Page 85 of Endless Depths

He exhales softly, eyes raking over me, then tucks his fingers inside the waistband of my joggers. “Can I take these off? The bottoms are wet.”

“What are we doing?” I’m too fragile for mixed messages and rejection.

“I think we need to be near each other. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” His answer is too vague to comfort me, but I don’t want to be alone either.

I drop my pants and kick them aside, then climb under the covers, still warm where he slept. I scoot back to make room for him as he strips to his boxer briefs and follows me into bed. We roll onto our sides, facing each other.

“Are you okay?” He brushes my hair back from my temple.

“Mmhm,” I hum.

“You scared me,” he whispers.

A tear slides down his cheek and lands on the pillow, the first tear I’ve seen since I told him Seb died.

He inhales a trembling breath. “When I saw you standing on the bow, I was more afraid than when I realized I was going to die. It took less than a minute to reach you, but the fear that you might jump, and I would lose you, or that you’d be hurt in any way, was more excruciating than when the sorting table slammed into me.” He swallows. “I put you through that pain for days while I was in the hospital.”

His tears flow freely. I hush him and swipe them with my thumbs.

“I knew you were hurting,” he continues. “You lost Seb too, but I blamed you for saving me—not for his death. I blame myself for that. The other day, I should have been strong enough to talk about Seb instead of leaving you like that.

“Seb’s death wasn’t your fault, Morgan. It was never your fault. I was wrong to blame you for saving me. If you had jumped out there tonight, I would have saved you too, and I sure as hellwouldn’t have gone to get a survival suit. I never should have held that against you.”

The weight I’ve carried since last year disappears. “Thank you. I needed to hear you say that.”

“I was so caught up in my pain, I covered my ears, and pushed everyone away. I hid behind noble intentions. I wanted to stop hurting you. I was bad for you and Finn. I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve any of you. And I did believe that. Sometimes I still do. But that wasn’t the only reason.

“I’m terrified to lose you. Any of you. I just couldn’t admit it to myself until the night we said goodbye to Seb, let alone say it out loud. I lost Seb, and it nearly killed me. I lost Seb, and it was my fault. I’ll never forgive myself if someone else dies because of me.” He breaks into a sob.

I inch closer. “It wasn’t your fault, Cole.”

“No. I should have paid more attention. I should have listened to you. If I’d stayed home, Seb would still be here. Finn wouldn’t be alone.”

“Finn isn’t alone. He has us.”

“Still…”

“What happened to you could have happened to any of us, whether you stayed home or not.It could have been me who got hurt. ‘Danger’s always been a part of the deal.’You told me that, remember? The Bering Sea killed Seb. Not you.”

He closes his eyes, lashes wet with tears, then takes a deep breath before opening them again. He disagrees, but that’s okay. We’ll work on it. With any luck, I’ll convince him to go to therapy, or I’ll tie him to the bed and read him a book on grieving.

“You should hate me,” he says.

“I could never hate you.”

“No. I abandoned you when you needed me. You were right. I’m worse than your family.” He sucks in a breath, like he’s drowning in guilt and won’t reach the surface until he confesses everything. “I should have been there.”

“What?”

“I should have been there when you needed me, when you were grieving, when you were parenting Finn. I should have been there.”

“You’re here now.” I lean in, cradle the back of his head, and kiss him softly.

“I understand if you don’t want to try again. If it’s better for you to move on, I’ll respect that. I want you to be happy, but I’m going to keep fighting for you until you tell me to stop. I don’t want to lose you.”

He tries to look away, but I trap his chin between my thumb and index finger. “You haven’t lost me.”