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“Shh.” When I touch her waist, she doesn’t flinch, so I slide my arm the rest of the way around and pull her to my chest.
The rush of warmth that floods the deepest parts of my soul takes my breath away. Instead of resisting, she lays her palms to my chest and sobs into my shirt. Deep, wracking sobs that threaten to undo me. If that happens, the two of us can crumple into a broken heap together.
I slide my fingers into her soft hair. “You’ll get through this, Hollie.” As you have everything else.
What else? I don’t know exactly.
My suspicions are stacking up.
Could be I don’t want to know.
Fifteen?
Heavens, that’s young to become a parent. I wish I hadn’t heard. No wonder I was shocked when she told me she was mother to a teen.
My arms tighten as her sobs roll on. I press my face into her hair. It smells a bit like a diner breakfast, but it’s the sweetest aroma I’ve entertained in a very long time.
Right as I think the sobs are ending, I feel a fresh wave batter her body. Sliding my palm along her arm, I lead her to the cushy two-seater and guide her to sit against me. She burrows into my side, swept there by a tide of emotion.
My heart has a hard time beating.
I stroke Hollie’s hair, loose waves that are as soft as they’ve looked every time they’ve taunted me. In my arms, everything about her feels right.
Ifeel right.
The sobs become hiccups, and wispy breaths warm my throat where I unbuttoned after tugging my necktie off and tossing it onto the passenger seat earlier. The woman I hold, in the midst of a legitimate crisis, is literally exhaling pain, and I’m having the darndest time restraining myself from tasting the salt of the tears on her cheek.
I’m a walking relationship disaster.
One thing only keeps me in check. If I move, the moment will end.
She edges back with a fleeting sweep of her eyes over me. “I’m sorry, I—”
I lay a finger on her lips, still amazed I’m allowed to touch her. I cup her face between both my hands. “One request,” I whisper.
Her puffy eyes squint.
“Don’t apologize.”
She blinks, gazing beyond me when what I want most is to see her.
Not about you, man.
Cool air wedges itself between us as she scoots a few inches, emitting a stuttering sigh. “Where did I go wrong?’
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You did your best. These things happen.”
Her head shakes like a washing machine that’s spun itself off-balance. “I tried so hard. He’s been in church. I had rules. Boundaries.”
“He’s a teenager. That’s all that needs to be said.”
“But they don’t…he can’t…” Again, her hands become her hiding place.
I bridge the gap and squeeze her shoulder. “You and I survived, Hollie. Jacob will, too.” That is, if he survives my wrath the next time we meet.
Her face pops up. “I survived? Is that what this is? You’ve seen my life, haven’t you? Constant living on the cusp of disaster? Waiting for the next thing to break and be pushed over the financial edge?” Her short nails pick at each other. “Alone.”
I rest the backs of my fingers along her cheek. “You’re not alone.”
