noises and turns toward me. I can see her face by the light of the clock. For the next hour I watch her breathe. She’s so peaceful that it brings me joy and hurts at the same time. But the best part is that her peace somehow brings me some, and I drift off.
Hours later, I squint against the sun coming through the window and realize the hand on my chest isn’t my own. My heart beats rapidly. I’ve never allowed this before. I don’t move, and it dawns on me that it’s because I don’t want her to wake up and take her hand away.
She’s lying on her side, her hair covering her eyes, shielding it from the light. Her pillow is inches from mine. Her face is close, and I can feel the warmness of her breath. But her hand is the only part of her touching me.
I look at the clock, amazed I slept for six hours. I can’t remember a time I slept through the night when I wasn’t in some kind of liquor-induced coma. I love having her next to me.
I stare at her full lips and remember kissing her. I don’t kiss women. I’m twenty-four years old, and she’s the only one I’ve ever truly kissed. I tried a few times in college, but it was awkward and forced—me trying to prove something to myself. I don’t kiss women.
Her eyes open. It takes her a few seconds to remember why I’m in bed with her, then she pulls back, embarrassed. “Sorry, habit I guess.”
“Corey?”
“Not really. I’m a cuddler, but he never liked it. He said I was too restless, and he’s a light sleeper. I guess it’s why we never moved in together.” She laughs softly. “When I think back, there were so many signs that we shouldn’t have been together.”
“Then why stay with him?”
“I fell in love. That’s what you do, right? Fall in love, get married, have a few kids.”
“You want kids?”
“Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
I stare blindly at the ceiling. “Some people shouldn’t have them.”
“God, Liam. I’m sorry.”
“You said kids, plural. You want a big family? Do you come from one?”
“It’s just me. I had a sister once. We were twins, but she died at birth. My mom thinks it’s why I’m such a cuddler, because I had nine months in the womb with my sister.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember her obviously, but my whole life it’s felt like something was missing. How can I miss her when I didn’t even know her?”
I close my eyes and let my head sink into the pillow. “I miss my brother.”
“Is he back home?”
I shake my head.
She sighs. “Oh, no. How old were you when it happened?”
“Almost twelve. Luke was fifteen.”
“Twelve. Wow. It’s a tough age for any kid, let alone when you lose a brother.”
“You have no idea. It was all his fault.”
She touches my arm to comfort me, but I jerk away.
“Liam, you can talk to me.”
“No, I can’t.”
“I know what happened to you. At least I think I do.”
I sit up abruptly, and the sheet falls away, exposing the scars on my outer thigh. I cover up, but she sees them anyway. I turn away. “Then you know how truly fucked up I am.”
“If you really think that, you’ve let him win. He’s taken so much from you already. Don’t let him take your future.”
“I don’t even know what that means, El.”
“It means you can have anything you desire, Liam. A happy life. Love. If you want it.”
I crane my neck around and stare at her. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She puts a gentle hand on my back. I flinch, and she takes it away. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Ella
I all but threw myself at him. For weeks I haven’t thought of Corey. I only think about the kiss, and how much I want Liam.
Since that night, we’ve shared the same hotel room but not the same bed. We sometimes gaze at each other from across the room in the darkness. He wants me, but he’s scared. Of what happened to him? Of letting me in?
He runs ahead of me, and I stare at his legs. I want to ask him about the scars. They aren’t visible when he’s in a bathing suit or running shorts. Is it something his father did? Or did he hurt himself because of what his father did?