Page 117 of Atlas
I ignore the comment. “Tessa tried to bring you tea earlier. I sent her away.”
She smiles faintly. “You’re screening my visitors?”
“Damn right I am. You get tired fast. Too fast.” My jaw clenches. “And if one more person tries to hug you or ask you how you feel,I’ll lose what’s left of my mind.”
Her eyes open, meeting mine. “You’re in pain too.”
“So?”
“So, lie down. Next to me. Just for a bit.”
I hesitate. My body’s screaming, but I don’t want to risk jostling her, hurting her by accident.
She sees it in my expression and pats the mattress beside her. “Please, Atlas.”
That’s all it takes.
I lie beside her carefully, and she shifts just enough to press her cheek to my chest, curling into me like she belongs there. And God help me, she does.
I exhale, wincing as pain shoots through my ribs, but it’s worth it just to feel her breathing steady against me.
Her voice is a breath in the dark. “You didn’t stop looking for me.”
“Never.”
“Even when you were hurt.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “Even if I was on my death bed.” Silence falls between us, but it’s the kind that soothes. “I love you,” I add, holding my breath. The light sound of her snores fills the room, and I grin. “Of course, you’re asleep,” I whisper out loud.
Anita
Atlas has gone into full protection mode. No one gets in to see Rue, not without going through him first. So, when Tom suggests pulling him aside to talk about the upcoming hearing, I know exactly what he’s doing.
And I let him.
Because I need this chance.
I’m not even sure if Rue wants to see me. After everything that’s happened, after everything Damien’s done, I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. But I have to try. I need to at least attempt to repair the damage, or I’ll never be able to move forward.
I wait in the bathroom, heart pounding. The second I hear Atlas’s voice agreeing to head to church with Tom, I slip out, moving quickly and quietly into his bedroom.
I close the door behind me, and when I turn, she’s awake.
Rue is staring at me from the bed, pale and still, like she’s not sure if I’m real.
I offer a weak smile, my throat dry. “Hey,” I say gently. “How are you?”
I perch on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jar her. Up close, the bruises on her neck look darker, angrier. Guilt twists in my stomach.
“I’m so sorry you got dragged into all of this,” I say quietly. “Damien . . . the custody fight . . . none of it should’ve touched you.”
Rue’s mouth tugs into the ghost of a smile. “Kasey’s the one who poked the bear, Anita. Don’t take all the credit.”
A breathy laugh slips out of me, surprised and shaky. Then my face sobers. “There’s something else.”
She waits.
“I know I’ve said this all before, but I’ve had time to think it over. To understand my actions. The night I kissed Atlas . . . I was a mess. I didn’t even see it then, but I was clinging to him because he felt familiar. Safe. A habit I couldn’t kick.” I wet my lips, shame burning. “I told myself it was real, but it wasn’t. It was me being lost and selfish, and it hurt you.”
