Page 82 of Everlasting Promises

Can I call you?

I fumble with the device, cursing myself, and call her. After one ring, her chuckle reaches my ears and the air in my lungs gushes past my lips. It’s the best sound I’ve heard all day, and I soak it up like it’s essential for my wellbeing. I should feel scared at how quickly Hope and Evan have gotten under my skin and become an integral part of my life, but I’m not. It’s surprising how ready I am to make them mine.

“That was fast,” she says with a chuckle.

“Hey,” I murmur on a breath.

“Hey.” She must still be smiling because I can hear it in that simple greeting.

I lean back against my headboard and get comfortable, resting my free hand behind my head. “How was your day?” I wonder if she can hear the deeper questions—the ones I really want to ask.

Are you okay? Did I break you? Did I break us before we began?

She chuckles softly, and I can imagine her sliding her fingers through her hair and holding it back from her face the way she does. The sound of a long breath fans out across the line, then there’s a pause. “Where do I start?”

“Wherever you want, Cookie.”

Rex sighs from his bed, still watching me.

“Cookie,” she whispers. “Wyatt never gave me a nickname, but I like that you’ve given me one. The way your voice softens when you say it. It … uh … makes me feel really special.”

“Good, because you are.”

The rustling of fabric and the creak of bed springs fill the silence. “I’m a broken mess, that’s what I am.”

I shake my head. “You’re beautiful … inside and out.”

“You make me feel beautiful for the first time in a really long time,” she confesses softly.

“I’m glad.” My chest fills with warmth which radiates out through my body. If I can help her see her beauty and bring her back into the light, I’ll consider it one of my greatest achievements.

“You make me feel like maybe some of my broken pieces aren’t so broken anymore.”

“There’s beauty in being broken, Hope. You just don’t see it.”

“Ben,” she murmurs in the softest voice.

“Have you ever heard ofkintsugi?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“It’s a Japanese method for repairing broken pottery. Using a special Japanese lacquer, artisans glue the pieces back together and then paint the joins with a gold, silver, or platinum powder. Some believe the repaired pottery is even more stunning than it was before it was broken.” Her breaths fill the line. “When I look at you, all I see is the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the more time I spend with you, the more stunning you become. Your broken pieces make you beautifully unique.”

Silence fills the line, and the temptation to fill it with words to lighten the mood is strong, but maybe the silence will give her time to come to terms with what I’ve said. She clears her throat. “That … that’s beautiful, Ben. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You just need to believe what I’m telling you.”

“I can’t believe you see me like that,” she whispers. The line goes quiet again, except for her breathing. “I wanted to apologize for this morning.”

My stomach drops and twists on itself. I know she regrets what happened, but I can’t bear to hear her say the words. As much as I know she does, I can’t find it in myself to regret it. The only part of what happened this morning I regret is when she broke down. “You don’t?—”

“Yes, I do. You don’t deserve to be dealing with my emotional breakdowns. This morning was all my fault. The other night when I kissed you … that was my fault, too. You’ve been so patient, allowing me the space to do things when I’m ready and then when I do … I fall apart. I’m embarrassed by my behavior.”

I can’t sit here and listen to her anymore, so I climb from the bed and pace across the cool hardwood floor. “Hope,” I rumble. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Well, thank you, but I think I do. You didn’t ask for any of this, but you’ve continued to be there for me through my tears. You’re such a good man.” She goes quiet, and I absorb her words, soaking up her compliment. I’ve always worked hard to be a good person. To be the opposite of everything I grew up with. “I’ve had an emotional day, and to be honest, I’m beyond exhausted.”

“Do you wanna talk about it, or would you rather get some sleep?” I don’t want her to hang up, but if she needs sleep …

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