Page 62 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

No one ever had.

Buthedid.

Everyone else talked. Everyone needed something from me. I was always there for them, but no one had ever stood there for me like this. Maybe this was what I’d needed all along. Someone to hold me without saying a word while I came apart again and again until I could finally breathe.

With every sob, his muscles tightened. His heartbeat pounded against my cheek. His shirt was already soaked with seawater, and now my tears disappeared into it too.

He finally released my wrists.

This time, instead of shoving him away or trying to hit him, I wrapped my arms around him.

His hand slid across my back, holding me even closer. I hadn’t thought it was possible, but somehow he pulled me nearer still.

Never in a million years did I think Oliver Sinclair would be the person I’d let myself fall apart with.

I’d spent so long trying to stay strong in front of him, terrified he’d use my weakness against me. But now I didn’t need to pretend.

It was justusagainst the deep blue sea.

“I’ll stay,” he finally whispered. “I’m here now,Blue.”

The words settled over me like a warm tide. It was as if he knew exactly what I needed to hear, like he’d reached into my mind and found the one thing that could quiet the storm.

“Blue?”

I lifted my face just enough to meet his eyes.

His thumb brushed across my cheek, wiping away my tears.

“Your eyes,” he said with a chuckle before his expression turned serious again. “I’ve sailed through oceans my whole life… never seen anything that could pull me under the way they do.”

My heart pounded.

“I hate the color,” I whispered.

“Good.” His jaw tightened. “I do too.”

I tried to pull away, tears still spilling down my cheeks, but every inch I put between us, he closed again, drawing me back against him.

“It’s cold,” he murmured. “This way we can keep each other warm until the storm passes.”

I stopped fighting him.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe, for now, I could hate him a little less.

I could always hate him more tomorrow.

I closed my eyes. But the moment I did, I saw Isabella. I opened them again and buried my face against his chest, crying into his soaked shirt.

The Oliver I knew would’ve pushed me away, told me to shut the fuck up and suck it up. But this version of him let me fall apart without a single complaint.

I wasn’t even sure how I felt about that.

Rain still hammered down around us, and the raft drifted farther from the yacht, now half swallowed by the sea. Keeping one arm around me, he reached for a small oar and pushed us through the water, searching the wreckage for anything that might help us survive.

I had never felt more useless.