When my crying slows, he pulls me upright, tissue ready to dry my tears.
“I'm pretty sure I got snot on your shirt.” I take a stuttering breath. “Sorry.” The gentle warmth in his face almost brings on a new wave of tears.
“Doll, I've had far worse things on my shirt. Don't worry about it.” He holds up the tissue box, and I take a couple, trying to gather the shattered pieces of my dignity. His broad hand runs up and down my back.
“Fuck,” I sigh. “I'm sorry, I promise I'm not always an emotional basket case.”
“Everyone gets to be a basket case sometimes.”
I force a sardonic laugh. “I have a hard time seeing you break down because someone said something nice to you.”
Cillian laughs. “Look, whatever you perceive as—what didyou say—stable and well adjusted, is one part a front and several parts years of therapy.” He brushes an errant tear from my cheek. “Trust me, my fault lines are the size of the fucking Grand Canyon.”
“People really like the Grand Canyon.”
“It's still just a giant hole in the ground.”
I roll my eyes.
He pecks a kiss on the tip of my reddened nose.
I let my cheek rest against his chest, a wave of exhaustion washing over me.
Some time later, he coaxes me awake with tender care.
“Let's get you in bed.”
I sleepily nod.
Cillian leads me to my room and slips the robe off my shoulders. He picks one of my ancient sleep shirts from the laundry he'd folded earlier, sliding it over my head.
Half asleep and emotionally drained, I am out of any fucks that may have prevented the next words from coming out of my mouth. “Will you stay? Just—” I yawn. “Just for a little bit?”
Cillian smiles, kissing me softly. “I'll stay as long as you like.”
Forever,a traitorous part of me whispers. I ignore it.
Cillian strips to his boxers and slides into bed next to me, pulling me into the broad warmth of his chest. My hand rests over his heart, fingers grazing the jagged circular scar.
I fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart beside me and dream of the Grand Canyon.
CHAPTER 20
Cillian
My leg bouncesagainst the cracked booth, making the tea in my mug vibrate like that one Jurassic Park scene, a warning of something big and vicious close by. Except, rather than a T-rex, it’s my wrecked nervous system threatening to send everything to shit.
My phone vibrates. For once, I'm grateful Joey is a goddamn hour late, so there’s no one around to notice how something as small as a message from Lucy is enough to make me flinch.
A picture of Toni holding up an almost too perfect apple, damn near the size of her face, dimples popping with her bright smile fills my screen.
Lucy
Baby's first apple.
That's where I should be. Enjoying the sunny fall day. Eating apples until my stomach hurts with my friends and my...and Toni. Not in this drab diner, drinking mediocre tea.
Across the restaurant, a toddler shrieks, their plate clattering to the ground.
