Page 47 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

H enry

I’ve not yet opened my eyes, but I get the sense I’m being watched. When I lift my lids, Matilda is staring at me. Jesus, she’s pretty. She’s lying on her side with one forearm folded under her head, staring at me as she nervously bites down on her thumbnail.

“Morning,” I say.

“Good morning, Henry.”

I can’t resist touching her again now that I’m awake, and I lift a hand to her hip, caressing light circles over her flesh.

“You okay? You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I’m fine.” Her response comes too quickly.

“I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that when a woman says, ‘I’m fine,’ she’s anything but…”

She flips onto her back and gazes at the ceiling. Now I’m starting to get concerned. I lean partway over her.

“Hey, whatever it is, it’ll be okay.But I need you to talk to me about it, because, for all my many talents, reading minds isn’t one of them.”

My attempt at humor falls short.

She bites at her lower lip.

“Do you regret last night?” I have to ask, even if I’m afraid of her answer.

“No. I should, but I don’t.” Ouch, that hurts a little.

“You should? Why should you?”

She peers into my eyes, silent for a few seconds.

“Because now I’m scared. Last night felt like… It felt like more. It felt like we were more. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t want to get hurt. I’m afraid ‘more’ might hurt.”

Fuck, the vulnerability she just showed has stunned me.

Her eyes beg me to say something that will take away her fear, but I want to be careful not to give her empty words.

I take a minute to gather my thoughts, trying to figure out how to phrase them.

She must mistake it for hesitance, because suddenly she flies out of bed and is at the bathroom door before I can get any words out.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m giving mixed signals. Listen?—”

“Matilda…”

I sit up at the side of the bed, and that makes her retreat into the bathroom, her hand on the handle.

“Listen, forget I said anything. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird.” I move to stand, and her eyes widen. “I’m gonna shower. You should go.”

Before I can get to her, she’s shut herself in the bathroom and turned the shower on. I don’t make a habit of walking into the bathroom when someone else is in there, but to hell with it. She’s spiraling, and I need to stop it.

When I reach the door, I turn the handle and find that she has locked it.I rest my forehead against the closed door.

“Matilda?”

She doesn’t respond. I sigh, step back, and pick up my clothes to get dressed.

I head downstairs and put a pot of coffee on.

After it’s finished brewing, I make us each a cup.

I drink my entire mug while staring out the window over the sink—I could stare at this view for hours—and she still hasn’t come down.

I heard the old pipes rattle when she turned the shower off ten minutes ago.

I reheat her cup of coffee in the microwave, planning to drink it myself, and I make her a fresh cup.

I’m working my way to the living room when I hear that creak from the fifth stair, telling me she’s on her way down. I halt in the doorway between the kitchen and the family room.

I see Matilda, but it’s clear she doesn’t see me yet as she slowly prowls down the steps, acting as if danger lurks around every corner. I guess to a heart that hasn’t been treated right by the opposite sex, it probably feels that way.

When I see her stealthily peek out the front window, clearly searching for my truck, I decide to make my presence known.

“Whatcha looking for, tiger?”

“Fuck!” Tillie jumps, grabbing onto the curtain, and she accidentally rips it down. I chuckle as she gets wrapped up in the material and flails to free herself. When she manages to unwrap the fabric from her curves, she throws the cloth on the floor and turns to glare at me, hands on her hips.

“Jesus, Henry. You don’t sneak up on someone like that.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who was doing the sneaking…” I notice then that she’s wearing my sweatshirt that I gave her for Christmas. “Nice sweatshirt. Big improvement from the other one.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an ass. And I hope one of those coffees is for me.”

“It is. Leave the curtain, I’ll fix it before I leave. Come have coffee with me.”

I walk to the couch, and she joins me. We sit quietly for a few minutes. I’ve not said anything yet, wanting to give her a chance to speak first, if that’s what she wants. Since she hasn’t, I assume that it’s okay to talk.

“It was more.”

She turns and stares at me, tilting her head, and her forehead wrinkles. “Huh?”

“Last night. It felt like more because it was more. It is more.” I watch her closely for any signs of panic. So far, I see none. “Is that okay with you?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and my heart pounds.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. I open my mouth to reply, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “It frightens me. But the alternative is we truly and fully end our… our situation.”

There have been a few times in my life when anxiety hit me suddenly, like when I pressed the submit button for an exam that would derail my career if I didn’t pass. You push it and wait for the automated result while your heart races and pounds. That’s what’s happening to me at this exact moment.

But I have to know.

“Is that what you want to do? End our ‘situation?’” Fuck that’s hard even to ask.

She bites her lips for a few seconds. “No, and yes. But let me explain. I don’t want it to be a ‘situation’ anymore. I just want to be us. Last night, when we were more, I loved how that felt.”

I reach for her hand and hold it, trying to encourage her to continue sharing.

“My feelings for you are more than friend feelings,” she whispers.

Hope rises inside me. “But I can’t let us move forward without you knowing why I’m hesitant.

What makes me so afraid. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, and I’m not na?ve enough to think I’m not still affected by my past. This past week is a perfect example. ”

“Okay. Can I hold you while you tell me?”

When she nods, I lean back against one side of the couch, and she crawls between my legs, finally finding a comfortable position, then rests her head on my chest.

“I need to say it all at once, and then if you have questions, we can talk about them. Okay?”

“So, don’t be my usual self and interrupt you, is what you’re saying?” A sweet chuckle escapes her.

“Yeah, I guess that is what I’m saying. Here goes nothing.” She takes a deep breath in, then exhales.

“How you are with the girls, the way you love them, I didn’t have that kind of relationship with my father.

I wanted it, though. So badly. When I was young, around eight, my dad and my sister, Claire, used to go on bike rides a few times a week.

I always wanted to go, but they would leave before I could get myself together.

One day, though, it occurred to me that if I was always ready, then I could join them.

So, every day, after school, and every weekend morning, I would get my bike and helmet out and make sure I had tennis shoes on.

Then I would wait. That didn’t work. I still got left behind. ”

She pauses and takes a few more deep breaths before continuing.

“Then I got smarter and started waiting on my bike, near theirs, so that I wouldn’t miss them.

When the day finally came that everything lined up, I was beyond excited.

My dad, though, was annoyed, and Claire whined that it was their thing.

But my mom made him take me. Not because she was standing up for me.

She wanted to go shopping and didn’t want to have to take me with her. So, he was forced to take me.”

I fight back anger, thinking about a darling young Matilda having to fight so hard for scraps of affection from people who should have offered it in abundance. I kiss her on top of her head and force myself to remain silent.

“For the first few blocks, it was okay. My dad and Claire were up ahead and didn’t talk to me, but I was able to keep up, at least. Then my legs started getting fatigued.

They both had ten-speed bikes and could go fast. I had one of those little kid bikes with solid rubber tires.

If you’ve ever ridden one, you know it’s a lot of work and definitely not meant for long bike rides.

I was falling behind, so I tried harder.

I was pedaling super fast, but they got four or five houses ahead of me, and the distance between us kept growing. Neither of them glanced back.”

She reaches up to wipe both sides of her face with the backs of her hands. My heart aches for her.

“My legs hurt, but more than that, I was afraid. Afraid I was going to get lost. Or that one of the cars driving by would hit me. I tried my best to keep up, Henry. I kept thinking, if only I tried harder, my dad would remember I was back there. I called out for them, but I guess they were too far away to hear.” She takes a deep breath and then continues.

“Eventually, I couldn’t go any farther. I stopped.

I was at a point where I could still figure out the way back home, but soon that would no longer have been true.

So, I turned around and walked my bike home, crying the entire way.

When my dad got home, he grounded me for leaving and making them cut their bike ride short when he finally realized I was gone. ”

I tighten my hold on her. If I could wrap my body around hers and protect her for the rest of her life, I would.

“That’s how things were. I spent my entire childhood trying to work for my dad’s love.

My mom didn’t hurt me as badly because she was apathetic to both Claire and me, most of the time.

But I saw that my dad could love because he clearly loved Claire.

But I couldn’t figure out what I needed to do to make him love me.

To make him want to spend time with me . ”

She lifts a hand to signal she needs a minute, and I lean down and kiss her temple. While she told me the story, fury flowed through my veins at what her father put her through. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Okay, I’m ready again.” She clears her throat. “By the time I met Joe, I was low-hanging fruit. All he had to do was show me some affection, whisper lies about how much he loved me, and what our life would be like together. I bit, hook, line, and sinker. Believed everything he told me.

“It was all an act, though, and it changed once we got married. He became more and more controlling, limiting activities where I might have made friends, and bullying me into cutting my work hours to near nothing. He diminished any accomplishments I had, and he made me ashamed of my body by repeatedly telling me all the ways it didn’t meet his standards. ”

She sniffles a few times and wipes furiously at her tears.

“I did it all, Henry. Whatever I thought would please him, I tried. It didn’t make him love me more, and it didn’t stop him from having an affair.

By the time Gram and her gang helped me get out, I was a weak, broken mess.

That’s what love does to me. I become that woman, and I can’t risk it happening again.

Not after everything I’ve done to get free. ”

We sit in silence for several seconds, so I assume she’s finished speaking.

“Can I say a few things now?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you turn and face me?”

I take her scrambling around as a yes and scoot myself until I’m upright.

When she doesn’t seem to know what to do with her legs, I tell her to wrap them around me, and she blushes.

After all the things the woman and I have done to each other’s bodies, this makes her embarrassed. Still, she does it.

“Good. I need to be as close to you as possible for this.”

Her eyes widen, and I can’t stop myself from kissing her. So, I do, and we get lost in each other for several blissful minutes.

“Mmm, I like that answer,” she says.

“Oh, tiger, that’s not what I wanted to say. That was because I can’t resist you. I’ve got plenty to say. Watch me with those beautiful blue eyes of yours so I can be sure you hear every word.”

When her attention is on me again, I cup her face in my hands.

“I choose you, Matilda. Every day, I will always choose you. Do you understand me?”

She doesn’t reply, and tears stream down her cheeks.

“Do you?”

She nods.

“You don’t have to be afraid of what you might become by loving me because I’m going to live every single day you’ll allow me to building you up, reminding you how beautiful you are inside and out, and loving you how you deserve to be loved.

I’m never going to make you give up anything that makes you happy or do things that cause you discomfort.

I might be a little bossy, but when you call me out on it, I’ll get it in check.

I love you, Matilda. It scares the hell out of me when I think about how I’d go on if I ever lost you, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. ”

I don’t know what I expect her to do when I stop speaking, but I’m pleased when she leans forward and kisses me.

When she leans back, she peers at me with bright eyes—no more tears.

“I love you, Henry. Maybe we can be scared together until we’re not anymore.”

“Really?” She nods, and I feel like everything is right with the world. “You’ve got a deal.”

I lower my mouth to hers, getting lost in the taste of her until she pulls back a little.

“I have an issue with one thing you said, though.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” I cover her neck in kisses while I wait for her answer.

“I still want you to be bossy in the bedroom, sometimes. I like that,” she whispers.

I groan and don’t give her a chance to take it back before I’m standing, holding her gorgeous body up with her legs wrapped around me and carrying her upstairs.