Page 122 of Trove’s Purpose

He didn’t let her pull him back this time but instead dragged her with him to the door. But right as they reached it, she ran around and spread out her arms, blocking his path. Still confused.

“You’re not mad?” She asked.

“I am furious!” He declared, fingers curled like he still had claws. He snarled and tightened them into proper fists. “And I will see him dead for doing this to you!”

“Doing what?” She repeated, this time with an incredulous laugh. She reached for him, putting her hands to his chest, stopping him from moving forward. “For giving me a chance to get something I never would have otherwise? For giving me my father back? For repairing my family? For giving me the chance to meet you?”

He focused back on her face, his face still tight with anger. Even when she chuckled and pushed his hair out of his face. She looked so happy. So relieved. And he realized only then that she thought he had been mad at her.

“I owe Hyde everything,” she insisted. “You heard what he said. You and I never would have met under normal circumstances. I would never have signed up for True Match. I would never have left that town, because it was the closest one to dad’s prison and I could visit him more often. And I likely never would have been able to see my dad again if I matched with someone away from him. I’m lucky, Trove. So lucky.”

She was breaking down again.

But this time, there was nothing to stop him from gathering her up in his arms. He squeezed her to his chest as she cried. In anger. In grief. In relief.

She had been carrying the weight of her father’s imprisonment for too long. Her uncle’s disgusting deeds weren’t the only things she had to come to terms with after his death. And what he did to her, and tried to do to her, hadn’t hurt as much as knowing her father paid the price for helping her.

“I do not know your father,” Trove said, speaking softly against her head as she buried her face into his neck, “but I know his thoughts. Believe me, my mate, he is proud of what he has done. He serves his sentence with honor and no regret or shame. He does not care what his mother says of him. He does not care what the world says of him. You and your mother are the only two that matter. Your safety remains his only concern. I know his thoughts, and he does not want you to carry this weight.”

“I know,” she mumbled, but her voice was broken. “I know that. But I don’t feel that. And I won’t feel okay until I can hug him again. For as long as I want. With no stupid officer telling me there’s a time limit. Or that I can’t hold his hands. Or give him good food. Or talk to him for hours.”

She was only crying harder, and he could only imagine how much this must hurt her. He had no reference for what she was feeling. But if she was away from him, if he was limited in how often he could see or hold or please her…

“I owe Hyde everything,” she said weakly. “I’m so grateful, and I can never repay him. For giving me my father. For giving me you.”

He shook at the power of her words. That he would mean that much to her.

And he was still angry at Hyde for using her, but he suddenly understood her gratitude, because he was in the same position.

If it weren’t for Hyde, he would never be able to hold her like this either.

Chapter 40

Chee

Chee really thought that there couldn’t be any more tears to shed. And sure, this breakdown didn’t last as long as her first one, but she was amazed she had anything left in her to release.

Two breakdowns were, however, very draining. She started hanging off Trove and, before she could tell herself to stop, he was lifting her in his arms and taking her back to her bed. He brought them into it and she curled into him.

She took such comfort from his warmth. In his scent. She dozed into a sleep that was shallow but calm and peaceful. She was vaguely aware of time passing. Of his gentle touch on her head, stroking her hair, down her back.

As exhausting as the breakdowns had been, they felt necessary.

Just as laying here, letting Trove hold her, relaxing into him, felt necessary.

Life on Earth had been heavy. Not because her life was hard. No. She had everything she needed. Her job as an event coordinator paid her well. She had enough patience to deal with all the demanding clients, and it didn’t tax her emotionally. She had a few friends from work to keep from being lonely, and she met up with her mom every Wednesday for lunch.

And every weekend, they went to the prison to visit her father.

They could only go once a week. They weren’t even allowed to go two days in a row. Their meeting was timed. Their hugs were limited. Their conversations were watched. And Chee had to voluntarily give up some of the meeting so her parents could have some alone time. At least, as much as the prison could allow.

It was exhausting. Not because it was a lot of work. Not because it was a strain on her schedule. It was just a weight on her heart that carrying around hurt.

Living through the teen years was already hard enough. But she had to add the trauma of being molested by her uncle. Then the trauma of watching her father stab him to death. Which, while she did not feel any shame for, was still something she had to come to terms with.

Then, to top it off, she had to wrestle with all of the weight of her father’s trial. It had taken years to come to the end. So many interviews. So many questions. Sleepless nights. Tears. Screams of frustration.

And the worst, broken hopes.