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"You were hurting," I said, and he shook his head.
"Not an excuse to treat you like shit," he said roughly. "Not an excuse to make you feel the way I did. It's my job to protect you and love you, not hurt you." He tucked my hair behind my ear, his dark eyes searching mine. "I'm sorry, and I'll be sorry for the rest of my life for how I spoke to you. It wasn't okay, and it'll be the biggest regret of my life."
"It's okay," I whispered.
"I'm not okay with it." He leaned forward again, kissing my cheek. "I'll make it up to you."
"You already have—"
"I'll make it up to you," he said again, more sternly. "I promise nothing like that will ever happen again."
"I know," I said. "I trust you." He inhaled sharply at the words, and I kissed the center of his chest. "I trust and love you, Elliot."
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he muttered, almost to himself. Stretching my neck, I pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling him relax under me.
"Love you," I whispered. He smiled against my lips before roughly kissing me back. One moment I was above him, and the next, he flipped us and I was pinned to the bed underneath him. He hovered over me, his dark hair falling in his eyes. Reaching up, I pushed it away.
My breath caught at the sight of him, so strong and handsome. And so mine. All mine.
"I love you, angel."
32
elliot
Five Years Later
The bellabove the door chimed as I stepped inside, my arms full of yoga mats. Faintly, I heard Reagan's soft voice filter through the little studio.
I didn't want to risk disrupting the class, so I dropped the mats by the door outside of the room and made my way to the back office. Standing in the doorway, I smiled to myself as I watched Emma furiously scribble in her notebook, her little brother, Tristan, and sister, Allie on the floor playing together.
"Hey, kiddo," I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I passed. "How's your homework going? Need help?"
"It's awful," she grumbled, and I snorted. She was dramatic at the best of times, but add math into the mix and she bordered hysterical. "I'm never gonna use this stuff."
"You might," I said, and she lifted her eyes to me, giving me a look that should turn me to ash. I held my hands up in mock innocence. "Or maybe you won't."
"I won't," she huffed, looking back at the paper. I rested my hand on her shoulder as I glanced at her paper.
"Multiplication, huh?" I asked, and she nodded as she erased her answer. "Hey, wait." I pulled the chair next to her. "You were close."
"But it was wrong," she said, erasing the numbers.
"You were off by a number," I said, and she glared up at me.
"It wasn't right," she said again.
Sometimes, with her perfectionism and competitive streak, she was so much like her mother it hurt my heart. But it also made me happy knowing Meredith had given her something positive. We at least tried to spin those qualities to positive ones.
"Alright, I'll see you all at the same time next week." Reagan's voice carried to the small office as light chatter filled the space. Emma stared at the doorway, but I tapped the paper.
"Concentrate, Em," I said.
"But—"
"Concentrate." She huffed out an irritated breath as she turned her attention back to the paper.
After we moved away five years ago, I convinced Reagan to open her own yoga studio in our new town. She was reluctant at first, and it took her a good year before she agreed. The studio has only been open for two years, but it was the best decision we could've made.
