As my hold loosened, she whimpered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded before turning her face away.
“Hey.” I brushed her hair back from her face, trying to draw her back to me. “Addie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—You’re alright now. I can go. I can get Adam, if you need…”
I expected her to send me away. Even if I didn’t understand how, I’d hurt her. Enough to push her farther from us. Enough to bring her closer to him.
It was my fault.
I’d sworn to never be that voice in her head. I’d done the one thing I’d vowed to never do.
Now, I just wanted to make it right.
But after everything that happened, I was the last person she needed. Her legs trembled beneath mine. Her hands, her chin, her breath—her whole body shook as she reached up and clutched my shirt.
I braced for her to push me away.
I didn’t expect her to pull me closer.
As she wrapped her arms around me, I froze. She buried her face in my shoulder, holding me tightly as sobs wracked her body.
I shook off my momentary shock and hugged her back.
With one hand bracing myself on the bed above her, I wrapped the other around her back, pulling her into my chest. I drove my fingers into her hair, weaving through the soft strands to cup the nape, and as I cradled her head, I hugged her tighter against me.
Unable to bear an inch of space between us after four months without her where she belonged.
“I’ve got you, Addie. I’m here.”
She sobbed harder.
But she didn’t let me go.
“Please, don’t leave me.” Her voice broke, muffling in my shirt as her tears soaked through it. “Please, stay with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I vowed, whispering reassurances. Promising that she was safe, that I was there, and that she wasn’t alone. And repeating them over and over as I waited for her to believe me.
Her sobs quieted, but her tremors didn't stop. Scared I was making it worse by remaining on top of her, I shifted our bodies, just enough to rest on my side.
Despite holding onto her the whole time, she gripped my back like I might vanish. She curled into my chest and threaded her leg between mine.
I swept my hand over her hair, her cheeks, and her back until she finally settled.
As she calmed, the frantic thrum of her pulse against my thumb steadied into a gentle beat. Her muscles relaxed, and her limbs grew heavy.
Slowly, her eyelids drifted shut.
And I released a breath, tightening my arms around her and breathing in the scent of her hair, as I assured myself she was safe.
I held her through the night, stroking my hands up and down her spine each time she got lost in a bad dream. After chasing each one away, she slept soundly in my arms.
It took me a long time to relax, but just like I had after that night on her couch—when my body had been the one bruised and my heart the one that was broken—I reminded myself everything would be okay.
Addie was here. She was safe.
And I’d never let anyone hurt her again.
That thought, no matter how naïve it might’ve been, brought me peace, and as I stared down at her sleeping form, my gaze snagged on her fist clenched tightly between our chests.
Clutching the tiny pendant I’d given her.
