Page 136 of Caught from Behind

“I…” She exhales. “He doesn’t hurt me anymore.”

“Doesn’t hurt?” I ask. “Or you’ve shoved it all down so deeply that you no longer feel anything?”

Her eyes soften, and she crosses over to me, placing her palm on my chest and mine over her heart. “I feel you,” she murmurs. “I feel you here. Just like I felt you and Knox storming in here, and your dad coming back in?—”

“He called me.”

Her smile is gentle, so fucking sweet that my heart squeezes. “I figured.”

“And you’re…really okay?”

Her palm flattens and she steps closer. “I feel what’s in here and…” She sighs. “Honey, I don’t think I ever grieved the loss of what Knox and I had. Not until you held me on that beach, not until you spoke of your own hurts, not until your dad realized he’d gone so wrong and tried to change.” She shakes her head, laughs humorlessly. “He actually wanted me to apologize to her for being rude to his wife. Like what? And then he tells me that he wants me to be okay with being left behind because he was hurting? What the fuck?” Her exhale is clipped. “Knox didn’t leave me. Nova didn’t either. And…you’re so deeply sewn into my soul that I know you’ll always be part of me.”

“Chérie.”

“So…I’m done.” She presses her lips together then releases them. “Because he’s gone—the dad I had and…that’s okay. It’s a pain that maybe won’t ever go away, but it has nothing to do with the man who was just in here. That’s not my dad, and he won’t ever be.”

“Christ, baby,” I rasp, eyes burning. “I don’t want you to have to bury your pain or pretend?—”

She cups my jaw. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand the gift you’ve given me? I don’t have to bury it or pretend to be okay because you’re here. Because you’ll hold me and wipe away my tears. Because you love me. Me.”

Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to cry.

I hug her tightly, burying my face in her throat. “I’m here.”

“I know.”

Love and relief tangle in me as I blink back my tears, as I hold the woman I love close and know that neither of us are perfect, that we’re still healing, but that she believes in me, in us, and so…

We’ll be okay.

Eventually, she runs her hand through my beard and whispers, “You’re sporting hockey funk.”

Surprising me.

Always.

I can’t wait for a lifetime more of them.

Grinning, I lift my head and tug a lock of her hair. “I’ll remember to change and shower next time before I ride to the rescue.”

“Good.” She slips from my arms and I get to take in the beauty as her special brand of mischief takes over, as my Ella shines through, as she…

Surprises me once again.

Because she walks to her station, pulls open a drawer, and unearths her…

Clippers.

“Should I touch up that haircut of yours, Patches?”

EPILOGUE

Ella, Three Months Later

“Chérie.”

Sleep is a heavy, comfortable blanket.

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