AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I drop my forehead to his and sigh heavily. His thumb on my hand draws lazy circles while the fingers of his other hand massage my scalp. The hurt side of me wants to pull away and drag out the agony. Make him feel an iota of what I felt after he ran off. But the sensible side shakes her head and tells me to hear him out. Let him talk. Let him share the pieces he keeps hidden from everyone else.
Sensibility wins.
Nodding, I pull back. “Okay.” I drop my hand from his hoodie. “I was making tea. Would you like some?”
He presses his lips to my forehead. “Thank you.” Why does this kiss feel more intimate? “I’d love some tea.”
I head for the kitchen while Devlyn takes a seat on the couch. Filling two mugs with hot water from the kettle, I deposit chamomile in both and let them steep as I watch Devlyn.
His head falls back on the sofa. Eyes closed, he looks as exhausted as I feel. The last two weeks have obviously tormented us both, yet neither of us did anything to rectify the situation. Well, not until I sent the most recent text message. That was all it took to truly rattle Devlyn to the bone. To wake him up from whatever dream—or nightmare—he’d abandoned me for.
Whoever hurt him in the past… I have never been a violent person, but I want to strangle them. Then maybe thank them. Devlyn wouldn’t be who he is now without them, but I hate that he was hurt.
Setting the mugs on the table, I take a seat beside him on the couch. He rolls his head my direction and opens his eyes. And for a minute, we sit in suspended animation. I read his every movement, every unspoken word scrawled in the worry lines of his face. See his apology in the redness of his eyes, in the defeat of his posture.
I want to comfort him. Tell him I forgive him. Let him know we will be okay.
But I won’t say a word. Not until he gives me more. Explains what made him panic.
He extends his arm closest to me. Lays it palm up on his thigh. An open invitation for me to take his hand. To twine our fingers. To connect us physically while he exposes himself emotionally.
Without hesitation, I take his hand. His eyes drift shut as a heavy breath stutters from his lungs. A sad smile on his lips.
“Sorry will never be enough,” he says as his eyes open and capture mine. His thumb glides up and down in gentle, measured strokes over my skin. “But it’s a start.” He sits taller. Scoots an inch closer. “And I promise to make it up to you. Every day of forever, if necessary.”
Forever.The word holds a heavier weight than imaginable. And I want to let it pin me down. Blanket me in comfort.
He brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip before setting it back down. His gaze fixes on our joined hands. The fingertips of his free hand lightly dance over the top of my hand. Draw invisible lines permanently etched in my soul.
“When I think back, the reason I’m so closed off seems childish. Immature. The result of a young love lost. Something millions have dealt with, but overcome with little struggle.”
He shakes his head, again and again, as if he can’t believe he let someone from his youth disrupt his life with such severity.
Bringing my free hand to his cheek, I brush my knuckles over the line of his jaw. “Devlyn,” I say in a hushed tone. He leans into my touch, but keeps his head down. “Your feelings are valid. Justifiable.” He tips his head to the side. “Just because you were young, it doesn’t mean what you felt was inconsequential. It was real. It mattered.You matter.”
At this, he lifts his head. Glassy eyes meet mine, unbelieving. Full of questions. I cup his cheek and stroke the stubble with my thumb. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch again, parallel tears painting lines down his cheeks.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers into the darkened space. “Your heart. Your…” His eyes pinch tighter. His head gently rocks in my palm as he swallows. “Your love.”
I sweep my fingers beneath his chin and lift. “Look at me,” I whisper a breath from his lips. His eyes pop open, dart between mine, flash me with worry and fear. My stare doesn’t deviate from his as I lick my lips. “Devlyn, you deserve so much more. And I’ll spend every day of forever proving it to you.” I use his words from earlier to tell him I am in this with him.
To seal my promise, I lean in and press my lips to his. The kiss chaste, but equally potent.
I may not have long-term relationship experience, I may not be the person people go to when they need relationship advice, but I will do whatever it takes to help Devlyn heal. To show him that what we have is not the same as his past. That what he felt then and what he feels now are similar and yet completely different.
Everyone has experienced young love—whether it be a crush, deep infatuation, or heartfelt love. The only difference between the love we feel in our youth versus what inhabits us in adulthood—wisdom. And wisdom only comes with time and experience.
I may not have long-term relationship experience, but I have dated my fair share of men. From sweethearts to assholes, I have dated them all. But none of themfelt right. None of them made me feel alive. None of them made my palms sweat or my knees weak. And none of them made me want more than a simple meal a time or two.
None except for the man next to me.
Devlyn may be young, he may be inexperienced at life and love and hardship, but he has an old soul. He sees the world through a unique filter. And I should be so lucky as to sit at his side and let him see me. Let him love me.
“I’m here. Always,” I say, then kiss his lips again.
EIGHTEEN
DEVLYN
