Chapter 201

“Can we go to bed?” I whisper. I’m still so exhausted,

I want to stop thinking, just for one moment and forget

any of this, forget everything but what he feels like. I’m

not ready to be free of his arms around me giving me

much-needed serenity. I sniff back the last of my tears and lift my chin to him.

“Together? Same bed?” He’s wary and being gentle. He doesn’t want to presume anything, so I nod
and bring my eyes to his in the dim light.

“Don’t do anything more than hold me … I can’t … I just can’t do anything more than that, I don’t even
know if we can even do this.”

Even though I know I need this.

I close my eyes and rest against him, trying to calm all the inner protests and voices telling me how
pathetic and weak I am.

“We’ll take it every hour at a time, adjust to what you need. Just being with you is enough, neonata, it’s
always enough.” He slides up and scoops me into his arms like a child, letting the throw slide from us to
the floor almost gracefully.

He carries me, as though I’m fragile and ready to break, to the bedroom and lies me down gently on
the bed before moving back to give me space. Then he turns his back, so I can have privacy to
change.



I pull off my clothes, without hesitation, until only my underwear and the silk camisole remain then I
slide under the sheets. Being back in this room and in this bed with him, makes my heart lift a little, that
empty hopelessness moving away just enough to let me breathe. When he hears me sliding into the
sheets, he pulls off his clothes too, keeping only his boxers on and he slips in beside me. He waits
hesitantly to see if I want his touch, until I tug his hand toward me and he relaxes taking me back into
his arms, holding me tight then begins to stroke my hair softly.

“I love you so much.” His soft low huskiness makes me close my eyes and I trace my hands along his
powerful arms around me. My body is yearning for more than his embrace but is quietened by my
emotions building inside. I can’t bear to do more than this until I can push her out of my head if I ever
can. What he did with her, the confusion about what I want and all the emotions swirling up inside of
me waiting for release.

There’s a storm brewing inside of me and she’s not ready to give up the fight just yet but she needs this
for herself. She needs a break from the pain and he’s the only one who’s capable of giving it to her. A
lull in the storm to get my head straight with some much-needed rest and solitude from my own brain.

I snuggle down under the duvet and wrap my legs through his, without even thinking about what I’m
doing, in the way we have done a million times before. His deep steady breathing calms me
completely, the thoughts, aches, and pains, drift into numbness. I’m shocked at just how quickly I start
dosing off again, days of emotional insomnia finally catching up with me.

Weak, pathetic girl. Mommy’s little mirror image.

Shhhh, I’m nothing like her.

* * *

I yawn, stretching out like a satisfied cat in the silky comfortable bed, my mind taking moments to come
to terms with where I am. Fully rested for the first time in days and for a second, I forgot everything.



Jake is close by, his arms around my waist, his legs across mine but he’s sound asleep. I take a minute
to evaluate how I feel about waking up this way. I slowly pull myself free from his embrace and sit up in
the bed, pulling my knees to my chest and sighing.

Confusion still present? Check. Emotions all over the place? Check. Still not further forward in how I
feel about him. Check. Just friggin dandy!

It’s late in the day; past eleven am. I don’t remember the last time I slept this much so I sit and watch
him sleep a little longer. The longing to reach out and touch him is overwhelming me, so I slide out of
bed and go to the shower, locking the door for the first time ever. I’m not ready for anything to happen
between us and need some time alone to stand under the massaging jets of water and think of nothing.
I don’t regret being here or sharing a bed with him, my heart needs it and I meant it when I said I
wanted to come home. This is where I belong, and Sarah is right; the only way I can begin to forgive
him is by being here, surrounded by him and taking everything a day at a time. I don’t know when
things will feel better for me, but I love him, and I can’t bear for it to be the end. I need him.

Does this mean a part of me has made up my mind to give him a chance?

I stop for a moment to blink through this thought. I guess a part of me knew from drunk dialing him that
I wasn’t ready to end things. I wasn’t ready to live a Jake-less life, but it doesn’t mean I can’t walk
away. I need to see how this goes; see if I can move on and really get back to what we had.

If I can’t then I’ll go.

When I wander through to the bedroom draped in a warm fluffy robe, the bed is empty, and the covers
strewn messily, but the smell of coffee and food is wafting through the walls. I pull my robe tighter and
rub my hair with the towel, then leave it down to air dry; it’s at its waviest when damp.

The internal war inside of me seems to be giving me a break for now; it’s like she’s holding her breath,
just waiting to see how things develop. For once I’m glad of the lack of constant emotional torture, and



this new relative peace sweeping through me. I guess a decent night’s sleep with no night terrors has
helped immensely.

I wander through to find Jake sitting at the breakfast bar drinking coffee in T-shirt and sweatpants. He
looks better, less tired and ruffled, and has damp hair too. He smells divine. He’s trimmed his stubble
and sorted his hair. He looks like normal Jake, not the slightly tired and rumpled version of yesterday.
Something I wasn’t aware I was aching to see until now.

He smiles at me when I approach, wide and happy, uncovering a plate of croissants, bacon, and
pancakes for me; my breakfast of choice from one of my favorite local deli. I slide onto a stool beside
him and watch as he pours me an orange juice before sliding it in front of me with a peck on the cheek.
I pause at the affectionate touch; waiting for the pain or the image of her but nothing comes. Just the
warmth of his skin on mine. He seems to sense my hesitation but just goes back to his coffee without a
word. I’ve no clue about how we’re meant to do this, touching or not, cuddling or not. I’ve no idea if I
want it or not.

I’m ravenous, despite having zero appetite the last few days, and dig in in silence. I didn’t eat at all
yesterday, we’d slept the day and night away. Catching up on rest from days of emotional angst and
emotional insomnia; food has been the last thing on my mind.

I’m aware of Jake’s eyes on me a few times but concentrate on eating without looking his way. My
head is calmer today and I’m more positive, but there’s still a can of worms waiting to be opened; not
sure I even want to try to prize it open yet.

“What do you want to do today? Stay here and talk? Or go somewhere else and talk?” Jake’s voice
cuts into the quietness of my brain. He drops his fork and lifts his coffee mug, his eyes on my profile
watching me eat.



“Maybe we could go for a drive?” I say shyly. “I don’t really think there’s much left to say, to talk about I
mean … We can only see how it goes.” I swallow hard. I’ve no idea why this makes me nervous;
talking has never been my strong point but indecision is not something I’ve ever dealt with. It’s
knocking me off kilter, so I focus, a little more intently, on eating my food.

“I told you, Emma, whatever you want. If it’s to talk or not, if it’s to take you places and distract you or
even if it’s to sit in silence. Whatever you need, I just need you to tell me.” His fingers come to brush
my free hand and I watch, mesmerized, as he trails the tips over my knuckles laid on the countertop.
So softly, it’s barely a tickle, but it feels natural and right; my own body betraying me once again.

Pathetic, Emma.

“Right now, I don’t want to think anymore, Jake. I just want to relax and not feel anything for a little
while. Pretend that everything is normal.” I sigh heavily, pushing away PA Emma’s voice in my head.

“Don’t hide inside your own head, bambino. I know your impulse is to block it out and push it away with
all the other things that hurt you … But please not this. We have to deal with this properly, neonata, so
it never comes back to hurt us again.” He turns in his seat pulling my stool between his open knees, so
I’m nestled close to him. It seems letting him wrap himself around me all night has given him
permission to proceed with his touchy old Carrero self. I know I should be setting limits, making him
keep his distance but I don’t. My body is yearning for his soothing touch; a relaxing balm for me today. I
went days without it, and it was agony, now my body is making up for its loss.

“I know.” I can’t help glancing at him, his knuckles coming to graze my cheek gently, the fluttering inside
of me at his touch even now. I pull my face away and bite my lip as his hand drops between us, even
after what he’s done, I’m responding and feel angry at myself.


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