He squeezes his eyes shut, breath ragged. Then his lips slot over mine. This kiss, loaded with equal parts aching sadness and blissful relief, is a balm, soothing and healing aged wounds. One kiss and I unfurl like a flower blooming.
In a smooth movement, he eases me onto my back beneath him. On instinct, I brace for lightning bolts.
“Cade told me… you’re hurting here.” His knuckle skims between my thighs. “But the doctors didn’t find anything.”
I nod. He goes back to nipping and sucking my bottom lip as his thumb wanders… away from where I expect him to go.
“If I’m making it worse, you have to tell me.”
“You’re in the wrong spot?—”
He pushes into the pocket of my groin. I suck in a gasp at the deep ache. He doesn’t let up and soon a new sensation spreads from his touch. Not flames or acid… it’s… like a warm cup of tea.
A miracle.
“How’s that feel?”
My eyes sting. “Like you pressed pause on the burning.”
He hums. “Good. Breathe with your diaphragm. Real deep for me.”
I’m melting into it— this bruising yet calming wave rolling through me. Ice packs or heating pads don’t compare to whatever he’s doing, massaging and mimicking the movement on the other side too.
I blow out a long breath as he instructed. “What kind of voodoo is this?”
His chuckle adds to the syrupy heat. “Not voodoo, baby girl. Just releasing the tension in your pelvic floor.”
My… pelvic floor?
“How do you know how to do that?”
“I overheard you talking to Cade— and before you get after me for eavesdropping, I can’t stop him from using speaker phone— so I did a little digging. Fun fact: we store suppressed anxiety and trauma here. It’s crazy how our bodies adapt to try and protect us. But over time, the prolonged stress and tension can cause issues… like painful sex, abdominal cramping, lower back pain— a whole bunch of shit. Not to mention, there are tons of nerve endings down here, so when the muscles stop stretching and moving correctly, they’re more prone to strain and inflammation, which would explain the burning.”
Everything he’s saying makes sense, and yet I can’t accept that the answer is so simple. Right there. In front of my face. In frontof my doctor’s faces. A tidal wave of anger threatens to drown out any relief he’s giving me.
“Years,” I growl. “Years of my life, I’ve been dealing with this and not one of those expensive doctors could figure it out. Not one!”
He doesn’t stop his ministrations as he kisses my shoulder. “I’m sorry everyone has failed you for so long.”
A strangled sob lodges in my throat. He kisses there too and whispers, “You gotta let it out, sweetheart.”
So I do. It’s a torrential, emotional downpour. Crying, screaming, cursing— a purge of everything I’ve bottled up. And Seba holds me through it, his steady hands drawing out the poison. And even though the result isn’t permanent, there’s a glimmer of light shining through the clouds.
It’s in reach— a pain-free life.
Framing his face, I gaze up at him through blurred vision. My lips skim his forehead. Down to his lips. Then each of his eyelids. A silent blessing.
Something drops on my cheek.
A tear.
He just shakes his head the way he always does and kisses me. Softly. Reverently. But his tears don’t stop. They blend with mine, seeping into each slow meeting of our mouths.
Trembling, he breaks for a breath and whispers, “Thank you,” over and over.
“I should be the one thanking you,” I choke.
“Anyone can take away your pain, but what you’ve given me— your trust— issacred. It’s a gift I don’t deserve, but I’ll take it anyway because,my god, Andrea, I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you sitting in your bedroom window. You’re a force to be reckoned with, but you’re way too fucking hard on yourself. You wear your heart on your sleeve and love with every fiber of your being. And as much as it’s killed me to live on the sidelines of your life, I’m just grateful for the chance to be near you. To witness the woman you’ve become.”
