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I’m captivated by her words and see the fire in her eyes as she talks about her art. I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, knowing she’s found something she’s truly passionate about, while I’m still searching for my own purpose.
She offers to help me clear the dishes, and I gladly accept. We work together in harmony, rinsing the plates and utensils, and I find myself enjoying the mundane task simply because I’m doing it with her.
As we finish, she turns to me with a grateful smile. “Thank you for your help,” she says, her voice warm and genuine.
I smile back at her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “No problem at all,” I say. “It was my pleasure.”
We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, and I realize how much I want to get to know her better. There’s something about her that draws me in, and I can’t ignore the attraction I feel towards her.
Before I know it, I find myself leaning in, my heart pounding in my chest. I can see the surprise in her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans in too, and our lips meet in a gentle, tentative kiss.
It’s like fireworks exploding in my chest, and I can feel the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips. The softness of her lips against mine is intoxicating, and I find myself lost in the moment. Our kiss deepens, and I feel a surge of desire coursing through me. But as the kiss lingers, I can sense a hesitance in her, a conflict within her.
I pull back slowly, my lips still tingling from the electric connection we just shared. I look into her eyes, and I see the turmoil there. I take a deep breath and let out a heartfelt sigh.
“I want to stay,” I say softly, my voice filled with sincerity. “But I understand if you’re not ready.”
She looks at me with a mix of appreciation and apprehension. “I…I’m not sure,” she stammers, her hands fidgeting nervously.
I reach out and place a comforting hand on hers, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Take your time. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
She looks at me, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
It’s easy to see how vulnerable she is and that she’s been hurt before. I don’t want to rush her or pressure her into anything she’s not ready for. I’ll be patient, earn her trust, and show her that I’m different.
Arabella hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath, determination sparking in her eyes. “There was a time when I thought I had found love,” she begins, in a somber voice. “But that relationship turned toxic.”
As she continues, her words paint a picture more vivid than her art. “At first, it was passive-aggressive comments and controlling behavior. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal. But over time, it got worse.”
Her expression darkens as she recounts her story. “He would yell and demean me, blaming me for everything that went wrong in his life. It was like walking on eggshells around him, never knowing what would set him off.”
Her hands tremble slightly. Her eyes lance mine with a direct hit when she adds, “He would always justify his actions by saying he only wanted to protect me, that I couldn’t make it without him. And for a while, I almost believed him.”
Arabella looks down, her voice barely a whisper. “Finally, it escalated to the point where I feared for my safety. I had to end it before it became physically abusive.”
She takes a deep breath, her eyes making their way back to mine. “The emotional damage from that relationship left me cautious. It’s hard to trust again after that kind of relationship.”
The weight of her past bears down on her, bowing her shoulders. My heart aches for what she’s been through. It’s clear that sharing her story with me is both courageous and vulnerable. I want to support her and show her that she doesn’t have to face her fears alone. I also want to hunt that asshole down and beat him into slush. Then take what remains of his neck and squeeze until his last breath releases. Now it’s my turn to look down. I don’t want her to see the beast her words have unleashed, and I’m not sure how long it will be until I can control the beast again. Something I’m not sure is even possible.
When I can restrain the violence, I cup her cheek, my thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I appreciate your honesty. I can be patient. I’m here for you, and I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
Her eyes brim with gratitude and a glimmer of hope. She leans in, and our lips meet again in a slow, tender kiss. The beauty of that simple gesture brings me the closest I’ve been to tears since my Nana died when I was a kid. What the hell does she see in me?
I pull away gently, looking deep into her eyes, feeling vulnerable and raw for the first time in years. “What do you see in me?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly. “Why me? No one has believed in me since I left home at seventeen. As a member of the Roarers, I didn’t just ride the highways. I traveled through the dark alleys and back streets of the criminal world. They should have locked me up more than once. But I always squeaked by. Was it because someone,something, knew I was always destined to end up here in your arms?”
Arabella’s eyes never leave mine. “You want to know what I see in you? I see a man who has faced unimaginable challenges and still managed to find his way. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but who hasn’t? You’re strong, you’re resilient, and you’ve never given up on yourself.”
I look down, feeling the pulse of her words in my chest. “I don’t know if I deserve all that,” I mumble, unsure of how to accept her praise.
She places a gentle hand on my cheek, guiding my gaze back to hers. Tilting my chin up so she can better read my lips. “You do. And you know what else I see in you? I see a man with a good heart, someone who’s fiercely loyal to those he cares about. A man who is patient with a woman when another man might not.” She shakes her head. “You may have traveled through the darkness, but it didn’t consume you.”
Her words wrap around me like a warm embrace. We haven’t made love, but this is the most intimacy I’ve experienced in years. “Thank you,” I respond with the only words I can think of.
She smiles, her eyes shining with understanding. “You’re welcome,” she gives her own simple reply, before leaning in for another tender kiss.
ChapterFive
Arabella
