Chapter forty-three
Ben
I wake slowly, aware of her warmth before anything else.
Antonia’s arm drapes across my stomach, her hair splayed on my chest. Her head rests over my heart as it beats steadily underneath. The sheets are twisted around our legs, the room still smelling faintly of skin and sweat in the aftermath of last night.
Hell, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t let her go anymore.
Yesterday was… special. Different. Something I’ve never experienced.
She talked about building walls, but we took them down bit by bit, slowly but surely, together.
She snores softly.
I lie still, trying not to wake her, because this is perfect.
The window’s cracked open. I can hear London beginning to rise, the cars driving down the street, people going about their day, horns blaring.
After she cried, like really cried, I carried her to bed. There’d been nothing else to do. We just needed each other then, both of us sitting there with the loss we’d lived with. Hers and mine.
I kissed her softly, almost like a promise. Like showing her that this was it. I was here, and I wasn’t letting go.
She surrendered, strong and beautiful as always, but she accepted me for who I was, as I did her. Two adults broken by their pasts, finding some happiness in their future.
Then we made love. Pure, uncomplicated bliss.
My phone lights up on the bedside table with a message from Savannah.
After last night, I’m not even sure I want to talk to her. I understand her hurt, and I know I overstepped, but there was no need to embarrass Antonia like that.
Morning, Dad. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me.
I stare at the screen.
Savannah never apologizes. It’s one of her faults. It’s also a fault I had myself as a young man.
My heart breaks for my daughter. So much destruction in her life, so young, and now in her early twenties, trying to build her own future while watching the skeleton of my life that has fallen apart more times than it stayed together.
I can’t blame her for lashing out.
I was wrong.
I know I was.
You were right to be angry. I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I love you.
“Morning.”
The whisper drifts up from my chest. I glance down. Antonia peeks up at me from under her eyelashes. I pop a kiss on her forehead. It feels so natural.
“Last night,” she says.
“Last night was beautiful, Antonia. Beautiful. Thank you for trusting me with that.”
She blushes, her cheeks turning the most stunning shade of pink. Her whole complexion lightens along with my heart. The tension of yesterday is gone.
“I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much, but it felt good. A relief.”