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“What you went through, most people would never recover. It’s okay that it still affects you.” It’s not even a second before what she says dawns on her and she closes her eyes with an embarrassed wrinkle of her nose. “Damn it. I walked right into that. You tricked me.”
I reach out to thumb her cheek. “No, trick. I really was fucked up in that cell. But I did tell you that to make you see you’re not alone. We’re both still struggling. We’re both keeping it from each other.”
“You’re right. I just… didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to be okay. It’s the perfectionist in me—wanting to be perfect even when I’m falling apart.”
“I’ve told you,” I say, wrapping an arm around her hip to drag her against me. “You never have to pretend to be perfect for me. I want the real you.”
“If you give me the real you,” she replies with a stubborn poutiness about her mouth.
I laugh and kiss her again. “Alright, we’re both hypocrites.”
“I want to know if you’re afraid, Jon. If you’re upset. If you’re struggling. I may not have to be perfect all the time, but you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
It’s astounding how well suited we are. It may be almost twenty years into our story, from the first night we met so long ago, but it’s moments like this when I’m still struck by how special she is. That the connection we’ve found is a one in several billion shot.
Delphine’s the only person on this planet who could ever be with me. My person. My soulmate. My missing piece that makes me whole.
She knows it too—the glint in her warm brown eyes tells me the same thought’s on her mind.
I squeeze her hip as my heart feels light. “What are we going to do with ourselves?”
“We take it one day at a time. We remind ourselves that we have each other and there’s no timeline for healing.”
My brow raises in answer.
“So my therapist says. But it’s true!”
A gruff laugh leaves me as I push her back into the pillows and lean over her to drop several kisses. “I know what else helps heals.”
“Don’t even start! I’mstarving. All that sex makes a woman hungry.”
“That’s true. Food first, fucking later.”
I’m teasing her, but she giggles along. We hit he shower for clean up and then make dinner plans, content to enjoy the rest of the evening together, with no end in sight to this getaway.
24
delphine
eight months later…
“Careful,I don’t want you to injure yourself!” I cry out.
Fabio and Elmer grunt carrying the bed frame through the doorway. The two large, brawny men are serving as part of our moving crew for the day.
I had suggested we hire a professional company, to which Salvatore balked and said that’s what his dozens of men were for. As a result, we have an army of mafia men marching in and out of our new home.
A ten bedroom, fourteen bath mansion on the secluded outskirts of Westoria. Finding the gem and going through the home-buying process was no easy feat, much less renovating it to fit our tastes, even with Salvatore using his mafia connections every step of the way.
Still, eight months isn’t so bad considering the process takes years for some people.
I smile at Fabio and Elmer as both men carefully place our king-sized headboard against the wall where they’ll soon be setting up our bed. They leave the room to dutifully return to one of several moving trucks.
“Iced tea?” Medjine asks, walking into the room a second later.
She’s not alone. Sasha’s at her side, clutching her own glass of iced tea.
I accept the one Medjine’s handing me. “I almost forgot you two were here. Everything’s so hectic and everyone’s everywhere.”
