“Okay,” I close my eyes and hate the fact that I called him a coward just months before because the battle he faces daily makes him more heroic to me than anything ever could.
He shifts me on his lap, his knuckles running along my jaw.
“You know my…habits. You saw me get lost in my head in Virginia. I’ve been in several questionable states like that…” His eyes shine with fear as he looks to me, completely lost. “I have no control over if this happens to me. I’m not going to put you in the position my mother was put in, a young child to raise while her husband went fucking mad.”
“Is this the reason you refused me when I showed up?”
“One of them. You’re young, Cecelia. I’ve already robbed you blind. How much more could I take? I’m not that greedy.” With that statement, my heart shatters into a million pieces.
“You take everything, Tobias, because I’m no good for anyone else. I won’t ever be. It’s only you. And I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right, I won’t. I’ll never leave your goddamn side. Never for that reason. Not ever. So don’t ask me.” He remains silent, his eyes dropping as I again force him to face me.
“Damnit, Frenchman, you don’t get to hide from me anymore. Do you understand? Tell me you believe me, Tobias. I will never purposefully leave you for that. What hurts you, hurts me. What scares you, scares me,” I murmur to him as he runs his nose along my jaw. “If we fail,” I assure him, “we’ll fail together. You’ll never be alone again. Not ever.”
Red-rimmed eyes lift to mine. “If there ever comes a time where I can’t…”
“Stop. We aren’t going to do that.”
“This is where you let me be realistic.”
I concede due to the sheer determination in his eyes. “We do it together unless I become incapable, which brings me to my next point. You decide.”
“Decide what?”
“When to go back in, if we go at all.”
“And what about what you want? What about my king?”
He nuzzles me. “Still in the making. For now, the queen is the one in control of the board.”
Opening the hotel door, I pause when I hear the familiar melody of “K” by Cigarettes After Sex. My woman is in a mood. Grinning, I shut the door and stalk into the living room of the suite in search of her. A freshly made drink waits on the antique bar cart, and I retrieve it taking a healthy sip.
“Trésor?”
As expected, I get no reply. Walking into the bedroom, I see it’s also empty aside from the garment bag laying on the bed with a note attached.
Tailored for a king.
Merry Christmas.
X
Setting my drink down on the dresser, I walk over to it and unzip it, revealing a classic Armani with a skinny tie and freshly starched white pocket square.
“Trésor,” I sigh, running my fingers over the material in appreciation, I can’t help my grin.
It’s fucking perfect.
This woman knows me, my story, my beginning and my middle, my flaws, the history of my scars—my strengths and weaknesses. She sees so clearly past my armor and is the only one capable of going further, penetrating flesh and blood to get to the beating heart beneath. I gave that power to her, to hold it in her hand and do what she will with it. And even with it—knowing what she’s capable of doing to me—she continues to love, accepting the burden fully while remaining loyal and faithful.
The liberation that comes with her acceptance is one I unknowingly searched for and found in her. In these precious seconds, I bask in the understanding that I have someone to share myself with, a partner, a lover, confidante, and friend. Her love is all the validity I’ll ever need.