Page 50 of A Brilliant Spring

Elissa

The last fifteen minutes have left me vulnerable, and I feel surprisingly okay about it.

I know Brandt loves me, and he won’t hurt me again. Just like I plan not to hurt him again.

We’re going to be okay.

I stand up, my skirt falling from my waist as Brandt comes back from the en suite washroom with a warm cloth in his hands. He cleans me up, and nothing’s ever felt more intimate than this. When he does the aftercare of us having sex…I’ve never had that before. Scratch that, I’ve never allowed for it to happen before, and I’m glad it’s with him. He’s so gentle and caring. I see the love and adoration that shine in his eyes. The pride he takes in caring for me makes my heart melt. I never thought I’d be here, in this place, with someone else. Never did I think I could give a piece of my heart away in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I didn’t grow up seeing the care and devotion that this man shows me, and I ran away from it before because it scared me. Fuck, it still scares me. But I’m allowing myself to accept it; to experience it. My fears are not worth losing someone like Brandt again. I don’t think I could handle losing him again. I’m a master at pushing my feelings aside, shoving them deep down to where they can’t be found; letting them go unacknowledged. Even this time, when he walked away, I didn’t deal. Not properly. But I didn’t allow myself to be open to the possibility of what he meant to me. None of these are really my own thoughts, just things that have been pointed out to me in therapy, and now I can see how it’s all connected.

When he’s finished cleaning me, a crimson wave of embarrassment passes over my skin. I’ve never felt more exposed than I do in this moment. My feelings are out there, he knows. And we just made love. A sense of nerves and excitement washes over me, dousing all my fears, pushing them away.

He loves me.

And I love him.

There’s something about realizing those words and actually processing them. He’s chosen me to love. I don’t think someone has ever chosen me before. Not the way I should have been. Someone actually wants me. For me. With my baggage, insecurities, all of it.

I look up and find Brandt’s eyes trained on me. A flicker of love flashes through them as his pupils dilate and his breath catches. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but all I can think about is how he’s mine, and I’m not letting him go this time.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat and finger-combing my hair.

“So,” he repeats. His deep voice is gentle and fragile. Like he’s afraid I’m going to push him away. Not this time.

“No more running? Either of us?” I ask. My voice is barely a whisper as a sudden twinge of nerves tightens my throat and my heart races. His lips curve, always smirking higher on the right side, and it’s a quirk about him that I adore. I love his lopsided smile. He steps closer to me and pulls me into an embrace. He grabs hold of my hand, brings it to his face, and presses featherlight kisses against my palm and up to my wrist. A shiver of pleasure passes over my body as my face heats. Something as small as a kiss on my wrist and he has me losing my inhibitions. My clit throbs with need again.

“No more running,” he confirms. His fiery gaze ignites something inside of me, and my heart is leaping out of my chest. “This is it. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine. And I’m yours. No more of this pushing each other away bullshit. I love you, Elissa. I’ve always loved you.”

I smirk, and a nervous giggle breaks out of me. His face twists with confusion, his brows furrowing and his mouth melting into a thin line.

“I know, Brandt. I know you’ve always loved me. Rhys told me everything.” He freezes. His whole body goes rigid as he stands in front of me, his arms tightening around my waist.

“He what?” My heart sinks as his face drains to white. His eyes are full of worry, but mine shine with enough love for the both of us.

“I’m here. I’m not running. I found you, you know. In my yearbook. I remember the first day of ninth grade. I remember you.” His lips part, clearly unsure of what to say. I press my fingers over his mouth, stopping him from saying anything. “I’m glad you loved me for that long. I’m so happy you still love me. No one ever has before. So, thank you.”

His eyes shine with unshed tears. I rise to my toes, my heels slipping out of my pumps, and I press a chaste kiss to his mouth. As I break the kiss, his mouth chases mine and a hand tangles into my hair, grasping my neck and pulling me closer to him. His mouth eclipses mine, crashing down, and I part my mouth, ready to accept him. Accept him, his love, and everything he has to offer. And I’m finally ready to give it back. Finally ready to allow myself to be loved, and love in return.

“Elissa, I —” He pulls away, slightly leaning back to stare at me.

“It’s okay, Brandt. I’m not running. Not this time.” Something inside him breaks, and I see whatever it is crumbling inside him. My hand cups his face and he leans into it, his eyes closing. He turns his mouth into my palm and places a kiss there.

“I love you, Elissa. You’re it for me. And there’s no going back. You can’t run anymore, and if you do, I’m running right behind you. I can keep up with you, and I will not let you get away again. There’s only us. It’s only ever been us. You’re all I need, you’re all I’ve ever needed. And I can promise you this: One day, I’m going to marry you,” he says. My heart flutters in my chest and my breathing quickens. My pulse is thrumming underneath my skin and I wonder if he can feel it, if he can hear it. “I’m never letting you go now that I have you. You’ll be mine in every way. But I’m not going to rush you because this isn’t some deal for me. You aren’t a pawn in some crazy game of your father’s. I’m going to marry you because I love you. Because I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

My heart threatens to leap out of my chest. How is he so perfect? This gorgeous man in front of me is so calm, patient, kind, and loving. How is he real?

“I love you, Brandt Collins.”

“I love you, Elissa Black.”

Epilogue

One year and three months later

Elissa

Brandt and I pass through the backyard gate of Riley’s parents’ house. Birds dance and sing in the air as the tantalizing smell of barbecue hits us. I can see my mother and Riley’s father over by the large grill, talking up a storm while Mr. Jaimeson cooks the sizzling hotdogs and hamburgers. Over in the corner near the cluttered food and drink table are Rhys and Riley’s mom, talking and laughing hard with people who look like they might be Rhys’ parents. His father looks exactly like him, but older and with more salt and pepper in his hair. His mother has soft features and is a little on the heavier side, but no less gorgeous, with her chestnut hair flowing in the light breeze.

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