Page 84 of Restitution

She moves closer, and I stiffen. “I love you, Stacey, but I’m not ready for any of this,” I say, getting to my feet, her eyes lifting to follow my movements. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze drops. “I just want to help you.”

“I know you do.”

She takes my hand when I offer it to her, helping her to stand. The touch is electrifying, and it takes me everything not to yank her into my chest and kiss her.

I’m not sure how to feel about it. I’m in no position to offer her anything.

Why is this shit so confusing?

While I follow her inside, my gaze lowers to the sway of her hips in front of me, her wavy hair flipping side to side. The need to grab her gets worse, but I fist my hands.

At least I know my dick still exists. I feel the twitch and hate myself.

I walk her to the room my mother has given her, right next to Luciella’s. She stops outside the door and nibbles on her lip as she turns to me.

Is she nervous? I’m nervous.

Do I fuck my own inner turmoil and kiss her anyway?

No. She’ll feel my scar and I’ll probably pass out. I already feel faint thinking about potentially hurting her.

“I know you need your space to normalise with everything again, and I’m going to give you as much as you need. But I want you to know that I’m here.”

I stare at her for a beat then drop my gaze. “You can do better than me, Stacey. I’m not the same person I was before. That versionof me doesn’t exist anymore.”

I don’t think this version does either.

“I changed too.” She hugs herself, and I hate that I’ve made her feel anxious around me. “I want to help you. I want tobewith you. However long it takes for you to get better.” Her voice cracks, and I think something in my chest does too. “You said you still loved me.”

“I do,” I reply without hesitation. “I would die to get that time back with you. But I’ve no idea how to be in a relationship. Not anymore.”

“I understand. I don’t want that either. It’s not something either of us is ready for.” She chews her bottom lip, nods once and looks to the side. “I just… I don’t know what to do or how to act.”

I lower my voice. “I know.”

She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. I wish I could feel how soft it is between my fingers. I used to always play with her hair.

She was my anchor. I think she still is.

I run my thumb against the rough skin at the corner of my lips, and weirdly, I don’t feel the need to hide it from her. It’s been out in full show all night and she hasn’t once looked at it or let it grab her attention.

Or maybe I haven’t noticed because it hurts to look at her.

“Can I get your new number?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Us texting is fine, right?”

A warm feeling fills my chest when she smiles. It reaches her sad eyes. “Yeah. Type yours in and I’ll text you,” she replies, pulling her phone from her pyjama pocket and giving it to me.

As soon as I unlock the screen, I see her search bar is open. She’s been hunting on Google for any news on my dad.

She tilts her head at my pause.

“You were close with my dad.”

“Yeah. I visited him every day when I was in America.”

I hum, typing my number. “I’m glad you had someone. Barry said you were close with Lisa too. And sometimes gave him a heart attack when you’d slip security.”