be hurt. She might not express it, but she’s my best friend and Nash is her ex. Or more than that really. They still hold such a big part in each other’s lives, and she would never treat me the same way again. It’s bad enough what I’ve already done.
And Ellis? Even if I could somehow live up to his perfection, get through each day knowing I’m not quite worthy of his full attention, I know being with him would break Nash. And that’s not fair.
Somehow, even knowing this, I keep a hold of both of them, loving the way it feels in this moment. The safety and peace I feel in my heart is addictive, and I’m not ready to let it go.
I don’t think I ever will be.
22
It’s well after three in the morning when she finally stops crying, but none of us fall asleep. Instead, we stroke her back, keep her close, plant warm kisses on her body, and never leave her side for a second.
Finally, Ellis gets out of the bed first, disappearing into the bathroom, and I wonder what he’s doing until I hear the shower running.
“Come on, baby.” He lifts her carefully, cradling her in his arms, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s so collected. Like he knows exactly what everyone wants or needs at all times. Doesn’t he ever second-guess anything? Doesn’t he ever worry he’s wrong?
He’s not in this instance. I follow them into the bathroom, and find him tenderly undressing her from her bathing suit, keeping his eyes on her face as he does. And when he tries to help her into the shower, she reaches for him.
“Stay with me,” she whispers.
There’s only a moment of hesitation before he peels off his clothes until he’s naked climbing into the shower with her. I should feel like I’m imposing on something, but I don’t. Instead, I lean against the door frame and watch them through the frosted glass. She’s burying her face against him as he wraps his arms around her.
“Nash,” she calls.
Ellis peers my way, no expression on his face. He and I still haven’t spoken about anything outside of work since yesterday, but I try not to dig up those memories right now. Instead, I shed my clothes quickly and step into the water with them. This shower isn’t nearly as big as mine in the main house, so it keeps us close to each other, which is exactly what she needs. Pressed between our bodies, Ellis and I take turns washing her up, taking care of each delicate limb and inch of her body.
After the shower, we take her to the main house to get something to eat. It feels good to feed her, take care of her, give her what she needs. I’ve never really been in this position before. It’s always me being the one getting taken care of.
Then I remember more than once Preston sneaking into Dad’s liquor cabinet and getting so hammered he needed me to help him to the toilet, and yeah as weird as it was, I liked taking care of him. I liked being the responsible one.
Hanna sits at the kitchen island, wrapped in blankets, sipping on the tea Ellis made her while I cook up some leftover pasta Thalia left in the fridge. Okay, so I’m not a chef like my dad, but I can at least do this much.
She’s gotten some color back in her cheeks. The way she looked when we found her still haunts me. Her skin was almost gray, and her body was contorted in a strange position. There were beads of sweat across her face, but her skin was almost cold. I hated it. I never want to see her like that again.
Every few minutes my eyes meet Ellis’s in the kitchen, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am. Hanna cannot go back there. She can’t live with that woman again, not when it took one phone call to have her falling to pieces. The emotional damage that woman has inflicted on her own daughter…fuck—it has me fuming.
After next week, she has to stay here. I have to find a way to get her to stay.
The three of us spend the next hour talking and before long we’re actually laughing. Hanna is smiling, and it makes me happy to see those pearly whites between her lips.