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After spending weeks on the application process to get a couple’s suite, Amos and I are finally living together.

The suites are single dorm rooms with an en suite bathroom.

The beds are wider than the standard dorm twin, which makes it much more comfortable for two people to sleep on.

Especially when Amos has a difficult time getting comfortable with only one whole arm.

My heart breaks for Amos even though I know his injury will not break him.

He is the strongest person I know.

He will get through this.

I will help him get through it.

Which is what I’ve been trying to do since we returned to The Valley.

I know it will take time for him to heal, for him to find his balance.

Since my skin actually healed the worst of the wound on his arm, Amos could start physical therapy with Olivia right away.

She was a student here in the before, a near graduate from the physical therapy program, which means she was just a couple months shy of earning her doctorate.

If it was anyone else, I don’t think Amos would be so welcoming of the help.

Olivia can take his bullshit though.

Actually, she doesn’t take any of it.

That’s exactly what Amos needs right now, someone to whip him in shape.

I walk with Amos to the athletic center most mornings, but we go our separate ways once we enter the gym.

I’ve taken to training with Kyle while Amos works with Olivia.

There have been some bad days and really bad days when Amos lets frustration take over.

He’s nearly demolished the rowing machine, which honestly is impressive considering he only has one whole arm.

I keep encouraging him, tell him how great he’s doing, but I know it’s not enough.

And it worries the hell out of me.

We’ve only been living together for a couple of days now, figuring out our space together as Amos navigates a new way of life.

Today was an especially tough day for Amos.

He had to rely on his commanders to take a mission at The Wall instead of going himself.

I know that was hard for him.

After slipping on my pajamas for the night, I peer into the bathroom since Amos has left the door halfway open.

He’s just standing there, staring at nothing.

I walk over and knock on the bathroom door.

“Is it okay if I come in?” I ask.

My voice shakes him out of whatever horrible place his mind had been dwelling in.

He looks up, locking his eyes with mine through the mirror above the sink.

Without saying a word, he nods, keeping his eyes on me.

I wrap my arms around him from behind, gently stroking the stump of his arm.

It’s incredible. My skin actually healed over his.

And what’s even wilder is that my skin transformed into the same tone of his skin.

I was worried my skin would look like patchwork, a pale white blob on his beautiful golden brown.

But it’s seamless.

Amos jerks away at my touch, making me step back.

Then he turns around, smashing his lips with mine.

I meet his urgency, wrapping my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss.

In a whirlwind, Amos detaches his mouth from mine but keeps his hand on my hip as he says, “I want to touch you.”

“Then touch me. I’m yours, Amos.”

When I attempt to resume our kiss, he steps away from me.

“I want to touch you with both of my hands.”

Oh .

I think to myself. But he sees the way my face falls, and I know I’ve unintentionally hurt his feelings.

“It’s okay, Amos. I know it’s going to take time to—”

“All the time in the world will still not bring back my hand. This is who I am now.” Amos sags into himself, making him look so small and timid.

I reach for him, but he interrupts me again, saying, “I just want to go to bed. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

I nod, letting him walk past me to the bed, where he collapses without giving me a kiss goodnight.

My heart clenches in pain.

I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me.

I know he’s going through more than just the physical healing after losing an arm.

But it still hurts that he walked away from me.

The next couple of weeks don’t get any better.

After securing our own suite, I thought Amos and I would grow closer.

Stronger. The opposite has occurred.

I only see Amos in our suite before the both of us crash into bed.

We don’t touch. We don’t talk.

We just sleep. It’s unbearable.

I had to leave the gym this morning when I saw Amos smiling at Olivia after he was able to use the rowing machine by himself without beating it up.

I should have run to him in that moment to offer him my support and my love.

I hated that he smiled for Olivia when all he’s given me these past few weeks is…

nothing.

Maybe I should do more for him.

Or maybe he needs more space.

But I know he doesn’t want either of those things.

He is not the kind of person who will allow his meat to be cut up for him.

He thrives on being independent and I will not take that away from him.

If he wanted space, then he would have told me.

Not push me away in silence.

As his girlfriend, I know I’m the one to see the worst of him.

Experience the worst of his depression.

It’s just too much for me.

I miss him. I miss his golden eyes on mine.

I say as much to Alison during our session and her only question is, “Have you talked to Amos about your feelings?”

“He dodges me every time I try to talk to him,” I say, throwing my head in my hands.

“He wouldn’t even give me the time of day when news came in from The Wall that they shut down The Colosseum. That the bunker, Novus Seclorum, had been located. And when Kyle came back with Lucas after raiding the place that took my humanity from me…Amos shut down even more. I needed him. I need him now. And he couldn’t give me a single minute of his time.”

I know Amos wanted to be on that mission.

A mission built on the information Jonah had given him.

Information he had to trust with Kyle and Lucas because he wasn’t physically able to travel to The Wall yet.

I know that kills him.

I know how much he wanted to be there.

To destroy the place that tried to destroy me.

Hell, I wanted to go.

I wanted to see it burn.

I wanted to see Doctore burn.

Turns out he wasn’t there.

Lucky fuck.

Alison sighs, trying her best to hide the sympathy behind her eyes.

“I know this is difficult. For both of you. Right now, communication is so important. If you both can’t express your feelings to each other, then you won’t be able to move on together. Would you like to use this space to open up together?”

“What, like couples therapy?” I ask.

Alison nods. “You wouldn’t be the first couple in here. But you need to understand that I don’t take sides. I will tell you both what I see and hear.”

I shake my head, staring down at my hands.

“I’d like to try one more thing before dragging him to this couch. I know he loves me. I know he wants us to be together. But there’s something he isn’t telling me. I think I can reach him. I just need time.”

“You understand that the time he needs could be more than you can handle, right?” Alison’s eyes meet mine as I look up.

All I can do is nod.

If I say anything, I’ll break.