Page 64 of Crying Shame
She held me. Her story hadn’t changed how I felt. She was the love of my life, and time was on our side.
29
Clarissa
My body was warm, and it was like I was inside an unusual cocoon where I felt absolutely safe. Therapy wasn’t a horrible idea.
I opened my eyes and yawned. The idea played in my mind as smart. I’d liked talking to the counselors at the shelter. And I hated hurting Sam and Elon.
Elon held me, and his eyes were half-open. I closed mine to let myself hold on to this moment. I asked, “Did I sleep?”
He kissed my forehead. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”
Nothing was ever okay. “I’m still shocked I told you almost everything.”
He pressed his hand over mine. “I’m happy to understand, though if you have another secret I should know...”
“When I first arrived, I thought I would make sure you and Sam bonded as family as you could protect him better than me.”
“I’ll watch him with my life.”
“I thought eventually I’d disappear, and it would just be you two.”
“I want you here forever.”
“That’s too much.” I ached for him in a way I couldn't explain. “We can continue to be friends with benefits as I can’t love you or anyone. I’m far too… broken. I only told you what happened to me so you’d believe my words now.”
I knew I was not Norouzi material—and it wasn’t because of the bruises I’d sported for weeks.
He squeezed my palm. “You’re harder on yourself than I am on myself, and I thought I was great at blaming myself for everything.”
My lips quirked upward. I’d once broken through his sullen teenage angst the day he first kissed me. We’d been so different then. “You never did anything wrong.”
“What about breaking up with you? That was wrong.”
“I needed to stop believing in fairy tales.”
“I wish you’d blame me.”
“I don’t.”
His eyes narrowed, and he came closer, letting his hand rest on my hip. “I wanted to tell you—”
My heart raced, and I closed my eyes. Telling me anything was bad news. I braced for impact. “It’s okay if you want me to move out,” I interrupted.
He held me tight. “No. I want you. I’ll take whatever status you can handle as long as you stay.”
This wasn’t how I’d ever imagined him—calm and honest about what he wanted. “Why?”
“I’m waiting for you.”
It seemed as though thunder rumbled inside my soul. I went up and kissed him, not on the cheek or forehead—on the lips. He’d been the only man I’d ever wanted to kiss or do anything with.
He was mysterious and interesting. In the past, as we'd grown closer, I’d imagined him as my hero.
His kiss still made the old dreams seem palatable and real. But he was more than my hero. He was sweet.
I needed to keep our relationship as just sex. I stroked his cock, and he grew hard.
