I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled Bell against me, wrapping her in my arms as best I could with the console in the way. I hated this vehicle at the moment, would’ve given anything to pull her into my lap and rock her like I wanted to. “I see you, Bell. And everything about you is beautiful.”

She cried harder then, pressing her face into my chest. I kept whispering the words over and over. “I see you.”

23

BELL

I knelt down, straining for the perfect angle to get in the final groove of the credenza. I folded the fine-grain sandpaper around my fingers, using my nails as the sharp edge required to refine each nook and cranny. I needed this today, this one simple thing I could control, one finite thing I could fix. My family might be beyond repair, my relationship with Ford a jumble of confusing emotions, but I had my workshop. I had my hands that could bring broken things back to life.

I moved my fingers back and forth along the groove, careful not to press too lightly or too hard. It was a delicate balance. There was always some pain involved in bringing a piece back to life. Layers of an old existence that needed to be stripped away so something new could emerge. Sometimes, I even found myself talking to the piece. Explaining that all of the hurt would be worth it in the end.

I didn’t have those words in me to say today. They wouldn’t have been believable, even to a piece of furniture. My sleep the night before had been fitful at best, peppered with nightmares and anxiety-filled dreams that had left my t-shirt and sleep shorts damp with sweat. I’d gotten up before the sun and had come out to the place where I always found solace.

It wasn’t packing its usual punch of relief today, though. I blew on the groove I had just sanded, clearing away the dust. That would do. I straightened, arching my back in a stretch and glancing at the clock on the wall. Shit. I needed to get showered and changed for work.

My stomach hollowed out at the thought of seeing Ford. Last night, he’d held me for at least half an hour as I’d cried everything out in the front seat of his SUV. When I’d finally gotten ahold of myself, I hadn’t known what to say. Things between us were changing, but I couldn’t let it go where I wanted it to. Friendship. It had to be enough. And as much as it killed, that meant putting a wall around my heart. No more tear-filled embraces or anything of the like.