Page 105 of Even if You Fall

So, as promised, I’d begun seeing a new therapist once we got home. This therapist hadn’t shoved prescriptions at me and had actually tried helping. In all honesty, hehadhelped. It was now surprising to wake up in a different room of my apartment, when before, it had beenjust another day.

But I should’ve known that worry of what I might do would overwhelm me once I was in a house with people again. Not just people, buther.

“What’d I do?”

Chloe’s head moved against mine before she leaned back to better look at me. “You were just...you.”

My jaw ached from the pressure I was putting on it. “Meaning?”

She drew in a deep breath, then looked off to the side of my childhood bedroom. “I dunno about before you got in here. When I woke up, you were moving through the room, mumbling to yourself. I’m sure you thought you were overseas because it looked like you were clearing the room. Then you slipped into bed and said, ‘I got her.’”

My head bounced subtly at her explanation that was eerily similar to every night in Aruba.

“But,” she added, excitement lacing her tone, “that was hours ago.”

My absentminded nodding stopped at the unexpected words, and my eyes searched hers.

“It was completely dark when I first woke up,” she went on, glancing briefly to where light could be seen coming in behind the curtains. “I fell back asleep after you did until I felt you tense a few minutes ago.”

“Fell asleep...like this.” The words left me on more of a confused statement than a question. I always woke up mid-flashback, neverafter, and Chloe knew that. When her eyebrows just lifted in confirmation, I said, “That’s different.”

“That’s exciting,” she gently argued. “That’s huge progress.”

When my lips parted, she hurried to add, “Don’t tell me it’s dangerous, Adam. I know what you’re capable of, and I know what you’ve done before. But your subconscious clearly wants to keep me safe. You have to see that by now.”

I waited until I was sure she was done, the tension slowly easing out of my body as I listened to her adorable ramble. “I was just gonna agree with you, Bubbles.”

Her cheeks darkened just enough to catch my attention. “Oh. Well, good,” she whispered as she burrowed closer.

I curled my arm tighter around her, savoring the moment and the feel of her against me. Negating my words when I reminded her, “We still can’t do this though.”

Telling Chloe the depth of Owen Vance’s manipulations had been one thing—one very difficult thing. Getting her to believe them had been another. But I’d sworn to never be anything like him, and I vowed to prove it every day.

I was also determined to give her the relationship and life she’d wanted, regardless of what he’d coerced her into. Whichmeant we’d stayed far from bedrooms ever since Aruba, and there’d been plenty of nights where we’d ended up on opposite sides of the couch from each other.

She was worth it.

Besides, I’d learned dozens of things about her in these months that I was sure I wouldn’t have taken the time to if we hadn’t been taking it slow. Like that she hummed movie scores when she cooked and would choose a physical book over her Kindle any day. She preferred reading with her knees curled up to her chest and an iced coffee close by, and watching shows stretched out under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn, and she was absolutely the nerd her shirts claimed her to be.

She wanted to live in Huntley forever because she loved the feel and look of the town, and thought it was perfect for families. What happened with her sister had made her afraid to have kids for so long, but now, being a mom was what she wanted most. And watching her parents shed their robotic personas and transition into the distraught, angry strangers they’d become ever since Chloe gently tried revealing why they needed help was devastating to her. But she didn’t know how to give up on them, and I loved that about her.

I loved her. Wholly. Desperately.

Which is why we needed to leave this room.

“I know,” she whispered as she dropped her forehead to my chest, her words muffled when she added, “But you’re warm and comfy.”

A laugh scraped up my throat as I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “Warm and comfy,” I echoed dryly, “the prerequisites to dating an obsessive reader.”

Chloe just hummed in satisfied approval.

Lingering there, I felt my pulse kick back up for an entirely different reason as I let my thoughts drift to the nightstanddrawer behind her. “And what are the prerequisites to marrying an obsessive reader?”

“Building me a library?—”

“You already have one.”

“—witha rolling ladder,” she continued over me, her voice still muffled by my chest.

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