My heart warms at his calling me Tink, but that’s quickly washed away at the mention of some other woman he knows living in the building. I have no right to be jealous, because he isn’t mine, but it wreaks havoc inside, wrapping a fist around my heart.
I slam the bathroom door, clicking the lock into place, like a child throwing a temper tantrum. I should be thankful he came for me after I left without so much as a word, but being back here is fucking with my head.
“Rebecca, unlock the door right now! I won’t have something keeping you from me ever again,” he snaps while banging on the door. My level of immaturity drops another degree when I quietly mimic his words back to myself.
The banging stops and for a moment I think he has given up. “Tink, please, just unlock the door. What if you fall when you take your shower? It would slow me down getting to you. Think about your safety, the baby’s safety. You have a head injury, you could get dizzy or lose your balance.” I melt at his soft plea, and I rub my hand protectively over my belly.
I unlock the door and Bray opens it, but he makes no move to come into the bathroom. His eyes sweep over me and I can’t decipher the look on his face. It’s then I realize how disheveled he looks.
Bray is always so put together, but right now, while he still looks utterly handsome, he looks worn down. It doesn’t look like he’s slept in days, with the dark circles under his eyes, or shaved for that matter. He looks like he’s lost a little bit of weight, and his clothes look like he slept in them a few times. He looks defeated.
Seeing him like this, he’s still the most perfect man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and as terrible as it is to think, I can’t help but hope that maybe I’ve done this to him. That he has missed me so much that life has been unbearable. That I wasn’t suffering alone in the loss of us.
I can’t stand the distance between us and before I know it I’m right in front of him, reaching up and cupping his face, rubbing my thumb across his lightly scruffy beard. He leans into my touch, closing his eyes, like the contact is utterly soothing to him.
“Bray,” I whisper while still rubbing him with my thumb. “I love you. I’m sorry I left, and I’m not trying to push you away.”
He opens his eyes and softens at my confession. It feels like this is a big moment for the both of us since this is the first time we’ve both admitted our feelings. It’s scary to have the words out there, just sitting between us, but at the same time, it’s the most honest we’ve been.
Bray is always weighing the outcome of every situation and I can tell he’s still reluctant to put space between us, even if it’s only for a moment.
“Just let me take a shower. I haven’t bathed in days and I know it will make me feel better. I want to be clean for the doctor so she can get a good look at me.” When he still looks hesitant I say, “I’ll keep the door open,” and that seems to be enough.
When he nods his head, I start to drop my hand, but he grabs it, brings it to his mouth, and places a soft kiss on my palm. The simple touch of his mouth awakens my body in ways that I haven’t known since that last time I was with him.
“Okay, Tink,” he says, releasing my hand and stepping back.
I remove the shirt, thankful to finally be rid of it. Next go my panties, and I have the strong urge to burn both the items. When I glance over, Bray is still standing in the door, his eyes on my belly. A smile spreads across his face, giving him an almost boyish look.
At that moment, the doorbell chimes indicating that the doctor is here, but Bray makes no move to go and see who’s at the door.
“Bray?” I question, wondering if he’s going to get it. He looks towards the bedroom door then back at me as if he’s torn between not wanting to leave me, and knowing he has to let the doctor in. “I’m fine, I promise,” I say, trying to get him to go but he still just stands there. The doorbell chimes again. “Sweetheart, I’ll be right out, okay? I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
I see some of the tension in his body leave at my term of endearment, and for him it’s confirmation that I’m not leaving.
“It’s not like I could slip out without you seeing me, Bray. I’m not really a fairy, I can’t just fly away off the balcony,” I joke, but the look he shoots me is not one of amusement. His face has turned hard, making me miss the boyish grin he had moments ago. I kick myself for the stupid joke and for trying to lighten the mood.
“No, you won’t be flying anywhere, Rebecca. Consider your wings clipped,” he grits out before stomping from the room. His words have a dark promise to them. I like the idea of being stuck here with him, but not caged. The more I’m around Bray, the more I feel the walls pushing in.
It’s hard for me to tell who Bray is at times. Still a virgin at thirty-two, holds a gun like he knows what he’s doing with it, and runs a company worth God only knows how much. Knowing all that, I still want him. Maybe being caged wouldn’t be so bad, but the thought makes me anxious.
Shaking away the thoughts, I turn the shower on, scrubbing my body almost raw. I want every trace of Nico’s place off me.
I need to take one thing at a time. I’m getting ten feet ahead of myself, when I just need to think about finishing this day. Reaching for the shampoo, I notice it’s still mine he has in here. Glancing around the bathroom through the glass shower, I notice that a lot of the things Bray bought for me when I was staying with him are still where I left them. Untouched. Then I notice fresh bottles of hair dye sitting out on the sink, and I smile at how the bright colors contrast with his white bathroom. I’d taken the color out for the charity event thinking that was what Bray wanted. I was so bitter about it all, that shortly after I left him I put the color back in. If he bought me more dye, it must mean he likes it. Maybe I’ve been misreading him. The bottles are there, like they are waiting for me to come back, or maybe they’re for someone else.