Page 15 of Loaded Laces

Separate.

Watching her hurt.

Not holding her.

“We were kids, baby,” I say, moving closer, tucking my arm around her shoulders and drawing her against me. “We were young and in love and who knows if we would have gone the distance?”

Her words are barely audible. “You wanted to make that happen.”

“I did,” I agree, smoothing my hand up and down her back. “And, yeah, it took me a few years to understand the whys of our breakup, but I got there and I’m not pissed about it.”

“You were pissed in the locker room.”

“Because you showed up out of the blue with accusations in your eyes and barbed words on your tongue.”

She exhales and it’s sharp. “I know.” It’s a whisper before her head tilts back and she glances up at me. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about how I ended things.”

I hate that I can feel the bumps of her spine as I stroke her back, vow to make my first order of business (afterI get her and Quinn set up in my guest rooms) is to get more food in her on the regular. “Like I said, Belle, it took me a bit to understand what you were doing andwhyyou were doing it?—”

She lifts her head, pretty eyes widening.

“My mom told me what she said to you.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “She still feels guilty about it, baby.”

“She was right,” Belle murmurs. “We were too young, and you needed to focus on building your life, not on a girlfriend back home.”

“She wanted you to build your life too.”

Belle inhales deeply, holding the breath in her lungs for long enough that I have to table the urge to shake her and remind her to breathe.

Then, fucking finally, she exhales.

“I did build a life, honey.”

I think of medical debt and the eviction, the bumps on her spine and shadows in eyes I used to know better than my own.

She hasn’t built a life to live.

She’s spent all these years surviving.

And I’m going to do something about it.

I cup her cheek, tilt her head up so her eyes come back to mine. “Let’s forget about the past. For tonight, anyway,” I add when I see the protest well up in her expression. “I have plenty of guest rooms. You and Quinn each lay claim to one until your next move is decided, yeah?”

She’s still, so still, I have to resist that urge to shake again.

“I can’t ask you to?—”

“You didn’t.” A beat. “Which means you’re going to take me up on my offer of hospitality and not argue. Just for tonight,” I add when I see another protest creep into her face.

Her eyes close and she’s quiet for a long, long moment.

Then she sighs.

And I know I’ve won.

“Just for tonight,” she murmurs.

I setthe box of donuts on the counter and turn for the coffee pot, not surprised when I hear hurried footsteps and Belle’s hushed voice.

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