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The sensation of his thumb swiping away the wetness on my skin makes me face him. His eyes are filled with sorrow.
"I know." His sadness opens up the floodgate, and my tears are flowing. I’m not sure if I’m crying for him or me. How can I mourn something that is no longer there, something I have no recollection of? But Rhys...he remembers it all. I may have lost parts of my memory, but he lost us. What we had from the day I was born.
He bridges the distance between us, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and pulls me into his side. I latch onto his jacket, burying my nose in the crook of his neck.
Home.
We sit like this until the urge to scream overtakes every cell in my body. I’m sick of being in the dark, then finding answers—finding the light—just to be thrown back into the black void. I know life consists of light and dark; one cannot exist without the other. Yet, mine seems to be lacking the gray that should connect the two. I'm tired of being someone's chess piece—a game that has been going on for years and has used me as its pawn.
My breath quickens, and I jump off the bench, taking several steps until I’m in the middle of the clearing. My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into my palms as I give in. I'm sure I resemble a crazed banshee, but I don’t care. Let them hear me.
Arms encircle me from behind, and Rhys draws me against his chest. "It's okay. Let it all out."
And I do.
When my throat feels like sandpaper, I turn in his embrace and hold on for dear life. "Please tell me you forgive me." His clothes muffle my words.
"There is nothing to forgive, Cal. None of this is your fault. I'm sorry I flipped my lid earlier."
At his warm breath against my ear, butterflies erupt in my stomach. It's always him reassuring me. I pull back, and Rhys studies my face. I place my hands on either side of his neck, right underneath his ears, the spot that drives him crazy when I kiss it. He lowers his forehead to mine, and I inhale his exhale, tasting the mint from his gum on my tongue.
"There are no words that can express how sorry I am for what you had to go through because of me, because of what happened and is still happening. You've been by my side, even when I thought you weren't. You watched over me time and time again." A brief chuckle escapes me. "You let George, every grown man's nightmare, drive you to God knows where for a chance to talk to me."
Rhys smirks. "He’s not so scary once you get to know him."
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, but I continue. I’m not done. "I need you to know that no matter what happens, no matter where we are or how long we’re apart, I’m yours. I’ll always find my way back to you. You are my home. I love you."
Rhys's gaze jumps back and forth between my eyes before he lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss starts as a featherlight caress, but it's not enough. The fluttering sensation in my belly spreads to my chest. I want more. Need more. I raise to my toes, and his arms around me tighten. Arching my back to get even closer, my lips part, and I nip on his bottom lip. Rhys groans and immediately follows suit. His tongue invades my mouth with tender strokes, and the initial peck turns into a frenzy of mind-numbing kisses. Heat builds in my core, and I don’t want this to end. By the time we break apart, my body is on fire, and I no longer feel the chill from the cool March temperatures. Rhys watches me closely through hooded lids before he pulls me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the crown of my head.
We remain like this until, suddenly, another hand lands on my shoulder, and I squeal in surprise.
"Miss Lilly." George's soft tone breaks the little composure I had gathered just moments ago by distracting myself with Rhys’s expert tongue.
I let go of Rhys and fling myself at my bodyguard, head of security, friend—whoever this man has become to me. George goes rigid at my assault but then relaxes and hugs me back. I wonder when he was hugged last.
"Did you find anything?" Rhys asks him.
"I have. But it’s not safe to talk here."
George disentangles himself from me and gently pushes me toward Rhys, who interlaces his fingers with mine. I sweep the park. We are the only ones here, but I understand what he is saying. After this morning, we have no clue who is watching. And here we assumed Nate is the one who has eyes on everyone—aside from Tristen, that is.
I guess there is a third party that no one knew about until today.
