Page 58 of Mended Hearts

I glance over at him to see him looking my way with one brow cocked. I hold his tired gaze for longer than I should. He wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t sleep. It makes me sad, and I wonder what he sees when he does close his eyes.

I glance down, looking at his arm that’s resting on his khaki shorts. I’ve wanted to ask him about his injury since first seeinghim, but it seems wrong to do so. But I no longer care, and he’s drunk.

“Does it ever hurt?”

He doesn’t ask me what. He knows exactly what I’m referring to as he takes his right hand and rubs over the white cloth that’s covering part of his forearm. “Sometimes. Every now and then I’ll get these phantom pains.”

“Do you take meds for it?” I hate the idea of him being in pain, but I also don’t want him turning into a loose cannon like Brian.

“I did in the beginning. Now I’ll only take over-the-counter stuff.”

“Does it help?”

“For the most part. If not, I find something to busy myself with and get the focus off it.”

“Is that why you started this project?” I gesture to the fully finished porch swing that’s waiting to be rehung.

He looks out onto the street, deep in thought. “No, it’s pain related, but a different kind.”

“Why endure the pain if you have something that can subside it?”

Again, he’s silent, still for several long seconds. Like he’s trying to work out how much he wants to tell me. “Because I’m still trying to figure out if it’s my antidote or my kryptonite.”

Chills sweep through me, bad and good ones simultaneously. He’s referring to me, I know it. I can either heal him or destroy him. I hold the power. But I don’t want to be the one responsible for his potential downfall. He sighs and gives me the answer I was after. “Because I don’t want to become dependent on it.”

I force a smile, trying not to let him see the storm inside me, the sadness I feel for our lost future, the sadness from all the pain I’ve caused him over the years, and the euphoria to think that he still might love me. I have to clear my throat to get thewords out. “Oh yes, I forgot how independent you are.” I stick my tongue out, trying to lighten the mood. But the way he’s staring at me makes me think I did anything but. He quickly glances from my eyes to my tongue, then back to my eyes. He gulps hard, then turns his head away from me. I do the same as I rest it back on the house. Today has been one hell of a day—emotionally and physically.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

DUSTIN

Iknew she was asleep before her head landed on my shoulder. First, she went quiet on me, but I thought she was just enjoying the calm between us like I was. I wasn’t drunk like everyone thought. I was just really enjoying the time with my brother. It’s something we’ve never been able to experience. I kept myself away and shut off from everyone and lost out on so much. I intend to restore what I can.

Even with this woman next to me. I want to fight for her, but it feels so wrong when she’s married. I despise the idea of stealing another man’s woman. And I hate the idea of putting her in that predicament even more. I know how big her heart is. I know how much she always wants to do what’s right. Do I give her an ultimatum that’s eventually going to hurt someone? One where she knows, no matter the outcome, she’ll be inflicting some sort of pain?

She already has too much she’s dealing with.Brian.Was everything I did to protect him for nothing? Am I now the reason she’s suffering?

It just doesn’t seem fair. But do I just lie low and not show her she’s worth fighting for? Do I just pretend the last thirteen years have meant nothing…that the months we were togetherand what we shared meant nothing? All I know is I can’t walk back into her life and just be like,“BAM! Time to make a choice.”

I contemplate these thoughts as I sit, enjoying the closeness of her leaning against me—not to mention the light snores that escape every now and again. I can only imagine how truly exhausted she must be. I want to stay like this all night, soak it up for as long as I possibly can. What I really want is to be able to experience this nearness while she’s awake. But when it’s like this, it’s innocent. It’s subconscious.

For now, I’ll take what I can get. And what I’m getting from something as simple as this is that after all this time, she’s still drawn to me. That in itself is a victory.

As much as I’m loving this, I need to put her in bed. She needs all the rest she can get. Emotional exhaustion is worse than physical, and she’s dealing with both. I don’t want the closeness to end. I want to be selfish, but when it comes to her, it’s impossible.

I slowly pull myself away from her, steadying her head with my hand. I get on my feet but stay crouched. I slide my left arm behind her back, pulling her into me so that her head rests against my chest. She makes a few noises but doesn’t wake. I push my right arm under her legs, wrapping it around to pull her snuggly against me. Once I know I fully have her, I push up.

Using the tip of my shoe, I fling the screen door open. I don’t fully walk in because I don’t want it slamming behind us. I hold my foot out, letting the door catch on it, slowly allowing it to close behind me. The house is brightly lit. Pretty sure the girls have every damn light on. I make my way to the couch and carefully lay her down. I’d put her in bed, but it’s broken and I don’t want her rolling out of it. The other two rooms have beds, but with them just being painted, I feel the couch is the safer choice.

I unzip her sandals before pulling the quilt over that’s hanging off the back of the couch. She looks so peaceful. I pray for the day I can slip in behind her and hold her all night. I know I’d actually be able to sleep with her in my arms. The effect she has on me is unexplainable. But something about her evens me out, grounds me, and excites me all at once.

I brush the hair off her face, pushing it behind her ear. I lean in and press my lips against her forehead. I’m treading on dangerous territory. But hey, it’s something I’m good at.

“I wish you were mine,” I whisper as I reluctantly pull away from her.

“Me too,” she mumbles as she turns to her side.

I turn all the lights out except the hall and lock up behind me. I gather the trash from dinner and toss it into the bin on the side of the house. I need to get back to my parents’ house so I can shower and get some shut-eye, but my mind is on high alert, and I know I won’t be able to sleep. Instead, I begin to finish what Dax and I barely started tonight. That guy can be such a distraction. One I welcome these days.

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