I barely process the large form staggering up to my window as I wipe my eyes frantically, trying to look less like a fucking infant crying in my car. But rather than just knocking on it, the person yanks open my door.

It’s James.

Holy fuck, now I’m shaking all over again.

“Jesse, oh my God.” His voice breaks as he reaches inside the car and grasps my face with cold hands, looking me over for any sign of damage. “Are you alright?? Are you hurt?”

My breathing is still too labored to answer him. So I simply nod. And keep nodding while he launches his entire torso into the car and takes me in his arms, hugging me to an almost strangling degree.

But it feels good. It feels so good in this moment, I’m crumbling to pieces in his arms.

“Baby, I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers into the crook of my neck, breath warming me as he practically climbs into the driver seat, clutching me for dear life. “I thought you were gone… I can’t lose you, too, baby. I can’t fucking lose you, too.”

My cries have gone silent, but they’re still there as I grip him tight, pulling him and keeping him here, because I need it. I need him. I need everything he is right now.

He’s all I have, and he’s all I need. It’s tormenting, this kind of reliance. But I’ve never noticed how much so until I left the house today.

And he came after me…

He fucking came after me.

“I’m… s-so… g-glad you’re… h-here…” I quake in his arms, my breaths working overtime just to get the words out.

James strokes my hair with his long fingers, clutching me to his chest. “It’s okay, Jess. I have you. Just breathe, baby. You’re alright.”

My heart thumps to expand in my chest, breaking free from the chains of hurt, bleeding for this man. If there was ever a question as to the pain of love, a moment like this would be the answer.

It’s crippling, my love for him.

We stay like this for many minutes, until my breathing finally evens out a bit, and his grip feels less like he’s trying to hold me together, and more like he’s just holding me. Caring for me and comforting me. Two things James has always been good at.

Prying us apart, he pulls back to look down at me, taking in the sight of my face; I’m sure nothing but wide, red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks and wet lips. Hopefully no snot, but who knows. I’ve been crying for what feels like hours.

James reaches down and pushes the seat back, shifting me effortlessly as he climbs into the driver’s side of the vehicle, positioning me half on his lap and closing the door. I peek over at the passenger side, wondering if he could have just gotten in there. But it’s engulfed in snow. I guess I skidded right into that snowbank, and only the left side of my car is accessible.