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“There’s no shame in crying. After what you went through, you need to shed those tears. Don’t hold them back. And you didn’t wake me up. I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you.” As he spoke, he walked closer, but he didn’t seek to touch her.
“About me?” she asked, her tone tinged with surprise.
Hadn’t anyone ever worried about her before?
“Yes. I’m always going to worry about you,” he confessed. It was a roundabout way to tell her that he cared, but the truth was…he did. And that fact probably shocked him as much as her. How had she managed to slip under his Tin Man veneer so quickly?
Jess didn’t reply. Instead, she walked toward him. He opened his arms and her slight frame leaned into him, as she silently asked for another embrace like the one they’d shared downstairs. He rocked her slightly, letting the slow motion soothe her as she let her sadness free and cried against his chest. He ran his hand up and down her back.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “It’s all going to be okay.” He said those words over and over, but he didn’t seek to pull away, determined to give her all the time she needed.
He didn’t have a clue how long they stood there—minutes or hours could have passed—but finally, she cried herself out.
Steadier, she released him but didn’t move away. She lifted her face, cheeks shimmering with the tears she’d shed. He cupped her cheeks and used his thumbs to brush away the dampness, the two of them looking at each other for a long time. He felt the undeniable need to kiss her, and there was something in her eyes that convinced him she wouldn’t push him away if he did.
“Feel better?” he whispered.
She started to nod, but it morphed into a shrug instead. “Every time I think things can’t get worse…it’s like the universe takes it as a personal challenge.” She tried to back her words up with a ghost of a smile, to sell her attempt at a joke, but failed. She sighed. “I’m just so tired, Rhys. All the time.”
He knew that she wasn’t talking about physical exhaustion. Jess had the weight of the world pushing down on her, and while she’d managed to carry it this far, this whole fucked-up weekend seemed to have delivered the KO punch.
“I know you are.”
He led her to the couch, the two of them sitting down together, and she put her head on his shoulder. Then, before he could overthink it, he pulled her sideways onto his lap, nestling her as he would a sleeping child.
The impulsive action was out of character, the sort of thing Tony would do, not him. Regardless, he needed her close, needed to comfort her, and those feelings blotted out all common sense, all rational thought.
However, it was Jess’s reaction that was more surprising. She went with the motion, completely, sinking onto his lap, as if they’d sat this way together every night for years. She rested her head on his shoulder once more and released a long, slow breath, all the tension flowing out of her with the air and words she clearly needed to speak.
“I know there are people who have it worse, so I hate to sound like I’m complaining.”
She was homeless, penniless, and had just been badly beaten by a junkie this afternoon. She thought there were people who had it worse?
“I don’t think you’re complaining. I think you’re justified to feel the way you do.”
“It’s just… I’m so frustrated I can’t find a way out of this mess. I go to work every single day. I don’t drink or do drugs. Jesus, I don’t evendate. I go to work and take care of Jasper, and I’m doing everything I know how to do to make a decent life for us, but…it’s still not enough. I don’t think it’s ever going to be enough.”
He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her even tighter to him, wanting this lonely, scared woman to know—for once, and even if only for tonight—that she wasn’t alone. “It’ll be enough, Jess. I think your problem is you’re trying to do everything on your own. You need to ask for help.”
She gave him a rueful grin. “My mother told me my pride would be my downfall. Maybe she was right.”
He shook his head. “No. She wasn’t right.” Given what Jess had told them about her mother kicking out her eighteen-year-old, pregnant daughter, Rhys was struggling to understand how such a coldhearted woman could raise someone as wonderful as Jess.
“Do you think…” She paused and lifted her gaze to him, her eyes shimmering with fresh tears. “Do you think Jasper deserves better than me?” she whispered.
Her question broke his heart. She’d devoted her life to her son, loved him with everything she had. “Jesus, Jess,” he murmured, his voice stern when he responded. “You are an amazing mother. That little boy is lucky to have you. Don’t ever ask that question again. Don’t even think it.”
She wiped away a lone tear that had escaped and nodded. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Good.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. It was meant to be a platonic gesture of comfort, but it stirred something foreign, something unexpected inside him. He’d been attracted to women in the past, but this felt like something…more. Much, much more.
“You smell good,” she said, her nose brushing his shoulder.
He chuckled. “Probably just my body wash.”
“This whole apartment smells good. I noticed it right away. It feels like most of the world stinks. My old apartment always stunk of cigarettes even though Danielle and I never smoked. The diner smells like grease. Lots of parts of the city smell like week-old garbage, and the motel…well, that place is just fucking gross. But you…you smell like…”
“An Irish spring?” he joked.
