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“How have you been doing?” he asks, and I laugh weakly.
“Not much better than you, but I don’t have the luxury of sitting around and wallowing in alcohol.” I keep my chin high while he looks to the floor. “Chaos seems to think you telling me to leave was your way of doing what was best for me and Thomas. Was he right?”
He nods, but still doesn’t look at me.
“I’ve made some piss poor decisions in my life, yet being with you was never one of them. I once told you I felt nothing when Callum died, but not being with you has hurt so much, I’m barely functioning. I can’t concentrate at work. My eyes physically hurt from crying all the time. Why couldn’t you trust that when I chose you, I meant it?”
“You saw me that day, Evie. You saw me drenched in his blood…”
“He took my son. I didn’t for one second believe you were just going to give him an arse kicking.”
I move closer to him, relieved when he doesn’t step away.
“You said I couldn’t love you for who you really are, but you were wrong again.”
Lifting my top, I peel back the wrap, giving him a clear view of my new ink.
Psycho’s Forever.
“You…” He pauses, stumped as to what to say, and then finally meets my eyes.
“I know who you are, and I love you like I need you to survive.”
His voice breaks as he says, “I don’t ever want to hurt you or Thomas.”
“You’re hurting us by not coming home.”
“I’m no good for you,” he continues to argue.
“You’re everything to me—everything. Don’t make me live without you any longer.”
“I can’t stop being me.”
What he’s really saying is, he won’t stop hurting people, and I hear him loud and clear.
“As long as you don’t hurt me or Thomas, what you have to do is what you have to do.”
He crosses the room and slams his lips onto mine, forcing the last three weeks’ worth of pain and suffering away.
“Come home with me, Psycho.”
“I fucking love you, Evie Hemingway.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Doubt it all you want, as long as you do it from home.”
Wrapping his arms around me, I slide mine around his waist and hold him as tight as he’s holding me.
I need this. Him. Forever.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my hair.
“I’ve missed you too. Thomas has as well.”
He pulls away and collects my hands in his. Lifting them to his mouth, he presses soft kisses to my knuckles.
