Page 208 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Need to know she’s okay.
Need to know something good still exists tonight.
The bedroom door is partially open.
Soft moonlight spills across the floor.
I stop in the doorway, forgetting how to breathe.
Peyton sleeps curled beneath the blankets, wearing one of my sweatshirts. Her hair fans across the pillow, one hand tucked beneath her cheek.
She looks peaceful. Soft. Safe.
The sight hits me like a punch straight to the ribs.
She looks so fucking innocent lying there. Not weak. Just untouched by the ugliness inside me. Untainted by darkness and ghosts.
Suddenly, all I can think about is the difference between us.
Peyton brings warmth into rooms without trying.
People gravitate toward her. Smile around her. Trust her.
Meanwhile, I spend entire charity events trying not to put someone through a fucking wall because they grabbed a kid too hard.
The image of his hand on Ethan's shoulder slices through me. It was a warning not to tell. A promise of even worse abuse if he dared open his mouth.
I know it all too well.
The contrast makes something ugly twist beneath my ribs.
She stirs slightly, a soft sound coming from her lips before she quiets.
I stare at the angel lying on the bed, her blonde hair turned silver by the moonlight glowing through the window.
Something sharp twists inside my chest, like a blade through my heart.
You’re not good enough for her.The thought is cold. Absolute.
You never will be.
I stare at her for too long.
Long enough that my chest physically hurts from it.
Because I want impossible things now.
I want mornings with her.
Coffee together.
The sound of her laughter floating through my kitchen.
Movie nights on the couch.
Her legs tangled with mine beneath the blanket.
I want her woven into every quiet part of my life so deeply that the idea of losing her already feels unbearable.
