“Hey, you’re up,” I greet.
He plants his palms to the counter. “Yeah…”
“Oh, I borrowed your phone to call Maggie. And then I wanted to listen to music while I cooked but didn’t want to wake you with the house system, so I propped it up here up to use YouTube instead.”
“That’s fine.”
I clear the spice bottles from the counter.
“What?” I ask with a smile when he doesn’t stop staring at me.
“Just…” He shakes his head. “You’re good?”
“Why? Because I’m listening to gospel music?” I roll my eyes. “I just thought, after everything, my soul could take some cleansing.”
“No, of course that’s not what I—” He shakes his head again and straightens. “I’m just happy you’re okay, that’s all.”
Although Trent has been here for me in all the ways that I’ve needed, with silence and hugs and as a literal shoulder to lean on, I know he’s been hiding his own worry and concern for me. Which no doubt runs along the lines of: How deeply has what I experienced and witnessed affected me? How would I deal? How long of a haul was he in for?
What I’ve experienced and witnessed isn’t something he or anyone else can help with. It’s all up to me. Will I allow it to affect me?
I’ve decided that I won’t, in any way or at any depth.
I did nothing wrong.
Nothing.
Bad decisions were made which yielded horrific consequences. But none of it is going to steal my joy or ruin my life. Andthat’swhere my head is at. Not on the bad, not on the negative, not on thepast, but on thegoodthat’s standing right in front of me now and theawesomethat awaits me in the future.
I wipe my hand on a kitchen towel then round the island to him. With a narrowed gaze, he watches me approach him.
Tipping up on my toes, I lock my arms around his neck and touch my lips to his. Soft, gentle, confident.
As his hands drift up to my waist, I meet his gaze, locking it in place as I tell him, “I’m fine. I’m okay. And,thank you.”
He holds my gaze for several heartbeats. Then, his eyes shutter closed and a long, ragged breath leaves him as his forehead drops to mine.
I can feel the tension leave him, his whole body relaxing. It’s as if he’d been holding his breath all this time.
A sudden lightness swirls around us, and it’s then I consider how much of a toll this must have taken on him.
Also,he still cares.
We’d been over. Our little fling, done.
He’d not asked me to stay.
I’d been one day away from leaving.
I’d told him off.
There’s no way he would’ve gone the lengths he had for me if he didn’t still feelsomethingfor me.
And Ineedthat something he still feels for me. Dear God,I need it. To feed it, water it, nurture it until it grows back to what it was all those years ago when I was too oblivious to notice it.
And then, evenbigger. Stronger.Undying.
This man will go to the ends of the earth for me, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with him.