Page 53 of If You Go
Tears sting before I can stop them. This man, who could break mountains with his hands, is giving me his heart like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“People may call me crazy, because, well,I love you too,” I whisper. “But I’m terrified. I’ve been hurt, Brenden. Ruined. I can’t give you much–just my heart. And someday, I’ll take over the family business, all of it. That’s my life, whether I want it or not. So if you want me, you are going to have to find a way to fit in with all this” I gesture loosely at the room around us.” But also, you will have to be patient with me, while I learn to trustagain, while I find comfort in giving pieces of myself away to another that I fought so hard to get back from the last. No matter how much I want to say all of me belongs to you, deep down, there are parts I am still working on, pieces that won't rest easy until the one who broke them pays.”
His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing away tears. “I know what I’m signing up for, Siren. And I’m not running. I want every part you’re willing to give, and I will patiently earn the rest. You’re everything, my everything..” He kisses my forehead, right where the scar splits my eyebrow.
“You need to tell me how you got this.”
“Later,” I whisper.
His mouth moves to mine, hot and possessive. I open slightly, letting his tongue entry. He shifts forward once again, and he enters me in one motion. The feeling of fullness he brings is everything I could want. As if I was covered in cracks, and he closes them.
He beings rocking slowly back and forth, thrusting in and out of me in the most intimate display. “I love you, Surry.” He thrusts again. “I will love you every day.” Again. “Until the day I die.” His speed picks up, not rough, just a little faster.
“I love you Brenden,” I say between silent breathy moans. “There is no one else I would rather be here with. Healing with. Learning with.”
Brenden lowers his forehead to mine, kissing my nose, before he once again picks up the pace. We are short on time, but we don’t want to lose this moment. Our mouths meet as he continues to claim me, just as I claim him with the stratching and little bites I place on his shoulder and neck. I wrap my legs around his waist and lift my hips, allowing him better access.
“Fuck, Surry.” It’s all he has to say. He beings to grunt and I fall over the precipise. It is not a descent off the tallest mountianin the world, but it is warm. It’s comforting. It’s what my future will hold with him at my side.
Once finished, the both of us hop up and head to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick wash before we head downstairs.
“We’ve got a few minutes to get dressed before breakfast. So tell me what Corver said–that’s all the time you get.” He lightly pinches my nipple, while simultaneously kissing my ear, trying to redirect my thoughts, but I won’t let it.
While we wash, he tells me about what Corver has learned, and what he hopes to do. Just more issues and pain. Just more problems that I am at the root of.
We make it to breakfast barely on time. I’m in pajamas, Brenden’s in the same jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. Richie, Hazel, and Alisha look fresh, wearing the clothes we all keep stashed here for emergencies–our “last-minute vacation” drawers. Poor Josh, Juniper, and Brenden aren’t so lucky.
My dad stands when we walk in. “Mornin’, me loves,” he says, voice booming but warm. “Glad t’ have such a full table, even if the reason’s not a happy one. Bridget’s gone out fer clothes fer ye all–took a few o’ the guards with her. Our home’s yer home. Treat it like yer own, aye?”
His hand rests on Ma’s shoulder. She gazes up at him like she’s still half in love and half exasperated–that’s always been them.
“Thanks, Papa,” I say, kissing his cheek before taking my seat beside him, Brenden on my right. Across from us: Richie, Hazel, Alisha. Down the table, Josh and Juniper whisper about something, probably each other. Empty seats wait like ghosts of who’s missing.
Then–a familiar voice.
“SISSY!”
I whip around. Selene stands in the doorway, pale but smiling. For a heartbeat, I forget to breathe. Then I’m running, slippers silent on marble, heart slamming against my ribs.
I stop just short of touching her–scared she’s still too fragile.
“Don’t ye dare do that,” she scolds softly, her Irish lilt matching Ma’s. “Get over here, ya eejit.”
Her embrace is careful but full, and I melt into it. She smells like rosewater and hospital soap. Relief burns through me so fast it almost hurts. Over her shoulder, I see Sam watching, waiting, standing behind Alisha with a hand on her shoulder. He must have come up after I had heard Selene.
“Hi, brother,” I whisper.
“Hi, sissy.” He squeezes my arm. His eyes look older somehow, tired but bright.
Then Ma’s there, pressing into us, her curls brushing my cheek. Papa wraps his arms around the whole pile of us. The weight of their bodies, their warmth, their breath–it breaks something open inside me I didn’t know was still locked.
“I’m delighted we’re all t’gether again, though the reason’s a dark one, God help us, ” Ma says, voice shaking with that melodic Irish tilt.
“Us too, Mama,” Selene, Sam, and I echo, voices overlapping.
When we finally untangle, I help Selene to her seat beside Hazel. Sam takes the empty chair beside Alisha. I wiggle my eyebrows at him–you like her–and he rolls his eyes. No confession today, apparently. I’ve been hoping and trying for years.
I settle back beside Brenden just as his hand finds my lap under the table. Warm, grounding. His touch reminds me of what he told me upstairs–Corver’s update, Natasha, the cold trail. That he loves me. I can almost feel the storm waitingbeyond the walls. As thrilled as I am I’m equally, if not more so, scared.
