“And I told myself you wouldn’t,” I say—no bite this time, just the sound of something inside me breaking.
“Then I guess we were both wrong.”
The silence stretches like the tears in my heart. I’m bleeding out, as I watch it seep into the cracks beneath me.
“Every second without you has been torture, Matilda. And the worst part is, I did it to myself.” I’ve never done this, never bared my heart or soul to anyone. Trying to get the words out is like pushing ten tonnes of solid stone up a hill, but the look on her face has finally broken my towering defences. I need this, I need her, and I’ll cut my chest open and lay my broken heart bare for her to see if that’s what she needs.
“When I saw you lying there, I thought I had already lost you. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I was trapped in the same nightmare I lived when I lost my mother. I watched my father crumble and, for the first time, I truly knew what that pain felt like. You are my world, the light to my darkness. You are my home, Matilda. But I was too broken to believe I deserved you.”
“And now?” Her voice cracks, but I can see her holding back the tears that are so desperate to break free.
“I shut you out because I thought if you saw how dark it gets inside me, you’d run. But losing you has shown me—I’d rather let you see all of me than live half a life without you.” A choked sob leaves her and my feet move towards her before I can think better of it. She is inches from me now, her glassy brown eyes staring back up at me, her cheeks flushed.
“You are the only light that has ever cut through the shadows I live with. And I’m terrified, because I don’t know how to be the man you deserve. But I will spend my life learning, if you let me.” My finger traces the curves of her face, feeling her breath shudder as I tuck a curl behind her ear. I want to kiss her, to wrap her in my arms, but I can’t—not yet.
Her eyes are tracing my face, like she is trying to find the answers she is so desperately searching for.
“Matilda, please—talk to me.” A small sigh leaves her and my chest tightens as all my fears come rushing to the surface. I have really lost her.
“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Henry, because I sure as hell won’t be perfect for you. You just have to be honest. I don’t want the version of you that’s put together—I want the real you, even when it’s messy, even when it hurts.” A choked sound escapes my throat; I can’t hold it in. The tears form—my old enemy I thought I defeated many years ago. “Love isn’t just for the good days. It’s for the days when you can’t breathe, when you’re drowning, when you think the world is ending. That’s when I want to be there most.” Her hand reaches up to cup my face, so gently. “You think you’re too broken for me, but don’t you see? It’s in those broken pieces I found the man I love.”
Her words land on me like rain—clean, unblinking and healing. We stand like that for a long time, teary eyes locked together. I reach for her because not doing so felt worse than any fear. My hands find her face, and when I draw her close theworld narrows to the soft gasps of her breath and the thuds of her pulse against my chest.
I draw my lips down upon hers—almost painfully gentle, the kind of kiss that mends broken souls. She tastes like forgiveness and something braver—the promise of love.
Our lips part in a gasp for only a second, then I’m on her again. I’m like a starving man now. We press together and Matilda kisses me back with the same level of longing I have had for her for too long. Her light seeps into my darkness, making me whole again, and all I want to do is return her kindness, her light, and fix whatever I broke. Each kiss is an apology, each hold a vow. I find her mouth again and again.
“I’m sorry,” I pant in between kisses and touches, “I’m so sorry. I love you.” I continue, not as repetition but as prayer. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
I can feel the tears on my face—I don’t know if they are mine or hers, or both of ours mixing together.
“Every day I will love you. I won’t shut you out again.”
“Stay with me through the dark, baby.” She whispers.
“Always, my sunshine.”
Epilogue
Matilda
1 Year Later
“Baby, where are you?” I say as Henry answers my call.
“I’m five minutes away, sunshine. Is everyone waiting for me?” I can hear his stress at running late for my big day. A smile spreads across my face just at the thought of seeing him so soon. He’s been busy this month with his biggest client yet, and I’ve been completely consumed by my first official project as a architect. Today happened to be my first ever handover day. The project was completed and handed over to the client, and my family decided they wanted to host a BBQ in celebration, of course, James— Henry dad is here with us. Oh—this may be a good time to mention I no longer work for Chase Architects. I actually never went back after the accident.
When Henry and I sorted ourselves out, I decided I needed to find my own way. Working under Henry while being in a relationship with him would have put too much strain on us when we were already so fragile. I needed stability in all areas of my life, so I made the decision to go it on my own and find a small firm that would take me on. I stayed with them for six months until I was accepted at a larger firm as a JuniorArchitect. I would love to say that Henry had no sway in this, but as soon as the firm saw I’d worked four years at Chase Architects—plus with the glowing recommendation Henry gave—they hired me pretty quickly.
Not to mention the untold amount of support Henry has given me over the past year. This month, though, we’ve both been so swamped that we’ve barely seen each other. But tonight that’s going to change, because we now have four beautiful days planned together.
Henry agreed to go back to the cabin with me. It took a lot of convincing, but I want that cabin to be remembered for where we truly began and the love we shared there—not the disaster that happened at the end. It’s also a way for Henry to face his fears about that day, to help process and find forgiveness in himself. I forgave him pretty early on, but I know it still weighs on him. He still has his dark days, but he has kept his promise and never shut me out. He talks things through with me, every single time. It took a long time to get us through those dark days to start off with. He started going to grief counseling. He tried a couple different therapists until he found one he really felt understood him and since then he has been seeing her regularly. He has gotten a lot better at opening up about his feelings but he still can’t drive in storms to this day. He also knows I don’t want to fix him, just to be there to support him and love him and I think that helps. He still tries to get me to run with him on Sundays, but that happened once and will never happen again. And it was a hardnoto ice showers together.
My family were very skeptical at first, and it took a lot to bring them around. To my surprise, Rachel was the first to warm to him. She mentioned to me months later that she went to see him at Chase Architects but never fully told me what was said between them. Whatever it was, though, it formed an understanding between the two of them.
“No baby, everyone has just got here.”
“Do you need me to grab anything?”
