Page 1 of What We Broke

prologue

LEO

There was nothing but silence.

For a room full of people, it was so hauntingly quiet.

Everyone spoke with their sad eyes and the hunch of their shoulders.

Nobody wanted to be here.

Not like this.

Not under these circumstances.

Rising up off my chair in the corner of the room, I walk out, purposefully keeping my head down to avoid looking at the way Jesse is sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, holding and comforting a distraught Zara.

Her skin is blotchy, cheeks red, eyes bloodshot, nose running. She’s no longer crying. Her agonizing cries from before are now nothing more than soundless tears that won’t stop falling.

I can’t just sit here and watch as her body is poked and prodded and prepared to participate in something she didn’t sign up for.

“Leo,” Jesse calls out, but I don’t stop.

With my hands fisted inside the pockets of my jacket, I take myself to the small kitchenette located a few doors down.

Thankfully the room is empty, but as I try to shut the door on myself, Jesse’s large frame slides into view, stopping me.

When Jesse’s in a room, it’s impossible to look anywhere else. Physically he’s built larger than most. Between his height and the width of his shoulders, he easily takes up any doorway.

When God made him, He had surely sculpted him out of stone. He is a masterpiece that I have the privilege of admiring every day. His body is all toned muscles, deep lines, and perfectly placed dips. There isn’t a day where I wouldn’t beg to be held by this man, beg to be crushed under his strength and weight.

But Jesse’s body has nothing on his face.

A face that had aged more in the last few hours than it had in all the seven years we’ve been together. There isn’t one specific thing about Jesse Hunt’s face that stands out. He has close-to-black hair, a thick but trimmed beard, and very common brown eyes.

But it’s all about the details.

It’s the way he looks at me with those eyes, the way they say,“I want you. I need you. I love you.”The way each of his smiles says the words without him ever having to utter them.

It is life’s greatest privilege to be in the presence of this man, to love this man and be loved by him.

Stepping farther inside, Jesse closes the door and reaches for me.

His large, calloused hands cradle my face.

Red rimmed and surrounded by thick, wet lashes, his chocolate-colored eyes stare into mine, somber and overflowing with sadness.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks, guiding me back until I’m pressed against a floor-to-ceiling cupboard.

Words fail me, so I shake my head, raise my hands in the air, and shrug.

His eyes brim with unshed tears and mine follow.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice soft, the emotion thick. “I love you so fucking much.”

Gripping the collar of his shirt, I drag him to me, slamming my mouth onto his. But even with his lips on mine, a sob dislodges from my throat.

“Baby,” he breathes out. “Tell me what you need.”

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