Page 62 of Cherry Auction

I nod miserably, vaguely remembering the dark place I disappeared to yesterday. Or at least, I remember coming out of it in the shower, anyway. It was dark but safe. Different from?—

My brain stalls out before finishing the thought and I cling back to Domhnall, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

“It’s all right,” he soothes. “You’re all right now.”

I’m not sure exactly what has flipped the dynamic so dramatically between yesterday and today but I’m so glad to be here with him holding me.

I wanted away from him, I also remember. But that was before?—

“Domhnall,” I start, my voice as quiet as a mouse, “What were we to each other? Back then? What happened?”

He squeezes me tighter. “It’s a long story. You need food in your system.”

I nod against his chest, maybe glad to put it off a little longer. Whatever the story is, it obviously doesn’t have a happy ending.

I— I?—

I betray him at the end.

Maybe I don’t want to hear it after all. Maybe I can beg him to only tell me the beginning, where we were happy like in the pictures. Like turning off a movie before the sad part. I made Moira do that withThe Notebook.

I just want to hear the good part. The part where he looked at me like he loved me.

I wanted to be whole but I’m obviously broken beyond repair. I’ll want this instead. I can be whole with him if he’ll just look at me like that again.

If he’s holding me like this, does it mean he’s forgiven me? We can just fast-forward to this part where we’re happy again. All I want is to be happy in the arms of someone who cares about me. I don’t care if that’s childish. I don’t care about fucking anything but being here and safe and with him.

But too soon, Domhnall sits up and lets me go.

I reach for him but he’s by the door. I sit up, too, and look down at myself. I’m wearing one of Domhnall’s oversized undershirts and his boxers. I wrap my arms around myself.

Maybe I shouldn’t be giving into this new obsession for Domhn so easily. But the pictures gave me permission. I lovedhim before, so it’s okay to give into this deep feeling now. I’m broken inside, but there’s this too, and this is good. Maybe the only good thing inside me.

And Donny wasn’t even pulling away really, because he’s hurrying back around the bed with a pair of socks. He lifts each of my feet, kissing the sole of my foot and then fitting the sock on, one foot at a time.

“Your feet are cold.” He frowns at himself. “I shouldn’t have allowed your feet to get so cold.”

He’s literally kissingmyfeet now.

I can only blink down at him, stunned. My insides flood with warmth.

Is this what…happinessfeels like?

He lifts up and takes my hand to draw me from the bed to follow him.

“Breakfast now. Did you sleep well?” he demands, half Donny, and half Sir.

“Um,” I blink again. “I barely remember my head hitting the pillow. Then I woke up just now. So, um, good.”

“Good, good,” he murmurs, hand rubbing my back as we walk to the elevator. He pushes the down button, and I tense, eyes flicking up to him.

Is this a trick? Is he taking me back to the basement now?

I hesitate when the doors open. I should run away from him. I’m an idiot to step back into this elevator with him again. But like a sheep mesmerized by the shepherd’s touch at the small of my back, I just step right in.

He doesn’t hit the basement floor, though, he hits G. I think that means ground floor? I still barely breathe for the short ride down.

My breath expels in relief and confusion when he urges me forward by the light touch at my back when the doors open at the ground floor.