Page 33 of Infinite
He may think that, but there’s no way he could carry this load. It’s far too heavy. Ten men couldn’t even lift the weight that lives inside me. I may be crushed, but I don’t have to do it to him too.
“And what if you crumble under the weight of my grief?”
“Then you’ll have to help me back up. That’s how this works. When you love someone, you shoulder what they can’t and you are there to pick them up when they need it.”
The first tear in over a week fills my vision. I picture this man I love, hunched over as he tries to lift me. I see it so clearly as his blue eyes watch me, begging for me to give just a piece over to him. He would struggle, but he would never give up. He’d take the broken bones and strain just to give me an inch.
I don’t deserve his efforts.
Quinn moves his hand up, brushing away the bead of moisture. “Trust me not to let you down.”
A small hiccup releases from my throat. I’m trying so hard to hold it back because I’m afraid of what will happen if I let even a drop of the flood free.
Some say grief washes over us like a wave, but it’s more akin to a tsunami. It comes with enough force to knock down buildings. The tide rises, and you can’t do anything but hold on to something on higher ground. Then the water surges to my neck, and I thought maybe that was as high as it would go. I tried treading water, kicking, keeping my head back, but when the water receded, I realized I had been swept out into the sea.
Quinn has managed to buoy me just long enough for me to take a gasp of air. He did it the day we found him. I breathed that day.
I drew the next breath when he kissed me and told me he loved me.
Right now, he has me back up, my head is fully out and there’s almost this idea that the shore is much closer.
“It’s not you that I don’t trust,” I confess. “I worry that you won’t be able to handle it, and if I unload any of it, then who will pick it back up when you leave?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving.”
“I’m not going to get better.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because this . . . this kind of hurt? It doesn’t go away. I will never be the same again. Don’t you get it? I’m barely breathing.”
Quinn lifts me so that I’m standing in front of him. His arms are tight around my back and then he crushes his lips to mine. He kisses me so hard that I’m forced to hold on to him so I don’t fall. I try to fight off the heat that builds. I don’t want to melt, but Quinn doesn’t give me a chance. Between the surprise of his attack and the passion he’s exuding, I don’t have any resistance.
My fingers delve into his hair, holding his head to me.
His lips move down to my neck. “That’s it,fragolina, feel me.”
Then his lips are over mine again, his tongue pushing into my mouth. His fingers press into my spine, fusing me to his chest. The rapid pace of my heart tingles in my chest as though I’ve been shocked.
Quinn acts like a defibrillator, and the current coursing through me causes me to gasp.
“Quinn, stop,” I say as I try to push away.
“No,” he practically roars and then he moves me to the window, my back hits the cold glass, and his body presses flush against mine, so warm in contrast. “Don’t pull away. I’ll give you the breath you need. I’ll warm you. I’ll do whatever it takes, just let me. Let me be your heart.”
He is my heart.
He’s my everything.
He’s the only reason I’m breathing right now, and he’s also the one thing I can’t let in if I have any hope of making it through this.
I re-erect the walls he tore down for that brief time and then turn my head so he can’t kiss me again. “Please, stop.”
Quinn takes a step back, hiding his hurt a fraction too late to keep it from me. Then he moves closer, but he doesn’t touch me. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, I really am.” I hate myself, once again. He was doing everything right and then I realized how far he got. “I need time.”
“Time to push me away more?”
