Page 73 of Whispered Promises

“Oh, okay,” she replies, reluctance threading through her words. Fuck, I’m trying to do this for her, but she’s not making it easy.

“Message me. Any time you need it. I’m here.”

My promise is rough, coated in need. She needs to get that. She needs to understand that my world has fucking pivoted, and now she’s the centre of it.

She nods, mouth all pink and swollen. Marked by me. I fucking did that.

It takes more strength than any weight I’ve ever lifted to force myself to walk away from her. But I do; because she needs me to.

THIRTY

ROSY

After having a night to myself with Moshi, I’m feeling a little better. I don’t think I’m healed, but it’s less gut-wrenching and more of a dull ache. Although, if Max were to appear in front of me right now, that would all change. The reprieve in the hurt would break, and it would all come hurtling back in.

But spending time with animals seems to help me reset and get a better perspective. So we hung out, and with slow progress since Moshi arrived, we’ve managed to trust each other enough that he’ll creep out of his bed and take treats from my hand.

Does that mean a lot to most people? Probably not.

But to me, it’s important to appreciate how much trust it’s taken for him to accept me like that, and in return, I respect the time he needs for me to not rush things.

It would be nice if people put in the effort of understanding each other's boundaries and needs like that, but it’s rare people ever do. Or that might be my jaded experience talking, because recently, my life has become fuller with people who seem to want to take the time to understand and get to know me.

And instead, I’m avoiding going over to see them.

A big part of me misses being in their space, surrounded by them. I’m remembering what it’s like to have people care for me, and apparently, I’m not ready to give that up. Perhaps I can make myself go, rip off the Band-Aid, and see him. The longer I leave it, the more the anticipation’s going to build.

My hand pauses midway through brushing my hair, and I frown at my reflection in the mirror.

Not sure this pep talk is actually working.

But next time I’m invited over for dinner, I’m going to say yes. Nodding at myself, I try to bolster confidence. We’re leaving it down to fate…Mother Nature…God? Whoever’s out there.

I’ll rip off that Band-Aid and go to dinner. If they message me to ask.

My phone dings, and my heart drops through my chest in horror, the brush clattering into the sink. A birdlike sound screeches from my mouth, and my hands fly up to clasp my face. Did I just make something happen I’m not ready for?

I take it back.

I’m not ready.

“Did you hear that, universe? I’m not ready. So you need to undo whatever you’ve magicked to happen…please?” I whisper-yell, hoping that whatever I did gets reversed. Whoever said no take backsies is a liar.

Shit, shit, shit.

Reaching out a clammy, slightly shaky hand, I pick up my phone and unlock it.

Bry

How was work? What are you up to? x

Me

Same old. Did you make anything new today? Just getting ready to head out for a delivery driving shift. You? x

Bry

Do you fancy some company?? x