Page 81 of Unexpected

She let out a small, panicked scream, and I lifted her to unsteady feet. “Damn,” she breathed out. “That could have been bad.”

“No shit. Are you okay?”

I looked her up and down, scanning for injuries, but I didn’t see any.

“Yeah, thank you for catching me.” Her breathing slowly went back to normal, and I eyed the red mark on her upper arm where I had caught her.

“That’s going to bruise,” I said, brushing my hand over the perfectly outlined red hand etched into her pale skin.

She shook her head and placed her hand on my cheek, drawing my attention to her face instead of her marked arm. “Different kinds of bruises, Luke. Thank you for catching me.”

I nodded and tried not to think too much into it. Different types of bruises, and she was right. Fuckface’s were to inflict pain, to abuse, and to degrade her. The bruises from me were to save her and bring her pleasure.

“What’s that?” She was clutching a bottle tightly in her right hand. Her knuckles were white with the strain of holding it.

“It’s—it’s the…,” she stuttered, “the bottle of champagne Michael bought us the night he proposed. He said we would drink it the morning of our wedding. I had completely forgotten I stored it above the fridge so no one would accidentally drink it.”

For a long moment, her face was unreadable, and she stared flatly at the bottle. It looked expensive, with detailed, gold writing on the black label. I noticed her hand shaking ever so slightly before I saw the single tear slip down her cheek.

I swiped away the tear with my thumb. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Angel.”

She sniffed and peered up at me with pain-filled eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“I promise it’s not.”

She huffed out a breath and scrubbed a hand through her hair that was falling over her shoulder in effortless brown waves.

“When we got engaged, I was so happy, but I was so naive. The abuse had already started way before then, but I didn’t see it. I was so blinded by love, but even that doesn’t make sense. After everything that’s happened, I don’t think I ever really loved him, which is a scary fucking thing to think. How am I ever supposed to trust my feelings knowing they were way off the mark for so many damn years?” She took a shaky breath, gripped the neck of the bottle even harder and looked like she was contemplating smashing it over the granite countertops.

“He was manipulative. It was his manipulation, gaslighting and everything else that made you second-guess not only your emotions and feelings but all the other things.” Her eyes were still locked on the damn champagne, and I wanted to smash it for her just to release some of her pain. If I thought it would have fixed it, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

“I think I was in love with the idea of him. A classic love that grew through each stage of life. It wasn’t crazy or epic or anything like that. Other than the obvious, there wasn’t a lot of drama and he seemed dependable. We had the same goals… I was just in love with the idea of what we could be. That’s a hard pill to swallow and such a strange realization to come to after all this time. It makes me so sad that I wasted so much time.”

I plucked the bottle from her hands and set it on the counter behind her. While she tried to argue with me, I scooped her up and planted her on the counter beside it.

“Look at me.” It wasn’t a request, and she complied, hearing the seriousness in my voice. I wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and let the other fall to her waist, positioning myself between her legs. Which was becoming my new favorite place to be.

I willed myself not to get lost in her hazel eyes that were more green than usual and drowning in pain. “Healing from the pain he put you through—all of it—will take a lifetime. You will probably struggle with certain things for the rest of your life, and there’s no telling what those things may be. But you’re going to keep moving forward because that’s all you can do. It’s going to take a while, but you’ll relearn how to live without him and his constant…” I struggled for the word. “Mistreatment.”

She licked her lips, biting her bottom one between her teeth and nodded. Something like understanding flickered across her face and she leaned into my touch at her neck and against her cheek.

“You’re right,” she murmured. “Why does it sound like you have a lot of knowledge on this topic?” Her voice was quiet, and I could tell that she was trying not to pry but was curious, nonetheless.

I stiffened at the question. Forcing the memories that the question evoked to stay at the back of my head like I needed them to was becoming more and more difficult the more Hazel discussed her situation. My inability to deal with my own shit wasn’t going to hinder me from helping her with hers, though. I would make sure of that, so I continued stroking her cheek with my thumb and kneaded her hip with my other hand.

I let the consternation and fear float away in their own time even as I felt Hazel's eyes on my face. I just watched her lips, slightly parted and letting out a steady breath every once in a while. I let the feeling of her in my hands, both of us safe, ground me as it all passed.

When I felt myself again, I slid my eyes to hers and lifted my mouth in the best smile I could muster.

“Conversation for another time, sweet girl.” Then I kissed her like I was trying to kiss away her pain and my own. And she let me.

She moved her small hands over my shoulders and tugged at the back of my hair the way I loved for her to do. It made my dick throb in response, and I pulled her closer to the edge of the counter, where she was at the perfect height to see how quickly she got me going.

Her little moan in response to feeling me hard right between her legs made me deepen the kiss, eager to feel her tongue against my own. It wasn’t much longer until we were both panting, and I forced myself to pull away.

I chuckled because,God, I felt like I was going to die if I didn’t get inside of her soon.

“Luke, you know you can tell me anything, right? You listen to me, and I listen to you. That’s how this would work…”

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