Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“You’re my home,” she says, gutting me wide open. “I don’t know how to get rid of this fear, but I know I want to. I don’t want to be without you.”
“We’ll find you someone to talk to.” I assure her.
“I can’t be without you,” she reiterates.
“Then you’ll come on the boat with me. We’ll find a way to make it work until you’re strong enough,” I reassure her, running my fingers through her hair. “But you never leave me again without talking to me. The only times I have ever been afraid in my life have been the times I’ve been forced to think of a future without you.” I need her to understand that my fear is the same as hers.
“You don’t deserve that.”
“I don’t and neither do you, baby. That’s part of what you need to understand; you deserve happiness, just as much as anyone else. We deserve to be happy, Lea, to start a life together, to have babies, to watch them grow. We both deserve that,” I whisper the last part, and her body shakes against mine as new tears fall from her eyes. “The tears are killing me,” I tell her, kissing her forehead.
“I haven’t stopped crying. I don’t know what’s wr-wrong w-with me.”
“You have a lot you need to let go of. You can cry as long as you need to,” I reply, resting my hand over her stomach.
An hour later, when the tears haven’t died down and she still hasn’t slept, I kiss her forehead and move away from her. “Be right back, baby,” I whisper to her. She nods, curling into a ball and hugging my pillow against her chest. Grabbing a pair of sweats, I pull them on then find my phone and take it with me downstairs, where I call Keith and ask him if he can get me something that will help her sleep. When I get back upstairs, she’s still crying while staring out the window.
“Is everything okay?” she asks as I hand her a bottle of water.
“Keith is going to stop by and drop off something to help you sleep,” I tell her, helping her lie back down. She nods, but doesn’t say anything, just watches me closely. Twenty minutes later, the doorbell goes off and I kiss her forehead again, muttering “I’ll be right back. When I reach the kitchen Keith is looking through the glass door with his hands in his pockets and a concerned look on his face.
“She okay?” he asks, when I open the door.
Running my hand over my head I shrug. “She hasn’t slept. I don’t know how much of our history you know, but last night, I got stuck out in the storm. It took a while to make it into port, and by the time I got home, she was almost catatonic. She’s been crying since then, if not before, and she hasn’t slept.”
“Christ,” he mutters, looking toward the stairs. “Do you want me to check her out?”
“No, I don’t think that will help right now,” I tell him, and he nods then hands me a small bag.
“I put two pills in there. If she needs more after today, just have her call and I’ll get her a prescription.
“I appreciate this, man.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do,” I say, watching him leave, then I head back upstairs.
“What’s this?” Lea asks as I hand her a pill and the bottle of water I sat on her bedside table earlier.
“A sleeping pill,” I say, brushing some hair off her forehead. She nods, puts it in her mouth, and then takes a gulp of water. “It will all be okay, Lea.” I lie back down with her pulling her into my arms.
“I know.” She snuggles into me as I run my fingers up and down her arm. Only when she’s breathing evenly and her body has relaxed against mine do I feel myself relax. I know it’s going to take sometime for her to be okay but I know that we just made it through the worst of the storm.
Turning my head, I let my eyes roam over Lea as she stands at the mouth of the living room. Her hair is up on top of her head, and her eyes are no longer red from crying, but still look soft from sleep. “Hey.” Her soft voice washes over me, and I stop stirring the soup and hold out my hand towards her.
“Come here, baby.”
She moves to me slowly then wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face into my bare chest.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she mumbles, kissing over my heart.
“I was going to bring you some food.”
“Can we eat outside instead?”
“Sure, grab some bowls,” I tell her, pulling the sourdough bread out of the oven then filling both bowls with clam chowder, putting both on large plates.