Up until an hour ago, I had no idea that he had been holding me, so this time I need to make the conscious choice, and that is what he is pushing me to do. No matter how much I just hurt him, he is still opening himself up to me.

Once I take the first step into his room, there is no going back. Because if I stop moving forward, I will just continue to spiral backward, and I don’t want to do that anymore. It’s not who I am, or who I want to be.

But as soon as I crawl into his bed and his arms draw me to him, I can breathe again. And not that shallow in and out that just lets me survive. No, that deep soul-filling oxygen that lets my body step back from the edge of the cliff. As every breath fills my lungs, my body takes another step back onto more solid ground.

“I need you,” I whisper into his chest where I have buried my head to hear his steady heartbeat.

“I know.” It wasn’t an I-told-you-so moment but just a simple acknowledgment that we are both now on the same page. “Shhh, just rest.” I don’t know how he knows what I need before I do. It’s like he can read my body better than I can, and that scares me.

Just being in his arms is a warmth that fills my whole body. A sensation that I have denied myself for so long. I didn’t want to let someone in so they could hurt me, but more importantly, I didn’t think I was worth it. My father didn’t love me enough to stay and fight his way out of his mess, so if he didn’t, then no one else will either. I can’t take that risk. And although I am seeking comfort in Forrest’s arms, we both know this can’t be forever. I made that clear from the beginning.

But this is about me finding the answers I need.

It’s like his touch has poured strength into my body, and even though I’m still feeling so raw and vulnerable, it’s time.

“How many nights have you slept in my bed?” I question.

“Every night since the second night you moved in with me, but I don’t sleep. I just hold you until you are peaceful again and then leave.”

“How long does that take?” I ask.

“Sometimes an hour, sometimes two. But I won’t lie, I find it hard to leave you, so I stay longer, just holding you, wishing it was real.” The last few words are so quiet, I almost don’t catch them.

“Christ, Forrest, you must be exhausted.” I can’t help but feel guilty for his lack of sleep.

“No, I don’t care about that.” His reply is stern.