Page 186 of New Growth
“Don’t be difficult,” he scolded. “It’ll take two seconds, and then I’m all yours.”
With a dramatic pout, I finally stood up just long enough for him to slide the dress off my shoulders. The second it hit the floor, I crawled right back into his arms, not even bothering to cover my bare chest.
“I need to get undressed too, Ellie,” he said, brushing hair from my face.
“Don’t care,” I muttered into his collarbone.
“Stop it,” he said softly, but there was no real protest in his tone. “I’m serious.”
I cried harder. “You said two seconds and you’re all mine!”
He let out a breath of laughter. “Alright, alright! Jesus.”
Still fully dressed, he climbed into bed with me wrapped around him like a second skin. He laid on his back, my body curled on top of his, tears soaking into his expensive shirt.
He didn’t complain. He didn’t shift. He didn’t say a word. He just held me.
And I sobbed. I sobbed until my ribs ached and my eyes burned and my throat felt raw. It felt like hours before the storm inside me quieted.
But El never moved. Not once.
Finally, I stilled.
“Feeling better?” El asked gently.
“No.”
He kissed my forehead, brushing his knuckles along my cheek. “That’s okay. I can be strong enough for both of us today.”
I sighed dramatically. “Thank you.”
“Can I take off my clothes now? It’s hot in here.”
“Snooty.” I teased, earning me a little flick on the forehead.
I sat back to let him, wiping under my eyes as he started to unbutton his shirt. Halfway through, he paused, his breath hitching as he grabbed the frame to catch himself.
My heart dropped. “Are you hurt?”
He scoffed, waving me off. “That motherfucker could never, and I mean never, hurt me.”
I rolled my eyes at the cockiness, but worry still pooled in my stomach. “Then what’s wrong?”
“High blood sugar,” he muttered, his voice lower now. My eyes widened.
I’d silenced my phone for the wedding so I hadn’t seen the alert. “Shit. What should I do?”
“Can you grab my bag?”
“Yeah—yes!” I rushed across the room, yanked the bag out of the corner, and ran it over to him.
“Thanks, Peanut.”
“What else do you need? Tell me.”
He looked at me, patient and calm. “For you to breathe. I’m okay. I’m not gonna die.”
Still, I watched with bated breath as he removed his pod and placed it on the nightstand. His hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the alcohol wipes in his kit.
