Page 84 of War

I kneel at her feet and rest my palms on her thighs. She presses her fingers against my cheek. The move causes the towel to slip, but my attention doesn’t lower to her breasts, which are now barely covered. No, my eyes find the tiny, jagged scars that line the insides of her arms.

An intense rage slams into me as I grasp one wrist to get a better look. “What the fuck is this? Who did this to you?”

Her lids flutter closed as she shakes her head. Then she takes in a long, unsteady breath. When she opens her eyes again, there’s nothing but defeat there. “My sister was like Josie. She was sick.” She swallows thickly, focusing on a spot somewhere near my throat rather than my face. “I was created to save her.”

My anger dips, along with my gaze. I survey her scars again and press my lips to her wrist, willing her to feel at least a little of the comfort I want to give her. Fuck, I feel helpless crouched here, knowing I can’t make these marks disappear.

“Is this why you always wear long sleeves?” I whisper between kisses to the jagged lines that mark her pale skin.

“It’s easier to cover them up. I hate having to explain it,” she rasps. “I have bad veins, but my sister needed a lot of blood during her treatment. It’s just scar tissue.”

“You said you were created to save her?” I ask with a frown.

“Savior sibling. That’s one term people use. I’m a hashtag. A controversy, really. But my parents would have done anything to savemy sister, and the doctors told them that the umbilical cord blood of a sibling with the right genetic makeup was her best chance of survival. They made me in a test tube, and here I am.” She offers me a sad smile and a gentle shrug.

“Ava.” There’s a knife in my chest, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like I’m bleeding out in front of her. I don’t know what the fuck to say. But as I process her words, so much makes sense.

She makes sense.

Her quiet demeanor. The need to care for others. Her dedication to Josie.

“My whole life, I was told my purpose was greater because I was created to save my sister.Shewas my purpose.” She lets out a long sigh. “Now your kids are my purpose. I’m here because you need me.” A sob catches in her throat. “I’m so happy to be needed, because I love them. I love them all so much, and I don’t want you to lose them. I’ve never been loved like you love them. And they deserve that.” She sniffles and wipes at her cheek with one hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I’m not sad about any of this. I’m happy. I’m happy I get to play a part in their lives and watch them be loved in the way they deserve. I’m happy they have you. I just?—”

Hauling myself to my feet, I lift her, then spin and settle on the bed, positioning her on my lap. With my arms around her, I rock from side to side, my head on her shoulder, kissing her tear-soaked cheek. “You aren’t giving yourself enough credit. Josie has known a love like that since the day she met you. We’re all incredibly lucky to have you here, not just because of a so-called purpose, but because of who you are.”

Ava shakes as she sobs in my arms. With every tear that falls, my heart shatters further. It guts me, watching the woman who is always fighting break before my eyes. I’m at a loss for what to do or what to say, so I hold her tight and stroke her hair until her sobs turn to shuddering breaths. Then I shift back and slide her off my lap and onto the mattress in front of me so I can braid her hair.

Her voice is rough when she speaks again. “Where did you learn to braid?”

“My mother would get these awful nauseous spells when I was growing up. It was just the two of us, and she never complained, buton the days she felt especially lousy, when she couldn’t shake the migraines, she’d braid her hair before bed. She said it soothed the headaches. So I watched her and learned to do it myself. She’d close her eyes and listen as I told her about my day. It became our thing. Even when she didn’t have headaches.”

Ava looks at me over her shoulder, her green eyes vibrant from tears.

Dammit. Despite how they glimmer like jewels, I never want to see them like that again.

“You were twelve when you lost her?”

“Yeah. Moved in with my father that summer. I knew no one. Hell, I barely knew my dad. And Dory—” I sigh. “She wasn’t like you. She couldn’t care less about her husband’s son. I was an inconvenience. She wanted my dad to give all his attention to Xander.” I came to terms with it all years ago. For a long time, I did everything I could to get her to like me. To get her to love me. But there wasn’t a thing I could do to make that woman accept me the way I needed. “That’s why it was so important to me that you wanted Brayden and Scarlett too, not just Josie. I know what it’s like to be the unwanted kid.”

Ava leans her head back against my chest, her eyes locking with mine. “I’m really sorry about your mom.”

I press a kiss to her forehead. “Me too.”

She shifts and settles beside me on the bed, her head on her pillow, still watching me. “There’s a charity event next weekend.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Will you come?”

“I told coach I would.” I sigh. “I know I haven’t shown up like I should have in the past, but?—”

She grasps my hand and pulls it to her lips. The gentle kiss surprises me and quiets my defenses.

“I meant will you come with me?”

My eyes widen. “Like as your date?”

Her lips lift in the smallest of smiles. “Yeah, you are my husband, aren’t you?”

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