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“You have... life.” The last word came out choked, causing Rebel to whine softly, her ears perking up in concern. Alfie squirmed to get closer. She gave them both reassuring pats and settled into Connelly’s waiting arms.
“You have it, too,” he whispered into her hair, holding her closer. “You’re full of life. Always have been. You’ve just lost your way a bit, is all. You’re so much stronger than you think.”
“But what if I’m so broken I can’t ever be fixed?” she whispered against his shoulder. It was her greatest fear, one she’d never before spoken out loud, and she held her breath for several long seconds until he responded.
“No one’s completely broken.” His hand cupped her head, fingers threading through her hair in a comforting rhythm. “Sometimes we just need to find a new way of being. It’s like that big mosaic you used to have on your apartment’s wall. The one you found at that flea market in San Antonio? That was just a bunch of broken pieces of glass glued together, but nobody would have ever looked at it and called it broken. It was beautiful, and, in that new form, the glass pieces were stronger than they used to be.”
His words sunk deep into her heart, spreading like roots through the barren places she’d been too afraid to explore. She nestled herself deeper into his arms, craving the warmth and safety he provided as his fingers continued their calming stroke through her hair.
“You always know what to say.”
“Not always,” Connelly admitted with a sad chuckle against her temple. “After what happened to you, I had no idea what to say. It’s why I wrote the book. I never meant for it to hurt you.”
“No, I should’ve read it instead of just assuming it was a cash grab at my expense. I know you better than that. I’m sorry I held it against you. I was just too hurt and confused and didn’t want to see the truth.”
He gave her a squeeze. “You don’t need to apologize, Vee. I was confused, too. And hurt. And angry—so fucking angry. At those shitheads for hurting you. At myself for leaving you there. At the Air Force for brushing it all under the rug because Blake-fucking-Edwards was a general’s son. You know I punched him after I found out what he did? Broke his jaw. That’s why I had to leave the PJs. He got his dad to say I was reckless and dangerous, and eventually, they made up some bullshit excuse to push me out, too.”
“My dad told me. I’m so sorry. I know it must’ve hurt after all the work you did to get into pararescue.”
“Yeah.” His lips curved into a smirk. “Worth it.”
Silence fell between them, filled with the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional snore from Rebel. She closed her eyes, a strange kind of peace settling over her.
“Did it help?” she asked in a faint whisper.
“What, punching the bastard?”
“Writing the book.” She felt his fingers pause in her hair before resuming their soothing strokes.
“It did,” he admitted after a moment.
Veronica allowed another silence to stretch between them, her thoughts wandering to the past. Before the rape. Before the Air Force. Back when they were kids playing around in his backyard in the summertime, the dry grass crunchy under bare feet and carefree laughter ringing through the air. There had been something wonderfully simple about those days. She wished they could go back.
“You made me brave,” she said. “In the book.”
“You are brave.”
“I don’t feel it.”
“Because bravery isn’t about not being scared. It’s about being scared and doing it anyway. Like you did today.” Connelly’s lips brushed her temple. “So, are you going to tell me why you went to my place today?”
She hesitated. “Because you weren’t here.”
“You told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m here now.”
“I know. I’m glad for it.” She breathed in, taking his scent deep into her head and lungs. “Can we just... stay like this for a while?”
“We can stay like this forever if that’s what you want.”
She didn’t know how long they lay there together, wrapped in the cocoon of the bed and each other’s arms. But eventually, the tension drained from her body.
Forever, she thought as she drifted to sleep. She liked the sound of it.
chapter twenty
