His Everything (Not Just Friends 2)
Leaning back and staring at his face, his dark hair seemed even darker now that it was wet. The spiky strands were plastered to his forehead and also sticking up. She smoothed her hand over his hair, rose on her toes, and kissed him.
“You’re my world, too,” she said against his lips. “And I’m glad you kicked their asses, glad you didn’t back down. They deserved everything they got and more.”
He smoothed his hands up and down her back, but didn’t make anything sexual. He just held her. “I love you.” The sound of the water beating against the tiles didn’t drown out the emotion in his voice.
“I love you, too.”
His arms tightened around her. “I don’t know how to be a good man, not unless I’m with you, Poppy.” He framed her face with his hands and stared down at her. “I don’t know how to be good enough for you, but I’ll try. I’ll keep trying until the day I die.”
She couldn’t help but smile, or help the tears that filled her eyes and the emotion that clogged her throat. He’d already proved what a good man he was, ten times over throughout the years, but hearing him say it with so much love and determination had her closing her eyes and thanking the heavens things worked out the way they did.
17
“I’m so glad you decided to come back, Ace, and I assume this is Lauren?”
Ace nodded after the therapist spoke. He looked over at Lauren, saw her shift on the couch, and wondered if this had been a bad idea suggesting she come with him. This was only the second session he’d had, but he thought that bringing her along, letting her hear some of the things that he’d been through, the things he’d kept from her because they were god-awful and made him feel ashamed, might help them progress forward in their relationship. Hell, this might push them farther apart, but he had to show her he was trying to be better.
“Lauren, how about we start off by you telling me how you feel about coming here today with Ace?”
Lauren looked over at him, and the smile she gave him helped Ace relax on the couch a bit. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Well, he told me he came here the first time, and I was surprised, but very proud of him for doing something I know probably made him uncomfortable.” She didn’t pull her gaze from his as she spoke. “And when he asked me to come with him I knew that the man I know to be good, who has a heart of gold but was dealt a shitty hand, was trying so hard to be better.”
“And Ace, why don’t you tell me how you feel with Lauren being here?”
Ace stared at Lauren. “I feel like I’m looking at my future, like my entire world is right in front of me, and that I’d do anything to make sure I don’t fuck that up.” He looked at the doctor. “Screw it up, sorry.”
She smiled, obviously not caring that he’d cursed. “Is there anything you wanted to specifically address at today’s session, something you want Lauren to be aware of?”
He looked at the therapist, saw her writing down some notes, and took a deep, slow breath. “She knows a lot about what happened, but I’ve held things back, things that I was ashamed about that my father did, ashamed of the things I did.”
“It’s okay,” Lauren said and squeezed his hand. “There isn’t anything you could say or do that would make me think any less of you, that would make me turn my back on you, Ace.”
The therapist stayed silent, and all Ace could do was stare at Lauren. “You know he’d beat me, lock me in closets, but what you didn’t know—” Ace closed his eyes, feeling disgust and shame wash over him. “What you don’t know, because I never wanted you to, was that there was one time he touched me.” When he opened his eyes he saw the sympathy and horror wash over Lauren’s face.
“Oh, Ace.”
He hated that she felt sorry for him. Even when he’d first told her about the abuse she was his strength, his rock, and she’d never given up on him. “It was only once when he was on a bender. When I hit him hard enough to have his eyes swell shut he backed off. He had been so drunk he hadn’t even remembered what he’d done, or tried to do the following day.” Ace started shifting on the couch, extremely uncomfortable with how this was going. He felt like honey covered his flesh, thick, suffocating, and like he would never be clean.
“Why do you think he only did it the one time?”