Page 121 of At the Edge of Surrender

This was the thing. We kept swinging between light and the heavy weight of her grief. Grief that seemed compounded by the scars she desperately tried to keep hidden.

Wondered if I was the only one who could see them, as clear as if she had long, puckered blade marks covering every inch of exposed skin.

I didn’t have time to respond before another text blipped through.

Little Warrior

How is that possible? When I thought you were supposed to be my enemy?

My stomach fisted. Hated that it caused her pain. Her belief that by me raising my daughter, it somehow meant she was supposed to become less important in Maci’s life. I had zero fucking intention of that.

Me

Was never supposed to be your enemy. Was meant to make you glow.

I could almost feel the heat flame down the hall, radiating from her room and crashing into me.

I stabbed the heel of my hand into my eye.

Fuck, this was painful.

Taking my time.

Taking my time when I normally glutted and devoured without thought. When I normally used up whatever random women had to offer, never close to an attachment made.

And there I was, attached.

LittleWarrior

It’s what I do. Glow when I think of you.

Hesitation billowed out with it. Like maybe she thought she was giving up some power by admitting it when she was the one with all the power over me.

Me

Can I see it? That glow?

Me

Told you I was angling at seeing one of those smiles. How about it?

Me

FaceTime me?

Faint, tinkling laughter filtered from the other room. A swarm of her joy that curled beneath the door and crawled up to me.

So, it was raw joy I was feeling when I put through the call without waiting for her answer.

I could hear her phone ringing, and one second later, her stunning face filled my screen.

A dull halo of light surrounded her from the lamp on her bedside table.

Her voice hushed and whispered when she spoke.

“Are you seriously calling me from across the hall?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I can’t see you?”

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