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I push my fingers into her, sliding them out, then back in. Her neck arches, she sighs.
I can’t say the things I’m thinking, because she doesn’t want to talk about it. Because she thinks that I don’t know. Because talking about it with me would kill her.
So instead, I show her what I’m thinking.
You’re worthy.
You’re beautiful.
You’re mine.
I plunge inside of her, deep inside, claiming her for my own, for now, for the summer, for as long as she’ll let me.
You’re mine.
I press my forehead to hers as we rock together, as I claim her over and over and over.
You’re mine.
She’s trembling when we’re done, limp in my arms as I hold her.
Mine.
Chapter Nineteen
Brand
Days are seamless here now.
We chat on the porch, we sit on the pier, we lie together in the hammock at night, watching the stars.
Each day, I think Nora will confide in me.
Each day, I think she’ll trust me enough to tell me what William did to her. I know, in my gut, what it was. But I can’t know it for a fact until she tells me.
Each day, she doesn’t.
Each night, I hold her until she falls asleep.
Each night, I try and steel myself against her, to keep from getting sucked in further.
Each day, I try not to trust the feelings that are growing, the attachment, the tenderness, the bond.
Each day, I realize I’m failing.
Nora
I watch Brand sleeping on the couch with a book on his chest. He’d fallen asleep an hour ago and ever since, I’ve watched him.
He’s so peaceful when he sleeps, his face so open.
I could watch him all day and all night.
But my phone dings, distracting me, filling my heart with dread.
I know… I know… the other shoe is getting ready to drop.
These past days have been too good, too comfortable, too perfect.
