Page 89 of A Love That Broke Us
He lets out a breath through his nose. “Babe…”
But he doesn’t stop me.
Once hard, I guide him to my entrance and sink down slowly, letting a soft moan escape my throat as he fills me. My hands brace on his chest, and I move—slow at first, rocking my hips back and forth. His hands slide up to my thighs, holding them lightly, but he’s not taking control.
He lets me do the work.
His eyes are half-lidded, watching me, but there’s a haze to them. It’s like he’s here, but not fully. His jaw clenches, like he’s trying to focus, trying to feel it the way he normally would, but something’s missing. He’s disconnected.
I keep going. I grind down on him, finding the friction, even as my heart aches. It’s good. It still feels good. But it’s different—detached, quiet.
After a few minutes, I slow, leaning forward until my chest is against his. “You okay?” I whisper into his ear.
He nods, slow. “Yeah. Just tired. You feel incredible, baby.”
I nod against his neck, biting my lip, and press a kiss to his jaw. I keep rocking my hips, gently, coaxing what I can from him. His breathing deepens, his hands squeeze my thighs once, and eventually, he groans low in his throat and finishes—more from the motion than the moment, or me.
His arms wrap around me after, pulling me down onto his chest. “I love you,” he murmurs.
I swallow down the lump forming in my throat. “I love you too.”
I can’t help the tiny crack forming in my chest, because for the first time, I felt like I was loving him alone.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand and let out a sigh—12:03.
Happy New Year.
We pullup to my childhood home, and Jensen shifts the car into park. The yard is dead from winter, but still well-kept, leaves cleared and weeds pulled. Everything looks maintained, just waiting for spring to bring it back to life. Already, it’s a vast improvement from the last time I was here.
Jensen’s hand finds my thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I turn to meet his gaze. He seems different today. Better. More like himself, happy and focused. There’s a light in his eyes again, bright and clear.
“You sure you don’t want me to come up with you?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be okay,” I say nodding, like hearing myself say the words will make me believe them.
“Alright. Well, I’ll wait here until you’re inside. I’ll stay close. Just call or text when you’re ready for me to come back.”
I nod again, more firmly this time. “Okay…”
My fingers fumble with the door handle. I pause, glancing back at Jensen. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
“He wants to see you. He reached out to Michael. He wants to see you,” he says, steady and sure.
“Alright,” I say softly, my pulse quickening.
He leans forward, kissing me fervently, like he’s trying to kiss the fear right out of me.
Without another thought, I open the door, and before I know it I’m standing on the porch of my dad’s house. My house. My mother's house.
I swallow hard, my fingers trembling. I take a deep breath and lift my hand to knock, my heart pounding so hard it echoes in my ears. Nerves crawl up my throat with every passing second.
The door swings open, my dad’s expression shifting in an instant—shock melting into something soft. A ghost of a smile curves his lips, his eyes lighting up, and just as quickly, filling with tears.
“Alley girl.” His voice cracks as the words leave his mouth, and his fingers fly to the bridge of his nose, pinching it as his eyes squeeze shut. He lets out an audible cry.
And then—he breaks. Right in front of me.
A love so deep bursts free from the cell I’ve kept it locked in for far too long. The space that’s kept me safe for a decade. Kept me from shattering, from getting hurt. Every emotion hits me all at once, but it feels like a hug. And somehow, the storm inside me calms, warmth radiating through every inch of my soul.
