Page 228 of Branded
The tension left me.
“Okay, sugarpie.”
Her lips curved, eyes closing, and she snuggled into me. “It’s getting better. I’m getting better.”
But she hadn’t shared all the demons.
And though I was trying to be patient, though I understood she needed to come to terms with her past on her own timeline—and I was so fucking proud that she was working so hard on doing it over the last month—in these moments, it was killing me.
She’d given enough that I knew her past was heavy.
Heavy enough for me to want to shoulder its weight.
But how could I if she didn’t give me the rest?
And how could I ask if she wasn’t ready?
And how could I just fall asleep without knowing for sure she was okay?
And how?—
She fell asleep, soft, slow breaths puffing on my throat, and I knew that answered one of my questions, at least for the moment.
How to fall asleep?
After she was safely ensconced in her dreams.
Thirty-Two
Beth
I clicked off the TV, my skin itching.
The Breakers had won again.
The playoffs were beginning in just days.
And…he wasn’t sleeping.
Raph wasn’t sleeping.
He was playing well, consistent and solid, like always. But with none of the flair and creativity and drive that he’d had for the entirety of the regular season.
Minus the last weeks.
Because that had been slowly drying up.
Because he wasn’t sleeping.
He was worried about me. I knew that. And I had the means to solve it.
I needed to tell him.
I had needed to tell him for the last months.
But I’d been putting it off because…well, for all the reasons I had. All of which Marin had helped me understand weren’t particularly valid. They were excuses and fears and ways for me to hold tight to those barriers I’d erected.
Because Raph wasn’t like them.
