Page 114 of Our Long Days
“I don’t, though. That’s the thing. You felt obligated to hire me.” My eyes widen in horror. “I’m practically living here—do you recall asking me to move in? No. I’ve bulldozed my way into your life. We’ve done everything backward. Oh god, I got a tattoo dedicated to you.”
My chest aches. Stomach cramps. Head spins.
“Baby, stop for a second and breathe.” Worry swirls in his gaze, but he doesn’t reach for me. Good. One touch, and I’ll crumble.
“I can’t,” I croak, digging my palms into my tummy. “You shouldn’t want to tie yourself to a woman who can’t trust herself to complete the simplest of tasks. How can you trust me with a future you’ve fought to protect?”
“There was no future until you!” he shouts.
I jump, and he inhales deeply.
“Florence, I’ve never trusted anyone the way I do you. My future was drab. Lifeless. And when you accepted me as I am, you showed me a new one. A dream.”
“What about my future? This is the house you built, your business, your life.” I suck in a breath. “Where do I fit in?”
Then, he’s there. Despite his harsh exterior, his voice is gentle, touch soft as he cups my cheek. “With me. This is where you fit. Your feelings are valid, and while I love everything about you, I hate your brain right now for making you think otherwise.” His hand shakes. “Tell me how to fix this.”
I slip out of his hold, and he lets me, his face sullen. “That’s it, Dex—it’s not for you to fix. I want to be sad, to be angry. Youknew how much finding my independence meant to me, and you did the exact opposite. Once again, you made the decision for me, the same way you did when you pushed me away after the accident at the job site. If I turn to you every time life gets tough, how can I be strong enough when you need me?”
“You’re the strongest person I know, Florence.” He goes to step toward me, but I shake my head. His shoulder slump in defeat. I hate hurting him, but the pain in my chest outweighs it.
“You say you love me?”
His eyes flare. “Without question.”
Slowly, I back toward the open door. Panic flares in his expression, but if I stay in this room for a second longer, I’ll implode with the heaviness of my emotions. This is my tipping point, and I don’t want him to watch me fall.
“Then stop trying to fix me, Dex.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
dexter
Standingon the sidelines while someone you love hurts is a new pain, especially when you had a hand in it.
When Florence walked out of the office, panic took root. I’d screwed up. Again. And this time, nothing I said or did was going to repair the damage.
Stop trying to fix me, Dex.
My actions and incurable need to protect her made her believe there was something to fix. There’s nothing broken about Florence. I’d wanted to run after her, beg and convince her not to leave me. I wanted her wrath, for her to shout and scream at me, because that’s what I deserved.
Nothing.
She tucked herself away in the A-frame for the rest of the day. I had one-hundred and one tasks to complete. Instead, my eyes went bleary from staring through the window all afternoon, waiting for her to appear with her bags packed.
Florence is right. I’d acted exactly like her brothers. It didn’t matter what I said; her mind was made up. I’d fucked up, so blinded by my obstinate need to protect her. Itwould be easy for me to hide in my workshop, lick my wounds, and wait for the inevitable.
That was the old Dex.
She’d taught me so much; the biggest lesson: ask for help.
So, I climbed into my truck and headed to the person I’d always turned to, even when my stubborn nature begged me not to. In hindsight, going to Patrick to discuss relationship issues with his sister might be peculiar.
Too late, because the second I pull up outside his house, he’s opening the front door.
“Hey,” he greets. “This is a surprise. Did we have plans?”
“Nah.” I traipse past him and pause in the entryway. “I need some advice.”
