Page 78 of Church Girl
Then that anger flares bright, incinerating the guilt. It covers the sadness, the hurt, the love that still simmers beneath.
Anger is better.
“Is this fun for you? What kind of game are you playing? You walked away from me. You left me. And now, two weeks later, you show up here, and I’m supposed to do what? Forget there’s been radio silence? That I’m not important to you?”Not as important as you are to me. I flick my fingers at him. “There are other nannies out there, Von. I’m not irreplaceable.”
“Yeah, there are other nannies, but there ain’t anotheryou.”
“That’s what you’re going with?” I don’t try to conceal my skepticism. Or disbelief. Even though my heart swoons a little at the corny words. “No thanks. Now if there’s anything else?”
“Liyah,” Von murmurs, and I want to melt, sink into him at the sound of his low, graveled voice wrapped around my name.
Reminding me of when he growled it into my ear as he plastered his chest to my back, sliding deep inside me.
Reminding me of when he held me close and whispered it just before he brushed a kiss across my forehead.
Damn him! I was doing so good before he showed up here.
Well, not good, but I was managing. I was keeping it together and moving forward. Now his presence here has knocked me yards backward.
“Von, I don’t—”
“I’m sorry, ma. I violated that night at Tamara’s place. I left you to the fucking wolves when I should’ve stayed there, continuing to have your back and giving you a chance to explain instead of walking out and leaving you behind.” He takes a step closer to me, and I stumble back one. Stopping, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and I snatch my gaze from his mouth, returning it to his eyes. But God, that’s not any better.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, gentler.
I want to cave. I want to erase the distance between us—both physical and mental—and forget about how he hurt me. How I hurt him. But it’s not that easy. Love...is not that easy. Especially when I’m the only one suffering from it.
“Oh, now you’re willing to hear me out?” I cross my arms, not caring how defensive I might appear to him. “I asked you to let me explain that night, and I was willing to explain for days afterward. But now, on your time, you’re giving me the grace to listen?”Shut up. Shut up, I order myself. I’m letting my hurt feelings splatter all over this student parking lot. But I’m on a roll, and I can’t stop. “I never lied to you, never betrayed you. You, more than anyone else, know me—even more than Tamara, if I’m being real. And yet you were so quick, so willing to paint me with the same brush as Sheree.”
“I know, baby.”
But I barely register his agreement or the endearment that makes tears sting my eyes.
“Yes, I was engaged. But on the day of the wedding, I ran. So you were right about me being a runner, but I ended up running to something. Toward me. And finding me. That ‘me’ didn’t have a fiancé anymore. I stopped having one as soon as I jumped in that Uber and rode to Tamara’s hotel. As you saw firsthand, my parents are stubborn and only believe and accept what they want. Gregory, my ex, is cut from the same cloth. Although, I suspect his being here had less to do with him loving me and more to do with pleasing my father. Either way, I never mentioned it because Gregory was—is—a nonfactor in my life. I never loved him, and I only agreed to marry him out of obligation, the same reason he proposed to me. I never once deliberately lied or hid him from you. I just didn’tthinkabout him.”
Silence beats between us, and I look away. It’s getting too hard, and my feelings are too close to the surface. “Von, look...”
“Thank you for the explanation, but I didn’t need it. I’ve already accepted that you weren’t on no bullshit. You’re right. I did take out my past with Sheree on you when you’re nothing alike. You’d never lie to me. Never deliberately hurt me. And even that night, in the back of my mind, I knew that. But I was too scared to accept it. You’d become too important to me, too necessary, and I panicked. I was the runner that day, Liyah. Running and looking for any excuse to avoid experiencing the pain I’d suffered in my marriage. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”
I don’t reply. God, Ican’t. I’d need breath to accomplish that.
“I love you, Liyah. I think I started falling when I walked into that school and saw you sitting at the table with my little girl, looking like you’d move all the furniture in that office for her. And everything you’ve done and been since then has only dragged me deeper until I can’t see, think, smell, fuckingbewithout you. I get I hurt you. Give me a chance to make that up to you. Come back to me and Gia. Please.”
I could’ve held out against the declaration of love.
I could’ve even held out against him tossing Gia in there.
But that “please”? I have no defense against it.
Oh hell. Who am I kidding? I couldn’t have held out against none of that. He had me before he opened his mouth.
Letting my book bag slide to the pavement, I take four strides and throw myself at him. His strong arms catch me and close around me. His embrace is tight, nearing painful, but I’m not complaining. I wish he’d hold me tighter, closer. I’d crawl inside him if I could. Because here, in his arms, against his body, I’m at my safest. At my happiest.
At my most content.
“Kiss me,” he rasps, and I have no problem obeying him.
Tipping back my head, I cup the nape of his neck with one hand and the back of his head with the other. I rise on my toes and meet his mouth halfway. At my first taste of him in weeks, I whimper. I needed this. Imissedthis. So much. Yes, the passion. I mean,yeah. But more, I missed the closeness, the connection. Him.
