Page 129 of What We Break
I don't say anything. Just pull her closer.
Sometime around four she falls asleep for real. Breathing deep and even against my chest. I lie awake, one hand in her hair. The room going from black to gray so slow you'd miss it if you weren't staring at the ceiling like an idiot.
Laine's in Reid's bed right now. Probably curled against him the same way Leanne's curled against me. Except Reid gets to keep her. Reid gets to wake up tomorrow and the next day and the next day and she's still there.
I get this. One night with a stranger who needed the same thing I did.
It's more than I deserve.
I wakeup to the smell of coffee.
Leanne is standing in the doorway, two mugs in hand. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and nothing else, hair messed up, mascara smudged under her eyes.
"Wasn't sure how you take it. There's sugar in the kitchen if you need it."
"Black's fine."
She hands me a mug, sits on the edge of the bed. We drink in silence, watching the morning light fill the room.
"I meant what I said last night," she says eventually. "You're not what I expected."
"You either."
She smiles. Tired but real. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Someone who wanted to forget more than talk."
"I did want to forget. But the talking helped more." She takes another sip. "Is that weird?"
"No."
We finish our coffee. I get dressed while she watches, neither of us pretending this is something it isn't. When I'm done, she walks me to the door.
We both look like hell and neither one pretends otherwise.
She reaches up and straightens my collar. Small. Automatic. The kind of thing you do for someone after years of doing it for someone else. Her hands stay on my chest a beat too long.
"You're a good man, Blake." Quiet. Not flattery. Just matter of fact.
I don't know what to do with that. I'm not. But I nod. My hand finds hers where it sits against my chest.
"You're gonna be okay."
She smiles. Sad but real. "Yeah. Eventually."
I step out into the morning. The door closes softly behind me.
I sit in my truck for a long moment. Sun coming up. Dashboardclock reads 6:23 AM. Reid and Laine are probably still asleep, tangled up in each other.
I'm tempted to just drive. No plan, no destination, just anywhere that isn't home. But that's just running, and I'd still have to come back. I have to face them both.
The house isquiet when I ease the front door open. The hinges creak and my boots are too fucking loud on the hardwood. I freeze. Listen.
Nothing.
I make it to the kitchen and start the coffee. I'm leaving dirt footprints all over the floor. I toe off my boots and toss them outside the door, then head to the sink to wet a cloth. My reflection in the window looks exactly like what I am—a man who spent the night trying to fuck away his feelings and failed.
Shirt wrinkled. Hair a mess. Probably still whiskey on my breath.
