Pieces of Us (Missing Pieces #3) - N.R. Walker Page 0,1
word. And it wasn’t aphasia. There were just too many words to choose from: awful, like shit, bad, low, worthless, horrible, useless . . . “Sad.”
Frowning, Dallas took my empty coffee cup from me, put it on the sink, and pulled me into his arms. Into those huge, strong, and warm arms, holding me against his chest where I was safe and protected and completely enclosed. I could feel my worries dissipate, and the tension left my shoulders as I melted into him.
It was such a relief and so comforting, I could have cried.
I was stupid to think for one second that I could live without him. Well, not that I thought I could, but I had wondered why he didn’t leave me. I wouldn’t survive this without him.
He rubbed my back and took deep, calming breaths which I somehow unknowingly mimicked, making myself feel a little better.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replied. His voice rumbled smoothly in his chest against my ear. He never moved to let go of me or even pull away. “Did you feel sad for any reason? Or just because.”
“Just because.” I sighed since that felt like such an easy way out. I needed to talk about this. I owed him that. “I just feel . . . I hate being useless and I hate how my brain doesn’t work sometimes. I hate that you have to look after me, and I hate that I can’t do everything. I just woke up feeling pretty low today.”
He rubbed my back some more and kissed the side of my head. “I get that,” he said, still hugging me. “And you’re allowed to feel those things. I can tell you that you’re not useless, but I don’t want to make what you feel invalid. Because if you feel it, then it’s real and we need to work on why you feel like that.” He pulled back then and cupped my face. “But baby, you’re the strongest guy I know. You’re determined and capable, and you’ve accomplished more in the last two months than you realise. I know you must be frustrated with everything, and I don’t blame you. But if you could just see how far you’ve come.”
I frowned, because I certainly didn’t feel like that.
“You’re allowed to feel useless and frustrated. And angry and sad,” Dallas added. “Thank you for telling me.”
I sighed again, sagging against the kitchen counter. “I would be so lost without you,” I mumbled.
He kissed my forehead and pressed me up against the cupboard and wrapped his strong arms around me again, squishing my face into his chest. “I’d be lost without you too,” he replied. But then one arm was gone from around me as he reached over to the kettle and flicked it on. “I’d be lost without coffee too.”
That made me smile, despite my mood. “You drink decaf now.” Another change he’d made for me.
“Just because it’s a bit different now doesn’t mean I still don’t need it,” he replied. I was certain that was aimed at me and not all about coffee. Because I was a bit different now and he still needed me . . .
Then he shuffled me over so he could keep one arm around me while he reached for the cups. “You can let go of me,” I suggested.
“Nope. I can do both. I can make two coffees and give good hugs.”
I managed a chuckle. How had he managed to make me laugh? “Yes, you can.”
He turned his head. “Ugh. The milk’s in the fridge. Black coffee it is.”
I pushed him away with a laugh. “Get the milk.”
He quickly grabbed the milk and came straight back to his spot, which was pressed tight against me, pushing me against the cupboard with one arm around me. I gladly hugged him back, using the magic of his hugs to fix me for as long as I could.
“Coffees are done.” He sipped his. “Now, shall I try for toast?”
I chuckled again. “Depends where the bread is.”
He leaned and stretched. “Got it.”
But the margarine was in the fridge so he had to let go of me, which gave me a chance to sip my fresh coffee. He made breakfast and we shared triangles of Vegemite toast, and by the time we’d showered and dressed for work, I was feeling better.
I should have stayed in bed and hugged him there rather than getting up and wallowing by myself. Dallas knew how to fix me, and