I pull her against my chest and kiss the side of her head.
“Holder, I’m so sorry,” she cries. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”
I tighten my grip around her and press my cheek to the top of her head. I close my eyes and I cry. I cry for her. I cry for Les. I cry for myself.
She curls her arms up behind my shoulders, gripping me tightly, then she presses her lips against my neck. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “He never would have touched her if I . . .”
I grab her by the arms and push her away from me so that I can look her in the eyes. “Don’t you dare say that.” I grab her face with both hands. “I don’t ever want you to apologize for a single thing that man did. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault, Sky. Swear to me you will never let a thought like that consume you ever again.”
She nods. “I swear.”
I continue to maintain eye contact with her, needing to know that she’s telling me the truth. This girl has done nothing that warrants an apology and I never want her thinking like that again.
She throws her arms around my neck, tears falling from both of us now. We hold each other tightly. Desperately. She kisses my neck repeatedly, wanting to reassure me in the only way she knows how.
I lower my lips to her shoulder and kiss her in return. She holds me tighter and I let her. I let her hold me as tight as she possibly can. I continue to kiss her neck and she continues to kiss mine, both of us working our way toward each other’s mouth. Before I reach her lips, I pull back and look into her eyes. She looks into mine and for once in my life, I can honestly say I’ve found the only other person in this world who understands my guilt. The only person who understands my pain. The only person who accepts that it’s who I am.
I used to think the best part of me died with Les, but the best part of me is standing right here in front of me.
In one swift movement, I crash my lips to hers and grip her by the hair. I push her against the shower wall and kiss her with so much conviction, I know she could never for a second doubt how much I love her. I slide my hands down her thighs and lift her up until she wraps her legs around my waist.
I press myself against her and continue kissing her, wanting to feel her, rather than the pain that’s trying to take over. I want nothing but to be a part of her right now and let everything else in our lives just fade away.
“Tell me this is okay,” I say as I pull away from her mouth and search her eyes. “Tell me it’s okay to want to be inside you right now . . . because after everything we’ve been through today, it feels wrong to need you like I do.”
She throws her arms around my neck and grasps my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers, showing me that she needs this just as much as I do. I groan and pull her away from the shower wall, then walk her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I drop her down onto the bed, then grab her panties and pull them down her legs. I crash against her mouth and pull off my boxers, which are now soaking wet. All I can think about is how much I need to be inside her right now. I pull apart from her long enough to get a condom on, then I grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed. I lift her leg to my side and slide my other arm underneath her shoulder.
She looks up at me and I look down at her. I grip her leg and her shoulder and keep my eyes trained on hers, then push into her. The second I’m inside her, it doesn’t feel like enough. I press my lips to hers and try to search for whatever it is that’s missing from the moment. I move in and out of her, more and more frantic with each thrust, trying desperately to reach a feeling that I don’t even know exists. She relaxes her body against mine, following my movements, allowing me to be in control.
But I don’t want that right now.
That’s what’s wrong with me.