Page 87 of Take My Hand

“He wanted me to drop everything and stay home, raise his child, keep up a house, all while he got to do what he loved. It didn’t matter that my career was intertwined with him. He was ready to cut me out, just like that. I have goals and dreams, and a career!” Her shoulders slump forward as she mutters, “I want to be a mother one day, but not with him as a father. An emotionally abusive, arrogant asshole who couldn’t give a damn about anyone but himself.”

Her voice hitches, eyes widening. As if this is the first time she’s put that label on him. As if speaking it out into the world finally caused her mind and heart to come to terms with the fact that yes, she was in an emotionally abusive relationship.

Something clicks behind her eyes. Almost like vindication.

“I was careful. I did the right things. And yet it still happened. I would’ve ended up on my own, with no stable career and a baby depending on me, all while he toured the world and showed up for a birthday every now and then. But yet, I’m the villain.” Her voice cracks on the last word and her shoulders begin to shake.

I close the space between us in an instant, tucking her into my arms as she begins to sob. She melts into me and her knees buckle. “It was the right choice for me, Hayden. And if you can’t see that, then I can’t change your opinion.”

I shush her as I stroke her hair, letting her lean into me until I’m the only thing that’s keeping her from falling.

“You don’t owe me or anyone an explanation.”

I am no one to question her. No one is.

“Listen to me. I’ve never once lied to you and I never will. You are still the woman that I fell in love with. This doesn’t change that.” My voice is steady even as my heart races.

She hiccups and looks up at me, as if wondering if my declaration was real or in her imagination.

“I love you, Carter,” I tell her, staring deep into her eyes and down into that part of her that feels unworthy. I want to tell her over and over, weave it into lyrics, tattoo it on her skin and my own. It burns inside where the ashes of my anger have cooled.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while now. But going these last few days without talking to you, not hearing your music thump through the floor while you work in your studio, eating meals by myself and not getting to watch your reactions to the first bite, I knew I needed to tell you. Because I don’t want to give you the chance to doubt my feelings for you again.”

Her face softens at my words and she gently wraps an arm around my neck and brings my mouth down to hers for a kiss.

It’s a tender kiss, not rushed or frenzied or a buildup to something more. It’s a declaration. A closing of one chapter and the beginning of another.

She pulls back but our foreheads stay connected. “I love you too,” she says against my mouth, the whisper of her words brushing against my skin.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

“I’m not. I promise. I wish I had some better speech to give you or the words right now to explain all the little things about you that nestled their way into my heart but my brain is a little exhausted right now.” She lets out a small laugh with the last bit, and I echo it, seeing the exhaustion lining her face and weighing down her body.

Without another word, I scoop her up and carry her upstairs through my bedroom and to my bathroom. She burrows her head into my neck and wraps her arms around me. I side step the mess on the floor where part of it is ripped up and waiting for the new bathtub to be installed.

I nudge the shower door open with my foot before walking in and setting her down.

I turn on the water and hiss at the cool temperature against my back. But I stand there and take it until it finally runs hot.

“Arms up,” I say and she raises them without complaint. Grabbing the band of her sports bra, I lift it up and over her head. Her leggings and my shorts quickly follow.

Taking a few steps backward, I pull her under the spray. She jolts at the initial contact but soon enough the warmth of the water settles into her muscles that must be aching after holding so much tension in them the past few days.

I lather up my hands with soap, not wanting a cloth or loofah to get in between my hands and her body. Her skin feels like silk under my palms as I wash her. She leans into me, moaning softly when my hands glide over her breasts. I spend more time than needed washing them than necessary.

“Turn around.”

She does and I grab my shampoo, pouring some into her hair and working it in with my hands. It’s probably not what she would typically use and I make a mental note to buy some girl shit for in here.

Her eyes flutter closed as I massage her scalp. She arches her back, the movement pressing her ass against my semi-hard cock.

I was trying to keep myself calm in here, but having her wet, naked body under my hands is too much for me to handle. My grip tightens in her hair as I rinse the conditioner out.

“Almost done.” My voice sounds like it’s been raked over hot coals.

She spins in my hold and brushes the hair out of my eyes. “But I’m not.”

She returns the same favor, washing my hair and lathering soap in her hands for my body. The air steams around us, fogging up the glass of the shower until it truly feels like we’re in our little world. Away from the press, from work, from exes, from the anxieties that plague us.

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