Could I be enough for him? Could he accept me as a person who made mistakes and not the perfect image he seemed to have of me?
Was there something I could do that he could not forgive? That part of his world was so black and white; could I ever get him to see gray?
I loved him so much already. The image of him walking away caused a low, throbbing pain to lance in my chest. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my breathing—deep, slow lungfuls of air until my pulse calmed and the pain lessened.
Then I remembered his words. He needed me. He reached out for the first time in his life to another person: to me.
I needed patience. We would take it one step at a time. Together.
Zachary shifted, muttering in his sleep, holding me closer. “Megan…love you—” He relaxed, deep into sleep again, his face peaceful, all the stress and tension he carried erased.
For a brief second, I wondered what he would be like if his childhood had been different. If his parents had shown him love. If he hadn’t been used and become bitter. His handsome face not marred and his smiles easily offered. I wanted to be able to go back in time and find the child he had been; keep him safe from all he had faced and protect him from the pain.
But that was something I couldn’t do; all I could do was show him life was worth living and that he was, now, loved.
I could also protect him—and I would.19Megan“Stop that.”
I glanced up, distracted with my thoughts. “What?”
Zachary smiled at me, pulling my hand down. “Tugging at your ear.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it again.
He reclined back in his chair, sipping his coffee, regarding me with a smile. “You do that when you’re thinking—usually when you’re thinking too hard about something. Want to fill me in on what’s going on in that pretty head of yours this morning? You’ve been rather quiet since we got up.” He paused, frowning. “Was yesterday too much, Megan? Have I given you second thoughts about me?” His voice caught. “About us?”
I shook my head furiously. “No.”
“What is it then? Tell me.”
I looked past him to the window. The storm was gone; the sky blue and the sun glimmering on the water that lapped along the shore in long, lazy waves. The dogs had already been out scampering around the sand, happy the oppressive air had dissipated. Zachary had slept most of the night, exhausted from his emotional outpouring. I had held him, only dozing, ever vigilant to his movements and quiet mutterings when he would stir and tighten his grip, as if needing to know I was still there.
I smiled at him, clasping his hand that was stretched toward me on the table. “I’m a little tired. That’s all.”
“Megan.”
“I’m fine, Zachary.”
I couldn’t tell him why I had been unable to sleep. Images kept flashing though my mind of what happened to him. The thoughts of his skin burning, of the pain he endured, tore at my heart all night. Thinking about how alone he had been his entire life caused tears to soak into the pillow as I cried in silence for his loneliness. The fear I wasn’t what he needed, I couldn’t be strong enough to help him, or that the love I felt for him wouldn’t be enough, made my chest ache in suppressed worry.
“You’re exhausted. Did you sleep at all?”
“Not much,” I admitted.
“Why don’t you go back to bed, while I go into town? Ashley let me know some things I ordered arrived, so I’m going to pick them up.”
“I’m fine. I need to do a few things myself.”
“Like?”
“Check emails, laundry, tidy Karen’s place.” I gave him a knowing look. “The guest room is rather…messy.”
I was surprised to see the tips of his ears turn red as he nodded. “I imagine there are also a few dried up puddles…”
I couldn’t stop the giggle that broke from my lips, as I remembered the path of chaos we left behind. “I imagine so.”
“I feel like I should help you, since I was the cause of all the mess.”
I waved him off. “No. I can do it in between laundry and emails. Bring something for dinner and we’ll call it even.”
He winked. “I’ll even cook it.”
“Done.”
“Okay, so I’ll go into town, you do what you have to and we’ll meet back here later? Anything else you need?”
I shook my head. “Only you.”
His mouth and voice were warm as his lips lingered on mine. “You have me.”
I smiled as I watched him rinse out his mug and disappear to get ready. The last part of our conversation felt so normal. Planning our day, discussing dinner—knowing we’d be back together in a few hours.
I wanted to be normal for him. I wanted him to know what that felt like.