CHAPTER275
I turn in his arms and throw myself around him taking comfort from the person I need most in the world. I still ache, I’m still grieving for what he’s done but I need to be here with him if I’m to heal. The wracking pain from being away from him is more unbearable than facing the pain of what he’s done to us. It’s crazy and messed-up; maybe it makes me weak but it’s the only way I can function.
“I don’t want to leave,” I whimper, with my head buried in his neck.
“No one is making you go, Emma, in fact, they’re going to have to fight me to the death to try to get you out of my arms. I won’t let you go.” The hoarseness in his voice betrays his emotion, close to breaking down, yet with a hint of stubborn Carrero.
“I want to come home.” I sniff, quietly, my heart wrenching through my chest, painfully.
“I want you home. I need you home.” He presses his mouth to my forehead and inhales me heavily.
I sound like a broken child, wrapped in my security blanket, longing for him to take all my decisions away and take care of me. I can be angry and sort out the mess of what we have left tomorrow, then, when I’m more able to, we can face this, together; whatever ‘this’ is, or is going to be.
“I still don’t know if I can …” I hesitate, screwing my eyes shut against his chest, breathing in his scent.
“I told you, I’ll do whatever you need, baby. As much space as you need … As much time as you need. Come home, I’ll sleep somewhere else in here if that’s what you need. I’m begging you.” His voice is rough and low, his arms holding me tight, and I know he’ll never let anyone take me.
My Jake. My security. My tormentor.
“Can we go to bed?” I whisper. I’m still so exhausted,
I want to stop thinking, just for one moment and forget
any of this, forget everything but what he feels like. I’m
not ready to be free of his arms around me giving me
much-needed serenity. I sniff back the last of my tears and lift my chin to him.
“Together? Same bed?” He’s wary and being gentle. He doesn’t want to presume anything, so I nod and bring my eyes to his in the dim light.
“Don’t do anything more than hold me … I can’t … I just can’t do anything more than that, I don’t even know if we can even do this.”
Even though I know I need this.
I close my eyes and rest against him, trying to calm all the inner protests and voices telling me how pathetic and weak I am.
“We’ll take it every hour at a time, adjust to what you need. Just being with you is enough, neonata, it’s always enough.” He slides up and scoops me into his arms like a child, letting the throw slide from us to the floor almost gracefully.
He carries me, as though I’m fragile and ready to break, to the bedroom and lies me down gently on the bed before moving back to give me space. Then he turns his back, so I can have privacy to change.
I pull off my clothes, without hesitation, until only my underwear and the silk camisole remain then I slide under the sheets. Being back in this room and in this bed with him, makes my heart lift a little, that empty hopelessness moving away just enough to let me breathe. When he hears me sliding into the sheets, he pulls off his clothes too, keeping only his boxers on and he slips in beside me. He waits hesitantly to see if I want his touch, until I tug his hand toward me and he relaxes taking me back into his arms, holding me tight then begins to stroke my hair softly.
“I love you so much.” His soft low huskiness makes me close my eyes and I trace my hands along his powerful arms around me. My body is yearning for more than his embrace but is quietened by my emotions building inside. I can’t bear to do more than this until I can push her out of my head if I ever can. What he did with her, the confusion about what I want and all the emotions swirling up inside of me waiting for release.
There’s a storm brewing inside of me and she’s not ready to give up the fight just yet but she needs this for herself. She needs a break from the pain and he’s the only one who’s capable of giving it to her. A lull in the storm to get my head straight with some much-needed rest and solitude from my own brain.
I snuggle down under the duvet and wrap my legs through his, without even thinking about what I’m doing, in the way we have done a million times before. His deep steady breathing calms me completely, the thoughts, aches, and pains, drift into numbness. I’m shocked at just how quickly I start dosing off again, days of emotional insomnia finally catching up with me.
Weak, pathetic girl. Mommy’s little mirror image.
Shhhh, I’m nothing like her."
