Page 222 of Branded
Sitting there in silence, trying to find the right way to get started, to explain. But how did I begin to unpack the decades of demons and the castle I’d built and how it had lasted for years but was threatening to crumple under my blossoming hope?
How did I explain that I was certain I was going to ruin my relationship with Raph? Be too broken, impossible to fix, the missing pieces too insurmountable?
How did I admit to only allowing myself to be with Raph because I’d initially convinced myself that I was fixing him, but when in actuality, it felt very much the opposite?
How did I?—
So much to unpack.
And that was without even dredging up the worst of it.
What I worried most about was telling Raph, telling anyone. Because…the one time I had talked about it?—
I shuddered, and it rippled through my sore muscles, made my head throb anew.
I’d been so, so tense…and then Marin had asked me an innocuous question. I didn’t even remember what it was, just that it had seemed to pop the cork on my words and then we were talking.
And I was talking.
Mostly about the present, explaining about the babies and Pru and Marcel. Talking about the date with Raph and how it was the first time in as long as I could remember that I wanted to stop hiding—and wanted it intensely enough to be willing to share the bad stuff that might turn him from me.
But—
Maybe the urge to share came now because Raph wouldn’t turn from me.
Because he’d traveled his own tough path and I hadn’t cut ties.
Of course, his shitty childhood wasn’t his own fault, not like mine?—
“Want to talk about it?”
Warm arms around my middle, a head resting gently on my shoulder. I leaned to the side and glanced up at Raph. My feet were in his hot tub, and he’d been at practice. A week since that date. A week since hope had blossomed.
Work and hockey games. Raph traveling for his, me hanging at my place and his for mine.
No more vertigo.
Lots of water—thanks to the calendar reminders Raph had set in my phone for me.
Loose clothes.
A growing belly.
And…safe and settled and myself. Raph’s smiles and his laughter and his gentle hands. Raph’s mouth and the glorious things it could do.
Raph’s—
Just Raph.
So when I said, “No, not today, I think,” it wasn’t a surprise that his arms just tightened slightly, his chin returned to rest back on my shoulder, and he dipped his feet into the hot tub, thighs bracketing mine.
And when I said, “Tell me about Smitty’s newest attempt at matchmaking,” he obliged the change in topic.
Soon the past was gone—not buried, no longer encased in concrete…but its hooks weren’t piercing me quite so deeply, those remaining demons peeking their heads out their doors perhaps not quite so terrifying.
Soon we were both laughing about Smitty’s antics and Cas’s protests and the way both had the locker room loose and relaxed and happy…and a betting pool had begun on how long it would take for Cas to fall.
The bets ranged from days to months.
