“I’m broken!” she screams, losing it, tearing her fingers through her hair. “I’m broken, and one day you’re going to realize you wasted all this time on someone who’s fucking broken, and you’ll know you deserve better than me.”
“You’re not broken,” I say adamantly.
“I can’t fly!” she admits—something I’m guilty of wondering about. “I’m terrified to get in a plane again. What kind of pilot can’t fly, Kyle?”
“I don’t know,” I confess quietly. And I don’t. I was so busy worrying about my feelings and why she’d suddenly turned me away that I didn’t bother to realize her life was still falling apart after her rescue. I really am a fucking idiot.
“I don’t either!” she shouts. “I don’t know who I am anymore. All I know is I’m broken.”
“So you’re a little broken,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. It’s true and I’m not going to lie to her. She doesn’t need someone to sugar coat everything for her, she needs someone to be honest with her but then also help her through it.
“A little?” she asks snidely.
“All right,” I concede. “More than a little.”
“Thanks.” She rolls her eyes, and I almost fall down on my knees and thank God for this glimpse of my girl again. Her fire and her sass are showing, and I know without a doubt that she’s still in there somewhere. She’s scared and changed—we all would be after what she went through—but I have no doubt we’ll find our way back together now.
“So you’re a little broken,” I repeat my earlier thought. “But you don’t need a hero. You don’t need me. That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t need anyone to make you less broken or not. You’re going to do it yourself. I’m just asking for the chance to be there through it with you.”
“Why?” she asks me after a moment.
“Because I’m in love with you, and I have been for a while,” I answer her honestly.
I hold my breath while she watches me. Will she turn me away again? I don’t know. I don’t know anything with MacKenzie. She’s constantly surprising me. Life with her will always be interesting; that’s for sure.
“Will you let me be there with you?” I ask, holding out my hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she says softly, taking it in hers.
I pull her up carefully and lead her into the bathroom. I turn on the taps to let the water heat up. I strip off my clothes and fold them neatly on the counter in a precise stack, and then I turn to MacKenzie. She’s leaning up against the vanity, and it looks like the only thing holding her up is the counter that her hips are pressed against. Her arms are crossed protectively over her, and I hate that she’s uncomfortable around me.
I peel her arms away and see what she was hiding. She’s wearing my T-shirt. I don’t fight the cocky smirk that tugs on my lips. “You don’t love me, my ass.”
“Shut up,” she snaps, but her words are cut off when I pull her stolen clothing over her head.
I gently pull her with me into the shower stall and position her under the spray. I grab the shampoo bottle, one I’m now more than a little familiar with. While she was gone, I got in the habit of using her shampoo and soaps. I liked having the smell of her with me, on my skin, all day.
I pour a little in my palms and begin to massage it into her scalp, rinsing the grime away. Her long golden curls had become dark and dull under the dirt she didn’t care to wash away. I rinse her hair and watch it shine again, even darkened by the water. It's still beautiful. I put some of her face wash on the very tips of my fingers and gently scrub her face until it gleams pink. And then I pick up the white bar of soap and carefully scrub every inch of her with methodic precision. I’m all business, even over the fun parts. I’m not here to pop a boner at the first sight of her tits and ass; I’m here to care for my woman when she needs me. Someday, I’ll need her to take care of me too, and we can spend the rest of our days just taking care of each other.
Once she’s clean, I can tell she’s feeling better already. I shut off the water and grab a towel from the rack. I dry her off gently and then quickly wipe the water from my skin. I hang the towel back up and walk us through her bedroom in the nude to the closet. I pull another one of my T-shirts out of my drawer and scrunch it up before dropping it down over her head. She pops her arms through the arm holes immediately.
I quickly step into a pair of workout shorts and then tug her back to the bed, where I take one look at the sheets that she’s been sleeping in for who knows how long. I let go of her hand and make quick work of stripping the bed. I dump the sheets in the hamper, but I’m also considering throwing them away when she’s not looking.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, looking ashamed of herself as she picks at a cuticle. So she fell apart, I’m not going to fault her for that. But I am going to look after her until she’s strong enough to look after herself again. I won’t leave her alone to suffer ever again.
“Hey,” I say, tugging her chin up to look at me. “Don’t be.”
I drop a quick kiss to her lips and then make the bed again. I grab her and pull her down with me to rest in the protective circle of my arms. I cover us with the blankets and wait for her to settle while I absentmindedly stroke her back.
“Why are you taking care of me?”
“Because I love you,” I answer.
“I know that,” she says. “You already said as much, but… why?”
“Because that’s what couples do,” I answer, and when I look at the expression on her face, I realize I need to do a better job of explaining. “One day, I’m going to need you to care for me. Will you when I need you?”
“Of course,” she answers instantly.
