Page 39 of A Breath of Life
Heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway.
I bolted upright and craned my head to listen. “Kitty, shh. I hear something.”
“See?”
A jangle of keys. The scrape of a lock.
“Oh my god.” I bounced off the couch at the same instant the apartment door opened, and Diem stumbled through, Echo trailing on her leash behind him.
“Kitty, we are having a conversation later about your witchiness. For real this time. He’s back. I love you. I gotta go.” I dropped the phone on the couch and launched at Diem, who had barely crossed the threshold, let alone closed the door.
My relief at seeing him alive and well was too overwhelming and all-consuming to ignore. I slammed into him with such force that he lost his balance and crashed into the doorframe with anoofand a groan that seemed to suggest I’d hurt him, but that wasn’t possible. This was Brick Wall Diem. My Diem.
He dropped Echo’s leash on impact, and we nearly tumbled into the hallway, but he caught his balance and steadied us in time, still making odd, strangled noises in his throat.
Diem tried to speak but groaned instead as I smothered him in a crushing hug, burying my face in his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so fucking sorry. I didn’t know you were that mad. I was worried sick. I thought you had left me forever and ever. I couldn’t find you. I looked everywhere. Then, I thought you were dead or arrested, but Kitty said you weren’t, and I trust her. We can throw away the card. I’ll do the boring jobs that come in until you think I’m ready for the sneaky stuff. I won’t complain ever again. I promise. Please don’t be angry anymore.”
I tried and failed to scale him like a tree, wanting to cling, to be held, needing to fuse myself to his oversized body, but he fumbled my weight and set me on my feet instead with a strangled grunt. “Tallus, give me—”
“Hold me. Pick me up. Please, D.” And I absolutely whined andwas not ashamed.
Diem didn’t object and wrapped his arms fully around me, dragging me closer and crushing my ribs so I could hardly take a full breath, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need oxygen. I needed him. This. My heart raced, but as his scent infiltrated my brain, it calmed me. A hint of alcohol and cigarette smoke clung to his clothing, but I didn’t care. Diem might always struggle with those addictions, but he was mine, flaws and all, and he was home.
“Why aren’t you picking me up?”
“I can’t.” Diem hunched, bringing himself to my level and burying his face in the crook of my neck as he inhaled. He kissed my temple and the shell of my ear before whispering, “I love you. I love you so fucking much,” over and over and over.
Like a prayer.
Like a promise.
It wasn’t like Diem to express his feelings so openly and without reservation. Not in the bright light of day. Not when we weren’t in the act of making love and he couldn’t help it. My heart swelled. After seventeen straight hours of high panic and tearing through the city on a quest to locate him, while finally surrounded by Diem’s bulk and immersed in his scent and love, I fell apart.
Silent tears overflowed and ran down my cheeks. My body succumbed to exhaustion and relief, and if Diem’s grip had been looser, I would have crumpled to the floor.
Thankfully, he didn’t let go, and I got the sense he needed this hug as much as I did. We were okay. It was a bump in the road. No one was angry anymore.
Several minutes passed before the drag of Echo’s leash registered. The poor dog paced and whined, nudging Diem’s leg and doing all she could to force herself between us to gain our attention.
Reluctantly, I pulled back and glanced at the dog. Echo’s ears were plastered to her head. Her tail didn’t wag, and her eyes, normally cheery and bright, stared warily at Diem with an expression I didn’t recognize.
“Is she okay?”
“Probably hungry. I’ll get you some food, baby girl.” Diem bent awkwardly to unclasp the leash from her collar.
His stiff movements and subsequent grunt of discomfort caught my attention. All I’d dismissed when Diem walked in the door registered as I truly looked at him for the first time.
“Holy shit.” I staggered back a step, eyes widening as I took him in. “Diem, you’re hurt. What the hell happened to you?”
His face was a medley of bruises, and much of it swollen. Clotted blood crusted the edges of his nostrils, and his nose was nearly twice its normal size. A thin cut shone purple on his swollen bottom lip. It seeped a pinkish, clear fluid, as if it had only recently stopped bleeding. Pain strained the skin next to his matching black eyes, but he wouldn’t look at me. Not directly. He focused on a spot near my shoulder.
“Ran into some trouble,” he mumbled, shuffling into the apartment like he’d been hit by a truck. He shut the door and secured both the dead bolt and chain before scrutinizing the wooden surface as though unsatisfied.
“Christ, Diem. Look at me.” Turning him, I took his face between my palms and examined the injuries. Still, he avoided my gaze. “Were you in a fight? Did you get hit by a car?”
He sucked in a breath as I poked and prodded the worsening bruises.
He didn’t respond.
