I matched my breathing to hers and let her sleep.
Chapter twenty-nine
Floating
I woke up before Dex. For a while I just lay there listening to him breathe. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his head, chest rising and falling slow, his face completely relaxed. I didn’t know if he had taken the sleeping pills or if he really just simply slept better with me beside him. Either way he looked peaceful.
For the past few days he had been the only thing keeping me upright. Not asking for anything in return. Just making sure I was okay.
I thought about what Nel said in the car yesterday before the world tilted on its axis. He had pushed for us to figure out whatwe were, but looking at Dex now I still knew I needed to move slow. The love was there. The trust was a bridge we were still building, brick by brick. I wasn’t ready to slap a label on it yet, not when I was still trying to figure out who I was on the other side of what Stella told me last night.
My mind didn't stay on Dex for long. It spiraled, landing right back on the image of Stella’s face at dinner.
A product of rape.
That was my new reality. I was a face my mother couldn't even stand to look at for years because I looked like the monsters who broke her. I wondered how Grandma Anne could have kept that from me. We were so close. We spent hours on the porch having deep talks about life and God and everything in between, and she sat across from me holding that secret every single time.
I had asked her about Stella and who my father was more times than I could count. Grandma would always deflect. She’d tell me that Noah, my grandfather who died when I was twelve, and God were all the father I ever needed. She’d say Stella loved me in her own special way, but that she was human, and humans will always disappoint you because they are so imperfect.
The memory brought a fresh wave of silent tears to my eyes. I thought those talks were the truth, but they were just a beautiful cage Grandma built to keep me from the dark.
"Baby," Dex rasped.
I didn't even realize he was awake until I felt his hand move to my waist. I looked up at him, my face already wet.
“Damn baby,” he said, his hand coming up to brush the tears from my cheek. “You breaking my heart with all this crying. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
The words poured out of me like a dam breaking. I told him everything Stella said in the middle of Chambao. I told him about the party, the roommates, and the fact that she didn't even know which one of them gave me my eyes.
Dex didn't say anything at first. He just pulled me closer, his grip tightening as if he could shield me from the truth after it had already hit me. I could feel the shock in his body, the way his muscles tensed under mine. He looked heartbroken, his brow furrowing as he watched me fall apart all over again.
"What can I do?" he whispered, his voice vibrating against my ear. “Tell me what you need right now Nique.”
I didn't have the words to answer him. I didn't want to talk anymore. I just wanted to feel something other than the hollow ache in my chest.
I reached up and pulled him down to me. I kissed him with a desperate kind of hunger, my tongue sliding against his as I shifted my weight on top of him. I started rubbing my body against his, signaling exactly what I needed. I needed to feel alive. I needed to feel wanted.
He rolled us over slowly until he was hovering above me, his weight on his forearms, eyes searching my face in the morning light.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” I said.
He entered me slowly, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time, and something about being seen like that, completely and without anywhere to hide, made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with pain.
“You are not a mistake,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You hear me? Not even close.”
My throat tightened.
He moved with a slow deliberate rhythm, his forehead dropping close to mine. “You are my answered prayer. You have always been my answered prayer.”
I pulled him closer, my arms wrapping around him, tears sliding down my face again but differently this time. Not fromgrief. From something that felt like being seen all the way down to the part of yourself you never let anyone near.
“You are beautiful,” he said against my temple. “Every part of you. The soft parts and the parts with walls twelve feet thick.” He pressed his lips there. “All of it.”
The heat between us built slowly, reverently, until it was all I could feel. When I finally came apart it was quiet and complete, my whole body trembling, his name somewhere in my throat that never quite made it out. He followed close behind, holding me through it, and afterward he didn’t move away. He stayed, his weight grounding me, his breathing slowing gradually against my skin.
After a long while he lifted his head and looked at me.