Page 135 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
“That’s not meditating.”
“It’s my meditating after someone keeps me up all night.” I lay back against his chest. His arms came around me like they’d been doing it for years. “Don’t run too early. You’ll wake Chaos.”
“Chaos wakesme,” he grumbled.
“Then we’re both his victims,” I chuckled. “It’ll be a bonding experience between us.”
He shifted under my cheek—that almost silent laugh he kept mostly to himself. I felt it more than I heard it. My eyes shifted to the nightstand. The lip balm exactly where he’d left it, small and inconsequential, yet somehow the whole point. It settled something inside me.
I closed my eyes and realized I was exactly where I wanted to be.
Where I was meant to be.
If I allowed myself …
Chapter Twenty-Four
MARC
The shelter’s common room didn’t look like a shelter’s common room any longer.
Delaney and Cheryl had arrived early this morning to make the space a calm refuge. I knew this because when I texted Delaney at eight asking if she needed anything, she responded with a voice memo—her hands were full— of what sounded like furniture scraping as Cheryl asked about the weight distribution of a folding table, something about potted plants, and where the fairy lights should go.
Mats were in four rows, spaced out in a way that suggested a measuring tape might have been involved. A light lavender scent filtered from a ceramic diffuser on the windowsill. Larger crystals were arranged throughout. A small basket of tinier ones sat on a draped folding table near the door.
The whole room had been given a purpose it hadn’t had before.
Delaney was in the second row adjusting a mat that didn’t need adjusting. I watched her move it a quarter inch to the left. Study it. Then move it back.
I knew that sequence. She did it with the displays at her store, too—small, repetitive adjustments when her brain was running faster than her hands had tasks for. It was a pattern I’d noted without meaning to, the way I’d mentally recorded most things about her throughout our life.
I crossed the room and stopped just behind her. Close enough that she’d feel the shift. “The mat looks good.”
Her whole body flinched. That complete full-body startle of someone yanked back from deep within their subconscious. I caught her at the waist before she could stumble, both hands settling there, and she steadied beneath my grip with a sharp inhale. “What the fuck, Marc?!”
My nose dipped to the curve of her neck. She smelled like the lavender soap she used, and I’d begun to love. “It looks perfect. There’s nothing else you need to do.”
“I know.” She turned to face me. Stepped back slightly, which meant my hands had to drop. I didn’t release her immediately. She had her serious instructor face on—composed, professional—except her eyes gave away her nervousness. A little too focused, a little too careful, and a little too bright.
I waited.
She pointed to the space over her shoulder while giving me the rundown in precise order. Cheryl would demonstrate the sequences at the front, while Delaney circled the room offering participants assistance, and animals would be free to approach participants from the perimeter, while I and two volunteers watched for stress signals.
“If something goes sideways, we do this sign.” She held up two fingers, like a scout’s salute.
I nodded.
She’d told me this twice before. I let her tell me again because the repetition was what she needed, not my confirmation. It was fascinating to see her take a role that was most often mine—detail-oriented, prepared, running contingencies. I’d spent years noticing the ways we were different. Only recently had I begun to see how we were the same.
“It’s going to be great,” I said, when she finished.
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” I said. “But I know you.”
I watched that land. The slight shift in her expression, the purse of her lips, the moment where she ran the calculation of whether to let in my support or direct it to somewhere safe.
Delaney’s arms found my waist. She rested her cheek against my chest and let out a deep sigh. “I’m nervous, but having you here is calming me.”
