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I can’t.
I can’t.
Turning panicked eyes on Roman, I reach for him, but he’s already there, his eyes as wide as mine feel. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”
I shake my head.
He wasn’t there, though.
But he is now.
“Breathe, Goldie.” He smooths his hand over my tangled hair, his grip on me tight.
My chest feels too tight, and my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. A cold sweat breaks out along my forehead, but my body flushes hot. Pins and needles shoot through my fingers until they feel like ice.
What’s wrong with me?
“Ro,” I whimper again, gripping his forearm as tightly as I can, trying to ground myself.
“Shh.” His hand moves to the back of my head and he gently guides me to his chest. I listen to the steady beat of his heart as my vision blurs. Then he begins to hum. Softly at first, then gradually, it gets louder.
You Are My Sunshine.
I cling to the familiar, safe sound. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force air into my body. He doesn’t stop humming until my body stops shaking and I pull away with a deep, heaving breath.
I stare into his eyes—his wet, tear-filled eyes. “Please don’t make me go in there.” My voice is hoarse, barely audible.
“I have to.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, and I shudder, pulling away from him. Folding my arms over my chest, I ignore the hurt that flashes across his face, and stare out the front window.
If he wants me to go in there, I won’t make it easy for him.
Sighing, he shoves his hand through his hair, his eyes still on me. “I’m sorry—”
“You said that.”
He deflates, his gaze still burning a hole into the side of my head. But I don’t look at him. He turns off the car before getting out and rounding it. The door opens, and he stares down at me, waiting.
Still, I don’t move. I don’t acknowledge him.
He crouches beside me, resting his hand on the door. “I know you’re going to hate me for this. I deserve it. But after you get checked out, I’ll take you home. After I know you’re physically okay, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll do anything you want. But I have to know you’re okay, Goldie. I have to know you’re safe.”
My gaze slides to him, and he takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking between mine. He drops his head forward, his knuckles white on the door.
He looks so wrecked, so broken, just like me.
“I’ll never forgive myself for what happened today, Eve. But please, fucking please, do this for me.” His voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear him.
I don’t want to do this.
But I’m tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending like I’m fine. Tired of the weight that’s been on my shoulders since the day I was born. Tired of chasing. Tired of running. Tired of being something I’m not, okay when I’m not, whole when I’m not.
Just…tired.
He reaches his hand out, patiently waiting for me to take it, giving me the choice. I stare down at it, not wanting to.
I don’t want to do this.
But then I look at him, at the brave face he has on for me, at the way he’s prepared to do what he has to to take care of me, even if I hate it for him. When was the last time anyone did this? Mama loved me, but after a certain age, she didn’t have to coddle me anymore. Isaac never did.
