“What?”
“You calling me by my last name whenever I’m being a little shit. I missed theSapphirething too. Why do you call me that?”
My hand cups his face, guiding him to look at me. “Because of your eyes. Rare, sparkling, sapphires. They’re unreal.”
That earns me a kiss in my hair, where he always takes a moment to breathe me in.
“You scared me. I wanted to give you space, but I got worried when you didn’t show up for my hospital appointment. You wouldn’t have missed that unless something was really wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing the heel of my palm over my face. “I’ve barely been awake these past few days. They all blurred together.”
Tom’s shoulders drop a little. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m just relieved you’re okay now.”
“And you?” I ask. “What did cardiology say?”
He taps two fingers at his chest. “Still no signs of damage. Healthy pulse.”
“I knew that. You have a lion’s heart.”
Stubborn. Wild. Unbreakable.
His eyes spark for a second, then go back to worry.
He’s been looking at me like that ever since Tiffy and I left Erin’s house, where he’d waited in the car so Erin wouldn’t freak out about him being there.
Maybe he’d seen the whole messy picture in that moment.
Me as an addict.
Me battling demons just like he is. And above all, the trouble waiting when two people in recovery start catching feelings. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, it’s the whole ocean around us.
I’ve denied a lot of things over the last couple of weeks and it’s catching up with me. I think it’s time to tell him how I ended up here.
“What did Tiffy tell you?”
“She said you were staying with Erin to avoid a relapse. That you’d stayed at Arcadia before.”
“Yeah, something like that.” I take another sip of tea to cover up how uncomfortable I feel.
“Something like that?”
“Completely like that.”
“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I’m here to listen.”
God, I hate this part. This is the moment I either let him in or keep him out.
The sunset catches in his eyes, and that’s enough.
“I got hooked after Afghanistan,” I start. “The explosion happened when I was on my way to a new medical post.”
I pause because I’m not sure how to continue. Tom’s hand moves over my shoulder, his lips kissing my temple. He holds me as I press myself deeper into his chest.
“They flew me to a military hospital in Germany. Some… didn’t make it.”
I close my eyes, holding my breath to keep myself from breaking. I can’t relive that moment the way I did last Monday.
It’s best to focus on the aftermath.
