Page 73 of Blissful Devotion

The others had been ready to make her fall in love with them all over again, but I’d been lost there too. I’d spent so much time trying to guard my heart from her that I didn’t even know when she got in. I didn’t know how to make her fall again, if I ever even managed to in the first place, at least not for me. I never would have guessed it hurt so much to lose something that wasn’t yours to begin with, but I’d felt her absence like a hole in my chest.

Now we sit in the library; she’s curled up on so many throw blankets and pillows it probably rivals her bed for comfort, and I’m forced to face the fact that she still isn’t mine.

Not really.

We’d shared moments together, and while I’d said I was in, I hadn’t really acted any differently. Making hot cocoa, watching Des fuck her through the window, and being nice didn’t change anything, and even now I wasn’t sure how to.

I’d told myself I would, but fear got the best of me, and then she’d been gone and now...

Well, now I’m back to being afraid.

What could I possibly have to offer Kat that she doesn’t already have?

Even more terrifying is the idea that she might want me now but turn me away once she knows. Desmond and my father have both assured me they don’t think she will have an issue with it, but I can’t help worrying.

I can’t remember the last time I wanted someone for myself, not just for the sake of a body or to appease the rest of them.

But I want Kat; I just don’t know how to show her.

“I’m going to go grab a shower and then see if I can get a little work done before dinner. I’ll be in the office if you need me.” Father stands, moving toward the door only to pause with his hand on the knob. He looks back over his shoulder at Kat, his face so peaceful and full of joy, nothing like the man we’d seen when Kat was first missing.

No, he’d pulled himself back for her, and something tells me we won’t ever see that version of him again so long as we have her.

Des is still playing some video game, quietly for once, and I have a mildly interesting book in hand, but somehow I can’t bring myself to give it the attention I’m sure it deserves.

“I’m gonna go make a snack tray. I’m sure she’s gonna be hungry when she gets up.” Desmond pops up, and I startle at his voice and sudden movement.

I’d been so lost in thought I didn’t even realize I was just sitting here staring like a creep.

I turn my attention back to my book and clear my throat.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Desmond doesn’t call me out, but I see the smirk on his face when he heads to the door, and I know he saw.

Great.

I’m torn; the urge to explain myself sits heavy on my tongue, but I’m not sure what I could say, and before I can decide, he’s gone.

It’s probably for the best. I’d more than likely only put my foot further in my mouth.

The room is quiet; the crackle of the fire that Kat lies near is the only sound. Father had been beside her with Des on the couch behind us, but now she’s alone, and as peaceful as she looks, I can’t stop myself from moving to sit beside her.

We’re still wary of any lasting damage from the drugs or her time with Lorenzo, both physical and psychological, and though she swears she’s fine, I don’t believe her.

I think she will be, but she’s not there yet, and I don’t blame her. She’s been through a lot, but I fear she’s more worried about worrying us than her actual well-being.

We slept in Nathan’s room last night. In Father’s arms, she’d been asleep in minutes. Des and I had slept as well, while Vince and Nathan had ‘worked,’ or at least that’s what they told her they were doing. Really, they were probably up watching her, worried much the same way I was most of the night. They’d left early this morning to fly back to Italy and get Addy to bring her home so they could sleep on the plane and so I could sleep last night knowing she was in good hands.

I can’t fault them, though; I’d heard her soft whimpers as she fought demons we couldn’t see. They hadn’t been enough to wake her, but there’s no denying there’s something in her subconscious that is haunting her, and the last thing I want is for her to wake up alone.

She’s just as stubborn as always, though; she’d argued with Des for nearly five minutes before she agreed to sit on the ‘nest’ as she called it. She had been adamant that she was fine on the rug, that it was plenty soft enough, and she might have been right, I realize now as I sit on it myself, but Des wasn’t having it.

He’d dropped to his knees, cradling her stomach in his hands as he all but begged her to let him take care of them.

It wasn’t even a discussion after that, and she’d cried, again.

Father pulled her into his arms with a chuckle; she hated crying, and being pregnant seems to make her cry at the smallest things.