Page 166 of Loving the Tormentor
I caress her hair, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry. You're so brave. You're the bravest woman I know. I've always known."
She pushes me away again, and I feel it. That oscillation she went through. Needing me, hating me. I'm hurting for her, apressure behind my eyes making me blink over and over. She steps back, and I feel the wetness breaching my eyelids.
"Peoplelived onwithout you. Do you think that was easy for us? Peach and Wren have a date for their wedding. Xi and Alex traveled all over the world. Ella has two dance studios now. Chris is starting his own law firm with his best friend. And all of them were there for me. Do you have any idea of the guilt I felt because they triedsohard, and I still felt empty inside?"
My friends told me about all of this earlier, but it doesn’t make it any less painful now to know that it all happened without me. There’s a hollowness in my heart for the years I missed and will never get back, but nothing compares to her pain.
"Nyx, I amsosorry," I croak.
Another step, and I'm following, but there's no strength in my body, my soul feeling the way I'm losing here. I fall to my knees at her feet, and it's an out-of-body experience when I see myself wrapping my arms around her hips, pressing my forehead to her stomach.
"Baby, please…"
"Achilles—"
"You don’tneedme. You survived on your own, and I had no doubt you would.Needingme isn't even the question. But do you choose me?"
Her hand caresses my hair, and I look up.
"Choose me. I'm begging you, let me back in. If not now, one day. I'll wait. I'll wait as long as you need. I'lllivewith the hope that someday you'll take me back. I'm a dreamer, I'll keep on dreaming."
I put her ring on my pinky finger and hug her again. "I'll wait," I insist, my heart racing. "How long do you want? A month? A year? Until Lyra asks about her dad? Tell me. I'll give you ten years if you need, baby. But I'll always be there."
I can feel her heartbeat too, and the familiarity brings me strength.
"Your heart is racing," I murmur. "Presto."
"You don't know my heart," she rasps.
"Mon trésor." I pull her closer, with more violence than I should use. "I know it like the back of my hand. I wrote an entire concerto to the different rhythms of your heartbeat."
"Achilles—"
"It used to always be high because you ran on anxiety." I kiss her lower stomach gently. "Your resting heartbeat during the day ismoderato. Between 98 and 112 BPM. During sex, you rise toallegro.When I scare you, you can reachpresto.As if you're sprinting."
From my position on my knees, I dig my gaze into hers, reaching for her soul.
"But when you rest next to me, when we spend time together, I feel the shift.Adagio. Calm, comforted, safe. That's what I want to bring you. That'sallI want for you."
I finally feel it. Her walls are coming down, her more vulnerable side letting me in.
"Tell me," I whisper, afraid that my deep voice will startle her out of the moment. "Can you be a dreamer for me again?"
The silence stretches. My breathing stops. My life hangs in the air.
Finally, she gives me the slightest nod, and I grab the olive branch with all my might. Hope blooms in my chest as I stand, grabbing her by the waist and falling on the bed. I cage her in, keeping her under me.
I blink at her, struggling to keep the emotions at bay. I drop my lips to her cheek, and attack her with kisses again only to hide the fact that I can feel tears coming to my eyes. One, two, three…She’s laughing, and I can’t stop, bathing in the pureness of the sound.
"Oh my God." She giggles. "You’re tickling me, stop!"
"Oh, no. You’re stuck, baby. Prisoner of my kisses." I fake a threatening voice. "Forever. You want free?"
"Yes!"
"Then, marry me." I kiss her again, dropping to her neck to make the tickling worse.
"Achilles!" she laughs. "Stop!”
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