Page 38 of Before I Lost You

“I want you to love me too,” I tell him instead, and that’s the truth. I want it more than anything. “I want you to love me so much you can’t breathe without me,” I whisper, feeling more vulnerable than I ever have. It feels too close to beggingfor comfort. Maybe like I’ve done this once or twice before now. Almost like I’ve already had him, like I’ve already lost him.

Silence settles between us, and he stares into my eyes. But it’s not awkward, just full.

Kenneth reaches over and links our fingers. “Okay.”

I blink. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all you’ve got?” I ask, perplexed.

A smile tugs at Kenneth’s mouth. “You asked for forever. I feel like I should start with okay.”

I laugh despite myself. Then, before I can stop it, my eyes fill with tears. Fucking fuck. I don’t want to cry right now. Not in front of him.

Ken’s fingers are suddenly in my hair, stroking it softly, tipping my chin up with his other hand. “Hey, hey—”

“Sorry.” I sniffle, wiping my tears.

“Don’t,” he says, letting go of my chin. His hand in my hair feels nice, but it doesn’t take the pain in my chest away.

“I’m trying not to ruin this.” I chuckle, and he gives me a little smile.

Kenneth shakes his head and lowers himself to lie against me, chest to chest, his face in the crook of my neck. He kisses me softly. “You couldn’t.”

For the first time since I met Kenneth, I let myself imagine a future. Our future. A real one. Maybe it’s too soon, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it is. It feels right. Like all the stars are aligning for us.

Kenneth falls asleep with his head on my shoulder, breaths steady and even, and I stay awake a little longer, listening to him breathe. It feels so familiar. Like even his heartbeat is ingrained into my memory. Maybe even from a different life, but with the same heartbeat.

Maybe that’s enough for now.

Chapter 14

THE SAME HEART

We’ve spent almost every waking second of the past two weeks together—well, besides working hours and the times he visits his mom, which are now more often since I talked to him about it. Other than that, though, we’re together. If I’m not spending the night at his place, he’s spending the night at mine. Sleeping tangled together, his body tucked snugly against mine, is our new normal. I’m not sure I’ll ever manage to sleep without him again. It’s becoming a bit problematic, this obsession of mine, if I’m being truthful. But there’s no way I’m going to stop now. I’m in too deep. I wouldn’t survive it if he broke up with me. I just know it. That would be the equivalent of losing a limb, and I’d have phantom pains for the rest of my life.

It doesn’t help that he’s opening up to me more by the day. We’re getting to know each other—reallyknow each other. Just things I’ve noticed about him, not things he’s actually telling me. Like him making his coffee exactly like mine every morning—overly sweet with four sugars and creamer, because I don’t actually enjoy the taste of coffee but need the caffeine desperately. He has a sweet tooth too, and has to have ice cream,cookies, or brownies almost every night of the week. I’ve told him he has a bit of a problem, but even being aware of his risk of diabetes hasn’t stopped me from stocking my pantry and fridge with everything he needs. I’m so weak, I’ve been the one baking for him. Imagine that.

He also sings constantly, whether that’s humming a song under his breath or singing at the top of his lungs when he’s showering alone, and I have to admit he has a really pretty voice. It makes me chuckle every time he does it, not because I’m making fun of him, but because he’s so fucking cute. He shoves me every time I tell him that. Also, he plays the same song on a loop all day when he’s editing pictures on his computer. He says it helps him focus. I should find it annoying too, but I’ve gotten used to it and barely even notice anymore.

It seems I really might be obsessed with the guy.

Kenneth’s shower gel has a tropical scent, with pineapple being the strongest note, and now he keeps one in my shower along with his shampoo and conditioner. My bathroom drawer has been stocked with spare razors, toothbrushes, and his favorite aftershave. He’s been using my shaving cream. It all feels very domestic, but I’m not going to be caught complaining. This is exactly where I want to be.

I’m also right where I want to be at this very moment, sitting in Kenneth’s studio for the third time this week. It’s spacious and fancier than I thought it would be. He really has a good thing going—situated downtown, surrounded by high-end stores and restaurants. Also surrounded by galleries and rich people. It’s strategic for sure.

The only thing that’s different about tonight is that he’s not editing or taking pictures of himself. Instead, he’s taking pictures of me. I should feel shy, I think, but instead, I’m excited when he calls me beautiful or handsome as I follow hisdirections. I would do anything to hear him talk to me in this sweet, whispered voice, apparently.

“Perfect, Connie,” Kenneth says softly again, and I blush at his praise. He smirks when we make eye contact, and my face heats until it feels like I’m having a hot flash. “Look that way.” He directs my face where he needs it, warm fingers so very soft against my jaw. I want to lean into the touch, but it’s gone before I can do it. “Gorgeous.”

I breathe a little faster as the shutter goes off repeatedly, and then he’s standing in front of me once more. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts my head up, making eye contact with me when I lift my gaze to his. His blue eyes are lighter, and there’s a soft smile on his face. My lungs burn from the exertion of catching my breath.

“I have to say, Conrad.” Kenneth’s fingers move, and then he’s brushing my cheekbone with his thumb. “You have to be the most beautiful muse I’ve ever had.”

“Oh.” I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve had others?”

“Don’t be jealous, love.” He winks. “They meant nothing. You’re everything.”