Stomach clenching, I whisper, “Are you mad at me?”
He tuts, turns, and lifts my face. “No. Not at all. I’m mentally preparing for war.” He kisses my lips, my forehead, my nose. “And coming to terms with the possibility I have to keep you against your will.”
“You won’t have to do that. I don’t…” I free a shaking breath. “I don’t want to live like I used to. I like being appreciated. Wanted. Clearly and kindly,wanted.”
“That’s the part that would get your guilt the most. Liking living with me can so easily become the selfish choice, and sweeties like you long for a sense of internal goodness. You’ve been raised to deny and abuse yourself. You’ve been raised to sacrifice. You’ve been taught to act at your own expense. This is going to be hard, and we don’t have much time to mentally fortify because I have a feeling you’d prefer to get this over with more than you’d like me to push it back. Which is an option.” Tone low and soothing, he rests his forehead against mine. “I can tell her she won’t be welcome this weekend and give her another time if you prefer.”
“No. You’re right. I don’t want this looming. If…if this comes down to cutting my family off…then I need to do that and outgrow it.” I squeeze my eyes shut and press hard against Lukas, grounding myself as he presses back—stable, stone. “Do you think…there’s a chance that they surprise me? That theyprove I’m important to them? That they make it clear they want to mend our relationship so they can keep me in their lives?”
Lukas lowers his hands so they brace my shoulders. “I have limited faith in the people who hurt others as deeply as your parents have hurt you, Clara. Given my position, I’d hesitate to trust anything that appears like a change of heart. Your mother has already proven to be opportunistic. I credit her with full knowledge of what she’s done and how she’s treated you. She’ll be smart enough to try and twist a relationship out of this using anything she needs to in order to keep access to what I and my family may be able to offer her. She will abuse your kindness and your hope, as you starve for that connection and peace. So.” He holds me steady, makes me meet his eyes. “Can I ask that you let me make the call? Will you trust me with that judgement?”
Trust a man who says he’s willing and ready to keep me with him against my will?
I jut my lip. “Of course.”
Warmth consumes him, and he leans in for a kiss.
“But,” I say.
He stops.
“You have to promise not to let me go anywhere. You have to be strong enough to actually keep me even if it’s against my will. You know how the love stories I’ve told you about go. I do not want to break and go back with them so I can suffer and realize I had it so much better with you before you appear, knight in shining armor style, with a grand gesture that makes me change my mind all over again. This isSunset,West Virginia. We’re here already. We don’t need to leave so we can come riding back into it.”
“I already said I wouldn’t let you leave me.”
“You also insist that you’re a demanding, controlling, egomaniac.”
His brow arches. “I very much am.”
“Are not.”
“I’m positi—”
“Knees.”
He’s on the ground before his brain has caught up. The bemusement that crashes through his expression leaves him whiplashed, and he looks at the floor between his knees and my toes, then at the foot of distance up to my face. “What…just happened?”
I rustle his hair. “Are not.” Cupping his chin, I stretch his neck to keep his eyes on me. Blush fills his face, and my emotions mellow. “Don’t let me leave you. No matter what sticky mess I become when I see my family again, no matter what reasons, no matter what I say that might convince you I have the right to make my own choices, don’t let me go. Be the bad guy you think you are, and keep me safe.”
“I will. You belong to me.”
“I belong with you.” Yet…I’m still scared what my messy emotions will do to me. I’m scared I won’t even get the closure I need. I’m scared it’ll be pointless, and fruitless, andpainful. My phone buzzes, and my stomach knots, and I know I don’twantto confront the past, not even for a moment, but I also don’t want to live with the feeling that I didn’t do everything I could have to give my family a chance.
I love my family.
Never speaking to people I love again will be almost as hard as speaking to them is.
It’s thealmostthat has me considering this.
It’s thealmostthat has me holding out hope.
“It will be okay,” Lukas says, holding my wrist, moving my palm to his lips. “I will protect you. And if words are too hard, you can give them to me, and I will speak for you. We will confront the injustice together. We will find your closure, oryour path forward. They are no longer allowed to abuse you, my love. No one is.”
What a beautiful idea.
When Lukas rises, tangling our fingers to draw me from the room, I feel stronger.
Like beautiful ideas are possible, and love should always be this kind.
