Page 111 of Every Thought Taken

True as that may be, I should have said something. Told her I needed room to breathe and think and evacuate the fury. In her compact apartment, she would have moved to another room while I exercised the aggression from my system. Then she would have filled the gaps with her love and light and spirit.

I bolt up from the couch and yank my phone from my pocket. Then I meet my sister’s blues and gift her a half smile. “Thanks, Ales.” I flip the phone over in my hand again and again. “For everything.”

The corners of her eyes soften. “You never have to ask. Love you, A.”

I pad over to the bench near the door, slip on my shoes and jacket, then give my sister and her boyfriend a wave. “Love you, too.”

And then I’m out the door, jogging down the stairs and racing down the road. Toward my heart. Toward my future. Toward my North.

CHAPTER61

HELENA

Heat from the fireplace licks my skin, but the warmth doesn’t seep in. It doesn’t reach the chill deep in my bones. A tremor I’ve felt since the moment Anderson left tonight.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message. Seeing as it’s past one in the morning and my do not disturb is on, whoever it is must be on my favorites list. Probably Lessa checking on me since Anderson is at her place.

With a groan, I reach for the phone on the coffee table, tap the screen, and see the notification. But it isn’t from Lessa. No, it’s from Anderson.

Anderson

Still up?

I stare at the screen a moment and contemplate whether or not I should respond. I get that he needed to clear his head, but leaving me like he did… what if he does that every time we have a run-in with his parents? What if he does that every time something stirs up bad memories?

I love him and would do anything to prove my love, but I am not alright with him jumping ship every time the sea gets rocky. That is not how couples handle unpleasant or horrendous situations. We jump in feet first, hand in hand, and kick until we both surface.

Helena

Yes.

Before I take my next breath, a soft knock echoes through the living room.

He’s here?

Finagling the blanket around my shoulders, I pick up Smoky from my lap and hold her to my chest as I shuffle in my fuzzy socks toward the door, pushing up on my toes and peeking out the peephole to see if itisAnderson or some random vagrant on my doorstep.

His dark-blond hair may be wind whipped, shadows may block half his profile, but I’d recognize this man anywhere. Anderson will never besomeguy. After almost a decade apart, the minute I saw him outside my store, I knew it was him. It isn’t about looks or scars or mannerisms. No, it’s so much more.

My soul vibrates when he is near. Stirs to life. Breathes deeper and sighs with relief. Because my soul calls out to his, just as his calls out to mine.

I unbolt the lock, twist the doorknob, and crack open the door. Smoky mewls at the sight of him.Traitor.

“Sorry for my behavior earlier.” He rubs the back of his neck as he screws up his lips in a remorseful smile. “May I come in?”

Frozen in the doorway, I remain tight lipped. I don’t want him to suffer or think I don’t care. But he should know this is not okay. He can’t bolt every time things get heavy. He can’t cast me aside every time he needs space to think. He can’t run away, expecting me to wait for his return, whenever that may be. His actions have consequences. And tonight, his actions hurt.

Without a word, I open the door wider and step aside. He steps past me, shucks his jacket and toes off his shoes as I close the door, then hauls me to his chest. Smoky cries between us. Anderson relaxes his hold enough to let her hop down, then he hugs the air from my lungs.

“I fucked up,” he mumbles with his lips on my hair. “I fucked up bad and I’m so damn sorry.”

Wiggling my arms free, I step back, open my arms, wrap us both in the blanket, and breathe him in. Though his clothes are chilled from the crisp air outside, the warmth I sought from the fire finally hits my bones while in his arms.

Anderson made an impulsive decision in a moment of distress. An instinctual action I have no right to fault him for. He chose flight over fight, something he has done most of his life.

But if he wants to make changes, if he wants to come home, he needs to take a stand. He needs to choose to fight. AndIneed to remind him I will always fight alongside him.

I choose him. I will always choose him. Even when it hurts.

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