“Oh,” he breathes out, his hands stilling on my back. “I was going to tell you, Win. I just—”
“No, no.” I sit up, teary-eyed, and look down at him. When I do, his expression isn’t what I expected. He looks scared, almost. Not sad. Not mournful. But scared. His jaw hardened and his eyes soft and held on me with a concern that has me wanting to smooth out the line between his brows with my thumb. More than that, actually. I wish I could take out his soul and smooth it out too, remove every wrinkle and crease and stain and give it back to him as good as new. “I’m not upset you didn’t tell me. I’m just… I wish I’d known,” I say. “So I could help somehow.”
Bo lifts up, forcing me to shift off his lower abdomen as he moves to sit with his back against the headboard. I go to move to the mattress next to him, but he pulls me back onto his lap with his hands on my hips.
With our faces just a few inches apart, Bo moves his hand to my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw tenderly next to my ear as his eyes delicately track the pattern.
Let me in, I want to say amidst the silence. Love me. Trust me. I won’t let you down. I swear it.
“I was scared that if I told you how my mom died, you’d think I was doing this for all the wrong reasons,” he says, his chest rising and his tear-brimmed eyes held tentatively on my jaw. “I didn’t want you to think that I asked you to move in just so I could monitor you or something. And…” He sighs, letting his forehead fall against my chin as he sniffs back tears.
“It’s okay…” I say, wrapping my hand around his neck, brushing over his hair. “You don’t have to explain. It’s okay…”
“I convinced myself that you wouldn’t be honest with me about how you’re feeling if you knew what had happened. I never wanted to risk your safety because you were more worried about my feelings than your own.” I feel his hands move to my hips, the tension pulling on my sweater as he balls up the material in his fists on either side. “But I did want to tell you, Win. I don’t want any secrets between us. Not anymore.”
I nod, my lips quivering against his hairline. He shakes with a soft sob, his shoulders falling forward. “It’s okay…” I say, over and over. “What happened is not at all your fault. It’s no one’s fault. You were just a baby. You’re not to blame.”
“I think…” He clears his throat, sitting up, his face level with mine. “I think having August is helping me realise that.” His nostrils flare on a deep inhale, and a tear drips down the left side of his cheek that he quickly wipes against his shoulder.
“Good.” I put my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me, to hear me. “Because we’d never blame them, would we?”
He shakes his head, his eyes locked on mine.
“You’ve given me so much, Win.”
“No…”
“Ever since I met you, it’s like every part of me has healed a little bit. Do you know that? Do you know that you do that for people?”
I nod. Not because I agree, but because I understand. “I think we both needed a fresh start. I think we gave that to each other.”
Bo’s hands begin shifting against my hips, his thumbs brushing the front of my stomach as he looks down between us. “It’s more than that, Win.” He tilts up to face me, his gaze pleading. “At least, it is for me.”
I swallow tightly, my hands still on the back of his neck.
“I’m not sure how to pace myself here. How to slow down so you can catch up,” he whispers.
“Catch up?” I ask, trembling.
“I think we both know how this is going to end,” he says, his voice gruff. “I’m just trying to figure out how to get us both there at the same time.”
“But… what about Cora?” I stutter out.
Bo leans back, studying my face intently with pouted lips and a raised brow. “What about Cora?”
I look down between us, dropping my hands from his neck. “That day, on the beach… you said you love her. You said you hadn’t gotten closure. It sounded like you were still—”
“I called her as soon as we got home, Win,” he interrupts.
“What?” I stammer.
“We got home from the beach, and all I could think was, here I am at the start of something new and beautiful, and I’m still stuck in the past. I realised I couldn’t keep making excuses for her. That I couldn’t leave things unresolved for the sake of peace. You deserved better than that. The baby deserved better than that. You made me realise that I deserved better than that. So I called her.”
“I… I didn’t know.”
Bo licks his lips, his eyes focused on something off to the side. “We talked for a few hours. I apologised for clinging to something long-over out of fear, and she apologised for… well, everything else. I think she’d been expecting me to call. She seemed ready for it. We both said our piece, and then she asked how I was. And then… I talked about you.”
“Me?”
Bo shakes his head, smiling. “I’ve been talking about you to pretty much anyone who would listen for months,” he laughs out softly. “I thought you knew, Win. I thought it was so painfully obvious how I feel about you. What I want here. I thought that’s why you set such clear boundaries. I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
I bring a hand to my mouth, covering a wavering smile. He wants me.
“I’ve been hanging on your every word, hoping you’ll give me a green light. I don’t want to push you. I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable, but… I don’t think I can pretend any—”
I kiss him. Because I have to. Because I can. Because it’s right.
And he kisses me back, fierce yet gentle, and it’s like a thousand hours spent wanting each other spilling between us. His hands go from my hips to my hair, clinging to me.
“You’re sure?” he asks, pulling back.
I giggle against his lips. “I’m sure, Bo. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Okay… we’ll talk after?”
“After,” I agree, laughing still, giddy and relieved and so effervescently happy.
Our kiss quickly turns feverish, with an intensity I’ve never felt before.
I don’t question if he wants this, because he’s told me he does. I don’t question if it’s a good choice or a bad one or worry about all it could ruin. Because when you love someone this much, when you’ve seen their hurt and their heart and you recognise them as your own—you’re left with no choice but to give yourself over to it. And I’m tired of being scared. I long to be loved by a man like Bo. I long to love him, the way he deserves.
Our souls were tied a long time ago, I think. We’re just finally admitting it to each other.
Bo twists and lies down lengthways across the headboard, keeping me on top of him with a steady hold. We’re both smiling when our lips meet again, but that ends when Bo’s hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me farther against him than it seems I can go.
I feel it too, wanting to fuse our bodies together—the need to become one living thing.