Page 71 of My Heart Before You

He could fix this.

He just needed a chance.

When the door opened, the look of her almost laid him flat. Her eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying, though they were dry and eerily blank now. Salted streaks lined her cheeks. Her chestnut hair was wild and disheveled around her shoulders. Shivering in a rumpled tank top and cotton shorts, her bare feet were nearly blue on the hardwood floor.

Even though she probably didn’t want him to touch her, he immediately picked her up. He expected her to fight him, but she didn’t. She actually dropped all her weight onto him like a ragdoll the minute he swooped her up, lying her head heavy on his shoulder.

After closing the door with a kick of his foot, he carried her to the couch. The flowers he bought crunched under her weight, dispelling their light fragrance into a heavy room. Kneeling on the ground beside her, he shrugged off his jacket and tucked it around her cold legs.

“I am so sorry for being such a complete ass the last few days. You opened up, and I responded in the worst possible way.” His hands gripped the microfiber edge of the couch seat, resisting the urge to reach for her. “I know I’ve been distant and cold, but I want to make it up to you if I can. I’ll do anything.” He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “I was just afraid because when you were sleeping, you said—”

“It’s not . . . today is . . .” she interrupted, her voice numb and scarily distant.

Her eyes fluttered from the ceiling where she had been staring and looked straight through him. Suddenly, his words dimmed in comparison to whatever she was trying with difficulty to communicate.

“I should’ve known better . . . I can’t have . . . any . . . again . . .” She waved a hand generally over the room. “This is all too much.”

He pushed a hand through his hair, not quite understanding what it was she meant. His heart squeezed wildly in his chest as she silently turned her back to him and buried her face in the pillows on the couch.

This was worse than if she had been crying. She seemed so far away as if he couldn’t reach her. His brain was flying with what would be the best thing to say next when she spoke again.

Her voice was muffled, but her sentence was coherent. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

A short, painful breath left his lungs. “Why are you apologizing tome? You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m the one that hurt you, and there’s nothing more I want than to take away all your pain right now.” His arms ached with his own powerlessness. “I wish I knew how.”

She turned her head slightly towards him. “I can’t be strong for you. Not today.”

Reaching out a hand, he tentatively ran it along her tangled hair, rubbing her back in slow, even circles. “You don’t have to be anything for me . . . ever. Just bewithme.”

He kept his touch soft and calming, even though it felt as if a pack of starving sharks were fighting viciously to devour his insides. A long time passed, and for a moment he thought she’d fallen asleep, but he heard the words in a low, hoarse whisper.

“Today is her birthday.”

His hand froze as every muscle in his body stiffened.

Not only had he abandoned her for the last four days after she’d finally told him about her past, but he did it right before what would have been her daughter’s birthday. He wasn’t just an asshole; he was the biggest asshole on the planet.

He blinked rapidly as his breath returned to him. “Oh, Emilie . . .” His words halted in his throat.

She shifted on the couch, and her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Sadness circled and hollowed them and would likely reside there in some amount forever. He glimpsed the severity of what she had been carrying around with her for the last four years and knew that she would carry it for the rest of her life.

If he was not prepared to accept her pain, then there would be no chance in truly loving her. Clarity swiftly pulsed through his body as a resounding answer sang in his mind. He’d accept whatever she was able and willing to give and be grateful for the chance to be with her for however long he could. If he could do nothing else in his life, he would love Emilie just as she was.

He yearned to soothe her. “May I hold you?”

A slight nod was all the response Colin needed. Lifting her up so that he could sit next to her, he interwove her body against his. The familiar comfort of having her in his arms vibrated through his veins, and he hoped she was experiencing a similar sensation. If he could absorb all of her suffering through touch, he would have gladly taken it into his body for her.

“It’s the first time that I’ve been alone on her birthday.” Her voice had regained most of its usual strength. “Even Ash didn’t know about today. When I lived in Virginia, I lived with my parents. There was always someone around on this day. I had,” she paused, “some really dark days after the accident, so I lived with them as I got better until I moved here. I thought I could handle today on my own. I’ve been so strong since moving here . . .”

He felt her shift in his arms, and he glanced down to see her staring at the brick fireplace. “She would have been four.”

An image of a miniature Emilie running around learning her ABCs and being tucked into bed each night by her loving family flashed through his mind.

Her shaky exhale vibrated against his body as she rested her cheek over his chest. Ambient street noise hummed beyond the large bay window as he strengthened his arms around her frame.

Colin swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “I know there’s nothing I can say, but is there anything I can do?”

When Emilie lifted her face again, her eyes shone with such vulnerability his breath caught. “Don’t leave.”

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