Page 52 of Redeeming Slater
I nod. “I told Emily it wasn’t broken.” I sound extra throaty since my nostrils are blocked from swelling.
“I thought you would have learned by now not to get in the way of fans and their idols.” Although his voice is still laced with anger, it isn’t as strong as earlier.
When I giggle, the cheeky glimmer that usually fires in his eyes returns. After gathering the bloodied tissues to dump them into the trash, he helps me down from the countertop. Warmth blooms across my chest when he cocoons me with his thick, tattooed arms. I feel so loved and protected, my earlier confession to Emily isn’t the only one I’m professing today.
“I love you, Slater.”
I never stopped loving him, but this is the first time I’ve said it since we’ve been back together. He stiffens before he inches back so he can lower his eyes to mine. I’m panicked… until I see the mammoth grin he’s wearing.
“I love you too,” he replies.
I balk, shocked. He never said it back. Not once. Not even when I begged him to the night at the cabin.
I’m bitch-slapped for the second time when the reason for his backflip smacks into me. I’ve often wondered if he thought I left him because of the fight we had over Jenni. That isn’t why I left him—itisn’t even close.
“I didn’t leave you because of Jenni.”
When he attempts to render me speechless with his sinful lips, I step back. What I need to say should have been said years ago, so I can’t hold it back for a second longer. I don’t want to hurt him, but it’s time for him to learn the truth. I want him to know. Ineedhim to know.
“I didn’t leave you because of Jenni,” I say again, my voice quivering when I see the panic in his eyes. “I left because of Serena.”
His brows pull together as confusion clusters in his eyes. . .
My heart beats at an unnatural rhythm when I assess the photo Slater is holding in front of me. It’s faded and looks dated, but the girl smiling in the picture looks so similar to Jenni, it’s spookily eerie.
I remove the photo from his tight grip so I can scrutinize it more diligently. The girl appears to be in her early teens. Her light blue eyes shine just as brightly as her smile, and her lips and nose are identical to Jenni’s in every way, but instead of having Jenni’s strawberry blonde hair, she has a satin scarf wrapped around her head.
“That’s my sister Serena.” Slater’s tone is off. He sounds both upset and proud. I discover why when he adds on, “She died nearly eleven years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” My eyes fill with tears as guilt slams into me. “I should have never accused you. I’m truly sorry for the way I reacted.”
I’ve been apprehensive about Slater’s relationship with Jenni the past few months. The messages they shared don’t seem more than two friends talking, but they’re constant, usually two to three times a day. Then when I overheard him say he loves her and that he'd look after her, I overreacted. I’m already afraid of losing him, and his declaration created more doubt for my stupid theory. I’ve told him for months that I love him, but he’s never said it back. Just from looking at his photo I have a better understanding of his relationship with Jenni.
“Don’t apologize; you didn’t know. I should have told you about her months ago.” He presses his lips to my temple, relief that I believe him all over his face.
“What happened to her?” I sit on the end of the bed, unable to tear my eyes away from Serena’s photo. She’s incredibly beautiful, but so young, and I hate that her life was cut so short.
After sitting next to me, Slater curls his arm around my waist before glancing down at her photo. “She had ALL, Acute Lymphoblastic—”
“Leukemia,” we say at the same time.
As my lungs fight for air, I struggle to keep my emotions under control. It’s a woeful waste of time. Tears falls down my face so hard and fast, my hands can’t keep up with them.
“She died six days after her thirteenth birthday. That photo was taken on her birthday,” Slater informs me. “I know Jenni isn’t Serena, but I can’t help but treat her like she is. She looks so much like her, I struggle remembering she’s not.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say again, except this time I’m not just apologizing for his loss, I’m apologizing for my appalling behavior. “Please forgive me; I’m truly sorry.”
My heart aches so much, it feels like someone is squeezing it tightly. As my lungs continue to fight for air, my breathing becomes shallow and panicked. When Slater hears my wheezy breaths, he removes Serena’s photo from my grasp and places it on the bedspread. He then tugs me onto his lap before encouraging me to take in some deep breaths.
“You’re alright. Just keep breathing, baby.”
He rubs one hand down my back, while the other wipes away my tears. I try to form words, to say something that would express to him how sorry I am for everything I’ve done, but I can’t form any words. The only sounds I can make are my gasps as I fight to fill my lungs with oxygen. I know he loves me, but it hurt hearing him say it to Jenni. Even though he shows me every day that he cares for me, I selfishly wanted to hear it as well. Now I just feel terrible.
Since the only word I can form is “sorry,” I say it to him over and over again until exhaustion overtakes me, and I fall asleep in Slater’s arms.
A few hours later, I wake up startled. Slater’s back is braced against the headboard, and I’m still cradled in his arms. The steady rhythm of his breathing indicates he’s asleep. It’s restless but still undeniable. I sit quietly, staring at his face for nearly an hour before I finally work up the courage to slip out of his embrace.
He murmurs something in his sleep when I press a kiss on his plump, warm lips. “Goodbye, Slater.”
