Page 37 of Craving Oblivion

Nash

Her lower lip trembled so much that her teeth clattered. She heaved a breath. “That you’ll leave me.”

Words tumbled out of her mouth, faster and faster, like rain spilling onto the eaves. “That you’ll realize what I’ve always known: I’m shy, a bookworm interested in making things, and you’re…you’re changing the world. Even before things fell apart, I worried you’d break up with me once you realized I don’t want to tour endlessly; that roots matter to me in a way they don’t to you because I never had a permanent home.”

She stayed still under my hands, but she wasn’t passive. She was exerting her will in her own way—quietly, as Aya did most things. She let me touch her because she knew it grounded me in the moment, but when she’d said her piece, she would ease away. And if I hadn’t convinced her by then, she would walk. Because Aya was strong, stronger than me. She had an inner will that kept her from collapsing under the weight of her emotions—most of the time. I envied that inner strength. I always had. It was one of the traits that drew me to her, that caused me to love her, however incompletely, all those years ago.

“If you break my heart, you’ll still be here, in this world,” she continued, her voice cracking. “But if you die... Jenna told me how close you were to overdosing. I can’t live in a world without you, Nash. That would be so much worse.” Her jaw trembled. “I’m not trying to force us to be together. I came back because I’ve missed Austin. It’s the last place I was happy.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “I wanted to come home.”

I pressed my thumb to her lower lip, taking in her eyes, the slope of her cheek, her precious chin, those soft lips. I tried to speak, but had to clear the emotion from my throat. “I was happiest when you were here. I believe we could be happy again. I don’t want you to be afraid.” I sighed. “I need to tell you, I wasn’t fair to you before.”

Her breath caressed my finger as her brows tugged lower.

“Listen, I’m still learning as I go, but this is important. You were my foundation. My rock. Lev was dead, Brad was angry, and my mother was absent—she ran. Right when I needed her most.”

Aya dropped her gaze, her face twisting. “You call him Brad now,” she observed.

Ah, right. Another truth she didn’t know. I hated that I had secrets from her. “Because he’s not my father.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Can’t say that’s sad news.”

I chuckled. “Me neither. Some of the best ever. Just…the timing sucked.”

She sighed. “That night?”

I nodded.

“It was a terrible one,” she said.

I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers. “I was caught in a situation I didn’t fully understand, caught between adults who should have supported me but either couldn’t or wouldn’t. That goes for Steve, too.”

“Steve?” she asked, brows tugged together in confusion.

“I’ll get there. For now, I just need you to understand that I didn’t plan to make you my lifeline, which, in turn, made me your anchor.”

“That’s not true,” she burst out. “Why do you think I felt weighed down by you?”

“I think you still do,” I told her. “You said it yourself: we don’t know what’s going to happen. None of us. I could die. So could you. Lev dove into the lake and never came out. But I promise you, I want to live. I want to be present. I won’t try to destroy myself ever again. Now matters a fuck-ton, because we have it. We have a chance to make it what we want it to be. I don’t want to squander that.”

Her eyes widened, searching. Her need to feel secure, to feel loved, was palpable around us, melding with my same needs. But this time, Aya was asking me to be strong. That wasn’t my typical role. I knew how to lock myself down, and how to drink and medicate myself into an uncaring state. But standing up, taking charge—not a position I was used to.

Nevertheless, I stood taller, squared my shoulders. For Aya, I’d do it. I’d be the man she craved, the man she deserved.

I hadn’t been that before, and it had cost me years of my life that I’d never get back, never remember clearly. No way in hell was I going to let my fear, my weakness destroy more of either of our lives. We both deserved more.

“We have now, and right now, I can tell you that I love you. I’ve loved you for years, pretty girl.”

She chuffed as she pressed her cheek more firmly into my palm. Her eyes told me she’d felt our crazy connection from the beginning. We’d been changed by those early messages—both of us—and for the better, at least in my case. Amazing how the world could have spun a different way, but it didn’t. And I had to wonder why.

I let the soft heat of her skin warm me, settle me.

“You saved me,” I told her. “That’s not hyperbole. I was drifting when I sent you that first message. Nothing mattered. But you... You gave me hope, a reason to keep striving. And when I let fear overwhelm me…” I swallowed, my teeth clenched. “After you left, I faded back to that thing I was before, and I hated myself because I’d lost you.”

I steadied myself, kept my gaze locked on hers. “I love you, Aya.”

I let those words linger. I wanted her to feel them, as I did.

“I love you with a passion I’ll never have for anyone else. I couldn’t; it’s you I see. It’s always been you, and it always will be.”

---