Page 71 of Below the Barrel

I trail behind Maliah, my heart racing as I catch up to her. She’s already outside, breathing in short, angry bursts as she stands by our rental car.

I unlock the door, and we both get in, the silence between us heavy as I start the engine. I don’t know what to say, but I know we need to get far away from here—away from him, away fromall of it. So, I drive, the night swallowing us up as we leave her father’s house behind.

We pull into the driveway,the soft hum of the engine the only sound as I shut it off. The house feels eerily quiet, especially now that Griffin and Eliana are gone. It’s just the two of us, and Maliah hasn’t said a single word since we left her father’s. She’s been crying, her quiet sobs breaking me apart as I drove.

She gets out of the car and heads toward the door, her shoulders slumped, and I can tell she’s about to shut herself off for the night. The thought of going to bed like this, with everything left hanging in the air, makes my chest tighten. I can’t stand it. Not after all the truth that’s come out.

Before she can slip away into the bedroom, I gently grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Please talk to me, princess,” I beg quietly, my voice sounding more broken than I expected.

For a second, I’m afraid she’s going to pull away, but to my surprise her shoulders start to shake, and she bursts into sobs. Her whole body trembles as she breaks down in front of me.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything. For what my father said, for how he put you down. I should’ve fought for you, for us…I shouldn’t have believed you when you said you didn’t love me anymore. I should’ve known something wasn’t right. And then…the way I treated you after, Koa, I’ve been horrible to you.”

Her words are a mess of apologies, tumbling out between sobs, and it’s killing me to see her like this. I pull her trembling body into my arms, holding her tightly against me.

“Shh, none of that matters anymore,” I whisper, rubbing her hair, my chin resting on top of her head. “You don’t need to apologize, princess. None of it matters.”

But she keeps crying, her tears soaking into my shirt as I hold her. I know she’s carrying a lot of guilt, but none of it is on her. Not the breakup, not what her father said. It’s on me. I should’ve told her the truth from the start, should’ve never let things get this far. But I hold her tighter now, trying to soothe her with every touch, every whispered word.

All I want is for her to know that we’re in this together. No more lies, no more running.

Just us.

I pull back just enough to look at her, brushing the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. Her eyes are red, face streaked with tears, but to me, she’s still the most beautiful person in the world. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding as I gather the words I’ve been holding inside for so long.

“Maliah,” I whisper, cupping her face, “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re it for me, princess. There’s no one else, no one I’ve ever wanted or will ever want the way I want you.”

She looks at me, her lip trembling, like she’s not sure whether to believe me after everything. But I keep going, needing her to know this, to feel it in every word.

“I’d go through it all again,” I say, my voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “Every fight, the breakup, every moment of pain since then—if it means you’d come back to me in the end. I’d do it all, because you’re worth it, Maliah. You’ve always been worth it.”

Her tears start falling again, but this time there’s something different in her eyes. She’s looking at me like she’s seeing me for the first time in a long time. I lean my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling as we stand there, so close, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist anymore.

“You’re my heart, princess. You always have been. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Just you.”

I kiss her then, soft and slow, pouring everything I have into that kiss. It’s not about passion this time, not about desire—it’s about love, about everything I feel for her, everything I’ve been holding back. And as her arms wrap around me, holding me as tightly as I’m holding her, I know she feels it too.

I lift her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carry her to the bedroom. She rests her head against my shoulder, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt, and I feel like I’m holding my whole world in my arms. Gently, I lay her down on the bed, kneeling in front of her, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I begin to take off her heels. I press soft kisses from her ankle to her knee, my lips lingering on her skin, worshipping every inch of her.

She watches me, her breathing shallow, her eyes filled with something raw and vulnerable, but I can see the love there too. I help her take off her dress, sliding it down her body, and then her underwear, leaving her bare before me. The sight of her takes my breath away.

I feel her fingers working at my shirt, untucking it, and then she’s unbuckling my belt, her touch so familiar yet so electrifying.

I stand naked before her, watching as her eyes travel over my body until her eyes find mine again, and it feels like the world stops spinning, and everything we’ve been through fades away. I gently lower her back to the bed, crawling over her and pressing my lips to hers, kissing her slowly. It’s consuming, the kind of kiss that speaks every unsaid word between us. Her lips are soft and warm, moving against mine in perfect unison.

Every brush of her fingers across my skin feels like it carries the weight of every moment we’ve missed, every tear, every longing.

My hands slide down her sides, memorizing the familiar curves of her body. I can feel her trembling beneath my fingers, her breath hitching as I press kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and across her chest.

She arches into me, her skin warm and inviting, and I take my time, worshipping every inch of her. I want her to feel it, how much I love her, how much I’ve always loved her.

Her hands roam my body, urgent but tender, pulling me closer like she can’t get enough. Her touch is desperate, almost frantic, but I can feel the emotion behind it—the years of love, the months of hurt, all pouring out at once.

I press myself against her wet entrance until I slide in. She gasps softly, and I press my forehead to hers, lost in the way her body fits so perfectly against mine. Every movement is filled with intention, slow and deliberate, like we’re making promises to each other with every thrust. Her moans are soft in my ear, and a shudder runs through me.

She’s everything.

I never want this moment to end.

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