Page 152 of A Love That Saved Us

To love each other anyway.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

JENSEN

I crossthe kitchen of our apartment into the living room, two coffees in hand. Alley reaches for hers before I’m even close, and I pass her the steaming mug.

“Thanks, babe.” She’s curled up in a chair, blanket draped over her legs like she has no plans of moving.

I drop onto the couch across from her, stretch out a leg, and sink back.

My eyes lock on her. Her hair’s piled on top of her head, messy in that sexy way that makes me want to pull it down. No bra. Glasses sliding a little down her nose. Drowning in one of my old T-shirts. She’s been sleeping in them for years, but right now it hits me different—like she’s claiming me every night she wears one. It’s hot and sweet and cute, and God, she’s beautiful.

A smile grazes her mouth as she takes a sip. She cups the mug in both hands, peeking at me over the rim. “Do you ever wonder how many people Matt’s had sex with on this couch? And then we did it here last night?” She grimaces. “Kinda gross.”

A chuckle rumbles out of me, low and easy. She’s so fucking cool. “Dozens, no doubt. Thanks for that image.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “It crossed my mind last night, but you made me forget about it real quick.”

I lift my brows. “I’m down for round two if you are.”

She grins, eyes shining with amusement. “Maybe later.” She sips again, hiding the curve of her smile behind the mug.

Silence settles between us, easy and comfortable, the kind that’s rare and feels like a luxury. Just the morning, coffee, and her.

Then she breaks it. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Always,” I answer without a beat.

Her fingers toy with the rim of her mug. “What was it like… for you? That night I left and went to Chicago? When you were messed up and asked for your backpack? What was going through your head?”

I still, drawing in a breath and exhaling hard. My stomach knots just thinking about it. “That’s heavy for a coffee chat, babe.”

Her eyes drop to her mug, her voice soft. “I know. Sorry.” She lifts her gaze back to mine. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too much. Especially if it’s triggering. I just… I’ve never asked my dad questions like that, and some of it came up in hypnotherapy. Stuff tied to him. To you. And I think I just need to understand. Not the disease. I get that. But you. What it felt like inside your head in that moment.”

I stare at her for several seconds, gathering my thoughts. “It’s hard to explain.” I rub a hand over my face. “Part of me knew exactly what I wanted.You.” A soft smile flickers, then fades as guilt cuts through. “And the other part knew what I didn’t want. But it’s like… your body isn’t yours anymore. Like someone else is pulling the strings.” I swallow, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “Watching you pack—fuck, that hurt. I hated seeing you cry. Hated knowing I did that. And I hated myself even more.”

My throat swells as I keep going. “But then it was like a switch flipped. Like,oh, shit,she took my lifeline. The thing that keeps me breathing. And suddenly nothing else mattered. Watching you leave fucking killed me, but when you shoved that backpack into my arms…” I blow out a breath. “It was like drowning and being thrown a life jacket. Pure relief. Even while another part of me was screaming, begging me to fight it. Like watching a demon take over my body while I just stood there.”

She swipes at her cheek as a tear falls, then sets her mug down and crawls into my lap. I set mine aside too, my hands finding her ass, fingers brushing soft against her skin.

Her touch comes gentle on my cheek, her gaze burning through me. “Never again,” she whispers.

“Never again, baby.”

Her lips crush against mine, and I drink her in, letting her fuel me from the outside in. She’s my air. My light. My everything.

I kiss her harder, pouring every ounce of me into it, a vow without words:you’re the only fucking thing that matters.

Because she is.

She’s my forever.

My knuckles rapagainst Matt’s bedroom door for the second time. I’ve been calling out for him ever since I stepped off the elevator. A muffledI’m comingdrifts from the other side, and seconds later the door swings open, revealing a shirtless Matt. His joggers hang low, and his hair’s a mess—like multiple hands have been through it in the past couple hours.

“Hey, man. Sorry, I must’ve slept in.” His voice is gruff and thick with sleep as he presses a palm to his eye and rubs.

It’s fucking noon.