warmly, unmoving from his place until I step aside and motion for him to enter. His arms engulf me the moment he strides in, soft lips placing a kiss to the top of my head.
“My darling girl, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.
No answer on my part. I never do. Don’t believe a single word he says, not when he is what he is and does what he does.
Which is why I head to my room rather than joining them for dinner.
My mother may love him unconditionally and without borders, but I don’t, and the chances of me ever loving him again are nonexistent.
Tap, tap!
Tap, tap, tap!
“Tinks, open up!”
Peter. I can just barely hear his voice. It’s so distant and muffled within the depths of my slumber. I’m trying to hold onto it, trying to pull myself into consciousness.
But I’m so tired.
Mentally, physically, emotionally.
Tap, tap!
“T, wake up!”
Tap, tap, tap!
Finally, a breakthrough.
That last tap at my window clashes through the fog, peeling my heavy eyelids open. The book I’d immersed myself in before falling asleep is still open on my chest, lying flat on the page I’d drifted off from. Tossing it aside, I force myself onto my feet, pad over to window, and flip open the lock.
Normally, I’m so thrilled to see Peter, I practically yank him into my room. But something’s different tonight. I don’t know if it’s that I’m simply so upset about everything in general, or what, but I let him make it in on his own, trudging back to my bed without a glance back.
Not like he can’t manage.
He’s pushed that window open more times than I can count.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper in the darkness.
His reply doesn’t come instantaneously, but when it does, I already have the sheets pulled over my legs. “I had to see you,” he whispers back.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just—been a few days since I last saw you. I missed you.”
He’s beside me after that, shifting all his weight onto one hand as he leans into my personal space. That smell, that woodsy, crisp balm he always smells of, hits me. Might have only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity since I last smelled it.
And that hits me even harder.
My eyes well. “I missed you, too,” I admit, hushed voice shaking.
“Ah, T, c’mon—don’t do this to me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. Things have just been...hard lately. The nightmares, I haven’t been feeling too hot, either.”
All trials he had no inclination to share with me.
I hate that’s the first place my mind goes to, but...can you blame me?
Peter and I were always fighting an uphill battle, one where reaching the top seemed bleaker than bleak, and then, suddenly, we fell off this unforeseen cliff into nothingness and haven’t stopped falling since.
I wasn’t expecting it. Wasn’t ready for it. And perhaps I should’ve been—you know, bleak and all of that—but I truly wasn’t. I guess a part of me always thought we could make it
More like, hoped we’d make it.
But my subconscious knew the truth.
So what am I supposed to do?
“Why are things so different now, Peter?” I can’t even stop myself from asking it. “Did I do something? Say something? Is it something I didn’t say?”
“No, no, baby girl, no.” He cups my face in a flash, slowly climbing over me. “You didn’t do anything. This is all me. I promise you.”
“Then why is everything so different? Why are you so distant?”
A single, gentle push and I’m on my back, his frame nestled between my legs. “It’s all me,” he repeats. “This is all me, my fault. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, Tinks. So fucking sorry. I swear to you that wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s fine, I just…” My throat constricts as I swallow the lie. “I just hate the distance. Hate that you’ve stopped talking to me, telling me these things.”
“I know and I’m sorry. All I wanted was to get myself in order without dragging you into it. It’s so much worse this time, T. So. Much. Worse.”
“So let me help you then, Peter. Please… I-I love you. Hate seeing you suffer in silence when I’m right here.”
“There is no helping me, I told you this.” He’s insistent, threading his fingers into my hair. “I have to do it myself.”
“But there has to be—”
“Shhh.” A warm finger touches my lips. “Let’s not talk about this right now. It’s messed with my head enough. I just want to be with you.”