Page 39 of Freeing Denver
Sebastian’s eyes shine. “How can I not feel anything?”
“What did you want to feel?”
He opens his mouth but must struggle with the words, because at first, he says nothing. He looks at me, clearly fighting his tears.
“I thought it’d fix me.”
Months ago, I sat in an elevator and told Denver that revenge would get her nowhere. I told her the pain wouldn’t ease, and if she ever stood over my brother’s body, nothing would change for her. She was punishing herself by hunting him.
And now I’m punishing myself for losing him.
Where will that get me? I can let the guilt eat me alive if I want. I can spiral, go down a dangerous path and let my hate snatch what I have left.
Or I can take my own advice and not let the past destroy me.
“Maybe you were already fixed,” I offer quietly. “I guess sometimes we get so lost in grief we forget we’re still moving. Then when we get a glimpse into life, we realize we’re missing it.”
I’ve lost enough people to know that.
Sebastian sniffs and blinks the gleam from his eyes before standing. “Rest. Keep Denver happy. Doing those two things will keep you alive.”
He’s at the door when I speak again. “I’m sorry for what my brother took from you.”
Sebastian watches me, and I try to remember what Denver told me about Ethan’s friend. A good man, she’d said. Someone better than all of us. I see that in him, the patience that a healer should have.
“I’m sorry you feel like you have to apologize for something he did,” he says quietly and offers me a weak smile before leaving.
A glaring, painful truth spoken by an almost total stranger.
It hurts. It’s painful, and freeing, and fucking awful.
My throat thickens and I swallow, trying to push down the lump that keeps growing.
The words. The night. The pain. It’s all too much.
The first tear falls and I let out a shuddering breath, dropping my head back. I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting the urge to let the day consume me.
I feel her before I see her.
Denver climbs onto the couch, straddling my hips, and wraps her arms around me. I bury my face in her chest and she holds me.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re safe with me. You can break now.”
And I do.
I shatter.
I cling to the woman I love, my safety, the person I trust most in the world, and I sob. I cry for my brother, for his mistakes and mine. I cry for my father, who never told me who I was to him.
I cry because I am so damn tired.
And when the tears stop, Denver takes my hand. She walks me upstairs, and we get into bed, and she cuddles into me like nothing has changed.
Because nothing will change for us in the most perfect way. She will always be a constant presence, a beacon of strength and hope, a woman I will love as long as my heart beats. No matter what happens, our love is steadfast, and I lean into that.
“Thank you.”
She kisses my chest. “You never have to thank me. This is what love is.” She angles her head to look at me, her smile small but true. “And I’ll only ever know how to love you for the rest of my life.”
