Page 16

CHAPTER 16

EMILY

I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror, feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m not sure what it is. Relief, maybe? Like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Like for the first time in a long time, I can finally catch the breath that’s been evading me for so long.

My hair is a mess, the curls I hot ironed earlier this evening nothing but a long-forgotten memory. And after using a spicy men’s face wash that left my skin tingling to the point of borderline burning, my makeup is all but gone save for some shadowing under my eyes from my mascara. And my beautiful red dress has been replaced by a hockey jersey that engulfs me but is strangely comforting. But as I look at myself in the mirror, I see a woman I haven’t seen in what feels like forever, and I can breathe.

Cautiously, I step out of the bathroom, pausing in the doorway at the sight of Dallas sitting on the bench at the foot of his huge bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stares out at the view of the city, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts.

My God, the man is unfairly attractive.

“There she is.” That dimpled grin blooms across his face when he looks up, his eyes doing a slow, sweeping assessment of me wearing his jersey and nothing else. He stands, raking his fingers through his hair which is now a floppy, haphazard mess, and he huffs a hard exhale. “Damn, girl… I will never get tired of the sight of you in my jersey.”

With a shy smile, I tug on the hem of the jersey, flushing from his words and the look in his eyes as I walk tentatively toward him.

“Feel better?” His voice is soft and low, and it curls around me like a warm hug.

I nod, peering up at him.

Taking my hand, Dallas walks me back out into the loft, and I’m taken aback to see a fire crackling in the hearth, a blanket and a stack of throw cushions set up right in front of the fireplace, complete with an indoor picnic of wine, beer, and what I assume is Dallas’s idea of a charcuterie board which is really just various bowls filled with Cheetos, Skittles, peanut M I know my life will never be the same. And that’s probably the saddest thing about all of this… no matter what, my life will never be what it was before.”

I look down to see Dallas staring into the fire, a pensive look in his eyes, that same crease etched between his eyebrows. He almost looks angry. And if it weren’t for his thumb tracing deft circles over my knee, I’d assume it was me he was pissed at.

“So, that’s it…” I say, nervously filling the void.

Dallas tears his gaze away from the fire, looking up at me.

I shrug again, offering a sad smile. “My body was destroyed. Ravaged by treatment, burned from radiation, and then ruined with surgery. I had a reconstruction, but I have… no nipples, and so many horrible scars. Inside and out.” I tug at a lock of my hair. “And this is as much as my hair has grown in just over a year. Before cancer it was so long and pretty.” I frown at the memory, taking another conciliatory sip of wine, knowing my hair will never be what it was. “My feet hurt almost all the time because I have chronic neuropathy from the chemo.

“Oh, and I’m in medical menopause. And because of the hormone therapy, I had to freeze my eggs in case I can never conceive naturally. I’m basically a sixty-five-year-old woman in a thirty-five-year old’s slightly mangled body.”

Dallas says nothing, just stares at me with this appraising look in his eyes.

“But I’m alive.” I force a smile, despite the tears stinging my eyes. “Sometimes I feel bad… selfish for feeling sorry for myself, because I know I’m lucky to be alive. It could’ve been a lot worse. I could not be here. But sometimes it’s just a lot. Sometimes I think maybe things would have been better if I—” I stop myself, pressing my lips together, unable to say those words out loud.

Dallas suddenly pushes up from the blanket, his gaze unwavering as he studies me in a way that’s so intense it feels almost like it’s too much.

Slowly, he reaches for my glass, taking it from me and placing it onto the coffee table before shifting closer until there’s nothing more than a hairbreadth between us, his big hands cupping my cheeks, holding me right where I am.

“There is so much I want to say to you right now in response to the fucking heartbreaking things you just told me, Emily,” he whispers, his voice laced with a raw emotion I wasn’t expecting. He presses his forehead against mine, gaze darting between my eyes. “Like how wrong you are, and how, despite all your doubts, you’re beautiful, and perfect, and stronger than anyone I know, and that every single thing about you takes my fucking breath away.”

I close my eyes, feeling tears trickle down my cheeks.

“Please look at me.” His words are barely a whisper.

With a trembling breath, I open my eyes again, looking straight into his.

“I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.” He steadies me with a piercing look, continuing, “But when you’re ready, I will be right here. I’m not going anywhere, Goldie.”

“Dallas?” I swallow my trepidation around the ball of uncertainty lodged in the back of my throat, terrified to say what I want to say, but knowing I have to say it.

“Yeah, baby.” He wipes my tear tracks with the pads of his thumbs.

“Can you please just—” I whisper, breathing him in, staring deep into his jade gaze as I search for my words. “Can you please… be with me? Now? I just need to forget. Even if only for the night.”

He stares at me, the flames of the fire reflecting in his eyes as a slow smile ghosts his lips. “I’ve got you, Goldie,” is all he says before his hand wraps around the back of my head, holding me right there as his lips crash against mine in a bruising kiss that takes every last part of my breath away.