After all we’d been through, we were allowed comfort, weren’t we?
That’s all this was.
My breath hitched as a large hand cupped my hip.
I waited for it to go further, or maybewishedfor it to go further, but it rested there, unmoving.
“Was it because of today?” Josh’s low voice broke through the quiet of my bedroom. “With the car?”
It took me a moment to figure out what he was asking, but then it hit me. The person who pulled out in front of us, Josh’s quick reflexes, my paralyzing fear as I was thrust back to that life changing moment in time.
But then I remembered something else. His hand holding mine, grounding me as we made our way home.
“Probably,” I admitted hoarsely, my throat sore from crying. “But…”
I bit my lip, torn. Did I want to admit that my nightmares had become regular reoccurrences again since he left? Despite the nasty, anger-filled words I’d flung at him when he’d first arrived back home, I didn’t want to make him feel guilty. But I knew he would. And I didn’t want to be reminded of the resentmentthat lingered between us right now. I just wanted… this. This moment.
“But?” Josh prodded, and his hand slipped the teensiest bit lower, his fingers now curving over the softness of my belly, which swooped at the contact. I gulped, throat dry, a thirst for something that wasn’t remotely water rising within me.
“I’ve been having them again for a while,” I confessed, burying my face in the pillow beneath my head to hide my embarrassment despite the darkness enveloping us.
His grip on me tightened slightly and my skin pebbled with little bumps as I shivered, though I felt the opposite of cold in his grasp. When it loosened, so did the breath in my lungs.
“How long is a while?” he asked, his voice adopting a forced air of casualty.
He suspected. Iknewhe suspected, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. I didn’t want to break this moment by admitting how much his absence had affected me. All I wanted to do was enjoy his warmth along my back as the little spoon and hopefully grab a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep.
I shrugged against his chest, and he let out a soft, annoyed sigh.
He leaned in closer so he could ask, “How long, Dove?” in my ear, and the movement slid his hand down even further, now directly under my navel.
I exhaled shakily and tried to focus on words instead of the blazing brand of his palm on the skin of my belly. “Three years.”
The real answer, since you’ve been gone, went unspoken. But Josh was perceptive, as always.
He pulled me back against his chest, halting my slow drift away from him that had started with each of his probing questions, and draped himself over me, his weight anchoring me in place.
“I’m sorry, little dove,” he whispered, voice genuine, breath tickling the shell of my ear as his thumb swiped back and forth under my belly button.
I waited for the promise, for him to tell me he’d never leave me again, like he had when we were teenagers. But it never came. The hurt that washed over me was as familiar as an old friend. I shouldn’t have expected it, anyway. His promises had never meant anything, not when he’d clearly never intended to keep them.
I reminded myself that having Josh here was better than not having him at all. Even though I had no idea how long he planned to stick around, at least I had him now. That was what mattered.
With that thought I allowed myself to snuggle back into him, pushing aside the selfish ache in my heart that longed to keep him.
If this was all I could have, I’d savor every second of it.
Even though I knew I’d eventually lose him—and I’d be wrecked all over again.
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