Page 47 of Make Me Feel Again

We haven’t done much today. We fly back tomorrow. The fire has been going most of the day, and Rylee has been putting chick flick after chick flick on, and I have felt the most content I have in a long time. Now we sit outside with a hot chocolate she insisted on making, which I can’t deny is one of the most amazing hot chocolates I’ve tasted. She said they had all the toppings, marshmallow, cream. So it seemed like a heart attack in a cup when she gave it to me, but she looked like a kid at Christmas, so there was no way I could turn it down, and I’m glad I didn’t.

Rylee finished hers a while ago, and since it’s cold, she curled up next to me on the long chair and wrapped herself around my waist. Her head lies on my chest while we stare out at the view. The water on the lake glistens from the sun, and you can see the reflection from the snowy mountains that surround us. It looks like something out of a film. I haven’t stopped thinking about leaving this little bubble we are in, and what it’s going to be like when we return home. I have to go back to seeing her when our schedules fit, and that kills me. How am I meant to let her go now. She shifts and her big green eyes burn into my face.

“You okay?”

She smiles and nods. Sitting up and rubbing her hands together. I grab them and rub them between mine to warm her up.

“Cash.”

I raise an eyebrow at her to let her know she has my attention, and she refuses to make eye contact. Something about the way she says it and her refusal to meet my gaze is telling me she’s a bit nervous.

“Go on.” I urge her.

“Do you still think about him?” Her gentle voice breaks through the crisp air.

“Everyday,” I whisper. She goes silent as we watch the sun disappear behind the mountains. A light breeze whips through the air, and Rylee’s scent mixes in with it, creating this barrier around me, a content barrier. “I sometimes go to call him . . .” I think of the many times I tried to call him. “Then I remember, and fuck, it hurts, like physically hurts.”

“Why does life have to be so complicated?” Rylee lets out a heavy sigh, and before I can even answer, she follows up with “Do you feel guilty?”

“About what?”

“Us?” she mumbles.

“Yes.”

“It still eats away at me.” She sniffles.

“Hey.” I nudge her so she sits up. “Talk to me.”

“Like you do me?” She injects. “I know it still eats away at you. You can’t even look at a picture of Jace anymore.” Her gaze drops down as tears track down her face.

“I don’t want to be the reason you can’t look at pictures of your own son anymore.”

“Hey, look at me.” I bring my finger underneath her chin, lifting her face. Her eyes look everywhere but me.

“Eyes, Rylee.” Her watery gaze collides with mine. “I’m the reason I can’t look at pictures of him. Not you, me.” I cup her cheeks. “I want you to talk to me. Don’t bottle it up around me. I want us to share our pain, together.”

“I know, I just.”

“Jace was the love of your life. You loved each other unconditionally. I know that. Don’t ever think you can’t talk about him with me. Tell me everything or nothing. It’s up to you, but I know you will always love him, Rylee and I don’t ever want that to change for you. You were perfect for my son, and I’m so thankful he got to share the last of his years with you. At least Jace was able to feel what true love was before he died. I had never seen him so happy as he was with you, so don’t ever forget that.” Tears continue to fall down her face as I brush my fingers against her cheek, trying to catch them.

“Do—” She gulps and drops her eyes to our hands linked together. “Do you think we should have waited.” She glances over the lake. “Do you think this is the wrong time for us?”

“Do you?” An ache sets in my chest. I can’t force her to stay with me, no matter how much I may want to, but I don’t know if I could let her go now.

“I don’t think there is ever a right or wrong time, whether it’s two months or two years after, and I’m not dumb enough to not understand that a lot of people will see this as truly fucked up. Some won’t understand, and the ones who don’t, well, they can fuck themselves. Until they are in our shoes, they can’t say shit. Their opinions are irrelevant to the feelings we have.

“I don’t know what the future holds. I can’t promise you there won’t be days where I’ll crash and burn, I can’t promise you that a wave of grief won’t come and take you under. I can’t promise you that one day you won’t look at me and break down with guilt. Those things hit us when we least expect it. But what I do know is, when you need me, I’ll be there. When you think that wave will drown you, I’ll pull you back to the shore. When you want to scream and cry, I’ll be there to hear you scream and collect those tears. When life gets too heavy, I’ll help you carry through it. And most of all—” I take a deep breath. I know this is the time, I need to tell her. “I want to be with you and . . .” I freeze. I’ve never been worried about what a woman may think or say, but I’ve never said these words to anyone, not in the way they mean anyway. I run my fingers through my hair.

“Cash . . .”

Her voice gives me all the strength I need. “Goddamn it, Rylee, I’m in fucking love with you.” I exhale. “It’s as simple and as complicated as that. I don’t expect you to say it back, I don’t expect you to say anything at all. I just needed to tell you. I fucking love you, Rylee Matthews, and that’s never going to change.”

She chokes on a sob before throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my neck, then pulls back, and her eyes dance between mine. “I don’t know if I can say it yet, Cash, but just know, I’m not going anywhere.” Then she wraps me in another hug.

“I don’t think I could let you go even if you wanted to,” I whisper, knowing in this moment, I’d burn this world down if she tried to leave me.

Chapter thirty-eight

---