Let Me Heal You: Beautifully Broken Book 3

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Let Me Heal You: Beautifully Broken Book 3 Page 5

by Samantha Wolfe


  "All those nights alone in the hospital, I couldn't sleep without you. I missed you so much." His voice began to break. "I almost cost us everything, and I don't want to waste anymore time. I know what I want. I want you. I want to be with you as much as I can, and I don't want to sleep alone anymore. I need you."

  Wow. Just, wow. He had never been this frank about his feelings for me before. Something shifted inside him since last Saturday. I guess a near-death experience could do that, make time feel more fragile and fleeting.

  "I'm scared," I whispered, tears welling up at his sweet words.

  "If you need some time to think about it, I understand, baby. It's a big decision," he said reassuringly, his face focused and sure. "But know this, I'm not scared. I love you, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

  "I love you too," I said and reached out to him. He took my hand in his again and held it tight for the rest of the way home.

  **********

  Jensen's phone rang not long after we got to his place. He looked at the screen, then answered it with a tight smile.

  "Hey, Mom." He greeted her warmly, but the sudden tightness around his eyes betrayed his unease. He was still struggling with talking to his family, and the guilt he felt whenever he was around them. I knew he was afraid of having another panic attack too. He started pacing across the living room, his eyes darting all over the place as he listened to his mother. "No, I'm not going anywhere tonight," he replied, then paused to listen again. He stopped for a moment as his eyes glanced over to where I sat on the couch watching him. "Yeah, Sydney is here." He started pacing again, his jaw tightening and his free hand running nervously through his hair. "That sounds good, Mom. We'll be here." He closed his eyes and sighed. "Love you too. Bye." He ended the call and just stood there with his head down, rubbing his temples with a thumb and index finger.

  "Jensen?" I asked with concern. He dropped his hand and met my eyes. He looked terrified.

  "Mom is coming over with Annie and the kids," he announced with no inflexion whatsoever. I stood and went to him. I took his phone, that was hanging limply at his side in his right hand, and placed it on the coffee table. I pulled him into an embrace, and he clung to me tightly. His breathing was heavy and his body tense.

  "I'm here with you," I reassured him. "You're not alone. We'll get through this, and you'll be fine." I felt him relax infinitesimally.

  "I don't want to lose it front of the kids," he whispered as he buried his face in my hair.

  "You could take some anti-anxiety meds," I suggested. "It might help."

  "I don't want to take anymore of that shit," he said as he hugged me even tighter. "I don't like the way they make me feel like a fucking zombie."

  I understood how he felt exactly. Some of those meds packed a wallop, and made you drowsy and lightheaded. I'd been on a few of them myself after I tried to kill myself. I let him hold me for as long as he needed to, and when he finally lifted his head, he seemed a little calmer, but his eyes still looked a little wild. I placed my hands on the sides of his face.

  "Do you need to call David?" I asked him as he met my eyes.

  "I don't fucking know," he answered quietly, his brows furrowing.

  "Baby, it's okay to need help, and it's okay to ask for it."

  He looked down uncomfortably.

  "You're being a stubborn asshole again," I said with a small smile.

  "I know," he answered me with a snort. I stepped back from our embrace and picked his phone up. I grabbed his right hand and wrapped his fingers around the phone.

  "Just go upstairs and call him," I insisted. "He offered to help you, so take that help. You need it."

  "Alright," he said reluctantly.

  I watched him turn and head upstairs. I sat back down on the sofa with a sigh. I turned on the television and tried to focus on the local news, but I realized that I was feeling stressed over his family's visit too. Every time I saw them, all I could think about was how I had almost cost them Jensen. I don't know why they didn't blame me or why they still wanted anything to do with me. I thought that this guilt would fade once Jensen was back home, but it hadn't and after seeing him lose it last night it had gotten worse. I wanted to tell him about it, but he was struggling so much with his own problems that I didn't want to add more stress to his life right now. Eventually, Jensen came back downstairs, his face looking less panicked than it had before.

  "Better?" I asked him as he slumped down on the couch next to me.

  "I think so," he answered me and took my hand in his. I think he was about to say something else when the doorbell rang. He inhaled in a rush, his hand tightening around mine.

  "Breathe, baby," I reminded him. "Just breathe. We'll get you through this."

  He exhaled and nodded, before rising to answer the door. A few moments later Olivia, his three-year-old niece, came barreling into the room with her blond pigtails flying, followed closely by seven-year-old Quentin at a more sedate pace. Olivia flung herself into me with a squeal as she climbed onto my lap, while Quentin stopped in front of me and smiled.

  "Hi, Sydney," he said brightly as he climbed up onto the couch next to me.

  "Hi, Quentin." I smiled back at him, realizing just how much he looked like his father in that moment. They both had the exact same dark eyes and smile, and now I knew why Jensen had such a hard time being around this stark reminder of his brother.

  "Olivia," Annie scolded from the hallway, "stop climbing all over Sydney." She was juggling a large cardboard box and a shopping bag as she smiled at me.

  "Need some help?" I asked as I extricated myself from Olivia. I followed Annie toward the kitchen with Olivia right on my heels.

  "No," she answered warmly. "I've got it."

  Jensen was already in the kitchen with his mother, watching her pull plates out of one of his cupboards with a blank look on his face. He seemed oblivious to what was going on around him, and I realized he was starting to shut down. I walked over to him and put my palm on his chest gently. The contact pulled him out of it enough to focus on my face. I smiled reassuringly up at him, and his eyes softened with affection.

  "It's good to see you, Sydney," Erika said, and I turned to find her smiling warmly at me. I returned the smile as best as I could as the guilt swamped me again. She set the plates down on the table, then wrapped me up in a hug that almost made me cry.

  "We brought dinner," Annie announced as she started pulling food containers out of the box that she set on the counter in front of her.

  "Why don't you set the table, honey," Erika said to Jensen, who nodded and started silently setting the table. I went over to help Annie get all the food out. Within minutes, we were all sitting at the table eating.

  The conversation around the table was light and easy, with Erika and Annie asking about my job and sharing funny stories about Quentin and Olivia. Jensen said practically nothing and sat picking at his dinner through it all. I was starting to worry about him. He seemed so lost, and when Erika mentioned an offhand comment about Hugo, Jensen's father, his eyes turned wild and panicked. He abruptly rose from the table, excused himself with a mumble, and practically ran out of the room. The three of us shared a look of concern.

  "Is Uncle Jensen okay?" Quentin asked his mother as he watched our faces with a worried expression.

  "He's just upset, sweetie," Annie assured him with a soft smile. "He'll be fine."

  "I'll go check on him," I said as I rose to go after him. Erika nodded gratefully to me before I turned to leave the room. I went upstairs and found Jensen sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. I sat down next to him and put my arms around him.

  "I can't do this, baby," he whispered raggedly as he sat up and looked at me. "I can't fucking do it. David told me I had to stop avoiding things, but my head is all twisted up. I had to leave before I freaked out in front of the kids."

  "Jensen," I said gently. "You can't expect to have it all figured out right away. This is a process. It's no
t going to happen overnight."

  "I just want it to go away," he whispered as tears welled up in his eyes.

  "I know, baby." I hugged him tighter. "Let's just sit here for a bit until you calm down, and then we'll go back downstairs to try again. Alright?"

  "Okay," he agreed reluctantly, his eyes full of doubt. He grabbed my hand and pulled it into his chest, cradling it there gently. He closed his eyes and started taking slow deep breaths in and out, trying to calm himself. After a while, it seemed like it was working.

  "Are you ready to try again?" I asked him gently as I squeezed his hand.

  "I think so."

  "See?" I said triumphantly as I stood in front of him. "You're not avoiding anything. You just needed a break to calm down." He nodded at me dubiously, but let me pull him upright then followed me out of the room.

  All eyes were on Jensen as he walked back into the kitchen and sat at the table. Erika and Annie turned worried eyes on me as I sat next to him. I nodded reassuringly at them, and we continued our meal. The conversation was more subdued now, and no one mentioned Jensen's little breakdown. He seemed to do better this time, even if he still didn't say anything.

  By the time dinner was over though, I could tell he was feeling overwhelmed again. Annie and his mother must have picked up on it, and they didn't stay much longer after that. When they finally left, Jensen was so stressed out he ended up pacing around the living room again.

  "You did it, baby," I told him after walking his family out. "You did great."

  "Did what great?" he growled. "I just sat there doing nothing. I couldn't even talk to my own fucking family."

  "Jensen," I pleaded.

  "I'm going to take a fucking shower," he grumbled and went upstairs without even looking back at me. I sat down on the couch feeling defeated and alone. I stayed there wallowing for a while, until I got angry and couldn't take it anymore.

  "Fuck this," I mumbled under my breath and went upstairs, determined not to let Jensen get in his own way. He needed to know that today was a victory for him, whether he'd admit it or not.

  **********

  I could hear the shower running as I walked into the bedroom. I took off all my clothes quickly, and walked into the bathroom. Jensen was standing still, leaning his forearms against the tile wall of the shower with his head bowed; the hot water beating down on him. His back was to me, so he didn't see me walk in. I opened the shower door quietly, and stepped into the stream of warm water. I pressed myself against his back, wrapping my arms around his slim waist. I felt some of the tension in his body bleed away at my touch.

  "I'm sorry, Sydney," he said tiredly as he lowered one of his hands and covered mine with it. "I shouldn't have left you down there like that."

  "It's okay," I told him as I hugged him tighter. "You were pretty stressed."

  "I just want things the way they used to be," he continued. "I want to feel like I belong in my own skin again. I'm so tired of all this. So fucking tired, baby. How am I supposed to go on like this?"

  I shivered at his words, thinking about his suicide message on my phone. "Don't say things like that," I said vehemently. "It scares the shit out of me."

  He abruptly turned in my arms to face me, his hands coming up to cradle my face as his eyes fixed on mine. "Baby, I promise I'm not going to hurt myself again, and I'm never touching a drop of fucking alcohol again either."

  I pursed my lips dubiously as I met his gaze. I wanted to believe him, but I was terrified that he'd try to hurt himself again and succeed. He was a determined man, and if he really wanted to die, he'd do it without warning anyone next time. "I'm scared," I whimpered as tears filled my eyes. "I don't want you to die."

  "I don't want to die either, baby," he insisted. "I swear to God. I want to be here with you." He caressed his thumb across my lips. "I love you." He pulled me into his arms and held me tight against him, our bodies pressed together as the warm water cascaded down on us.

  "I love you, too." I told him. "And no matter what you think, I'm proud of what you did tonight." I felt him take in a breath and let it out with a deep sigh.

  "I felt so out of control, like I was just barely holding myself together," he said quietly. "I feel like a failure." His voice sounded so fragile and disheartened.

  "You are not a failure," I told him fiercely as I pulled back and gripped the sides of his face. "Can't you see this night as the victory it was for you? You wanted to run, but you stayed. You stayed. I'm so proud of you."

  "You're not ashamed of me?" he whispered, his eyes uncertain.

  "I've never been ashamed of you. Never," I reassured him. I laid my cheek against his chest and let him hold me, feeling the tension finally leaving his body. That was all he really needed to know, that I wasn't ashamed of him. He needed someone to believe in him, even if he wasn't able to believe in himself just yet.

  Jensen's right hand drifted down my back, until his palm rested on my ass. I could feel his erection growing against my belly. He ground himself against me with a low groan. I lifted my head to look at his face, and the raw animalistic need I saw in his eyes made me gasp. A rush of desire hit me, making me melt into him with a sigh. He crushed his lips against mine, kissing me with a harsh desperation that kindled my arousal. His hands slid up into my hair, pulling my head back for better access to my mouth. I moaned into his deepening kiss, reveling in his unbridled desire for me. He pulled his lips from mine with a gasp.

  "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you," he growled at me. "I want you all the time. I can't fucking get enough of you."

  "Then take it," I told him in a rough voice. "Take me now."

  He suddenly spun me around with a feral growl, grabbing my hip and bending me forward with his palm between my shoulders, until I rested my hands on the tile wall for support. He rubbed the tip of his cock through my already soaking wet folds, then slammed into me abruptly, the force making me gasp. The small bite of pain made the pleasure that much sweeter.

  "So fucking good," he forced out between clenched teeth as he powered into me again and again. "So fucking good, baby."

  I wailed as the first orgasm exploded out of me, the pleasure bursting out of my core and rushing through me like a tidal wave. He reached forward and grabbed my hair, wrapping it in his fist and arching my head back; his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. He started growling raggedly with every thrust, and I came again, so hard and intensely that I stopped breathing for a moment.

  "That's it baby," he groaned. "Come for me."

  I felt my insides rippling around him violently. He moaned with the sensation, his rhythm faltering. His grip in my hair tightened painfully as he pressed deeply into me, his cock pulsing as he found his release. He ground out his climax into me, his breaths harsh ragged gasps.

  "Oh, fuck," he panted. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

  He pulled me upright and wrapped me in his arms from behind, one arm around my waist, the other rising to cradle my face. He pressed our cheeks together. The possessive embrace made me feel safe and protected. He moaned again and this time I realized it wasn't from pleasure. I felt him start to tremble.

  "Do your ribs hurt?" I asked him worriedly.

  "Yeah, but I'll be fine," he whispered. "It was worth it. That felt so good."

  I nodded wordlessly as he nuzzled his face into my neck, pressing gentle kisses into my skin. Then he stepped back, grabbing the soap off the nearby shelf and proceeded to wash me from head to toe, his hands gliding all over me. He washed my hair with firm hands, massaging my scalp and making me moan in pleasure. He pulled me into the stream of warm water and rinsed me off, then kissed me softly.

  "My turn," I whispered into his mouth, and he smiled then stepped back. I grabbed the bar of soap and returned the favor, savoring every inch of his powerful body. He watched my every move, his eyes filled with warm affection.

  "I love it when you take care of me," he whispered. "It makes me feel loved."

  "You are loved," I assured him.
/>   "I know," he said his face softening. "I know," he repeated and placed his hand on his chest. "It's a part of me now. I can feel it."

  I stared up at him in amazement. His eyes were calm and sure. He had finally let my love in, accepted it into his heart, embraced it as his. I rested my hand on top of his, a smile spreading across my lips.

  "So can I, baby. So can I."

  **********

  "How did last night go?" David asked me from across the table. We had just finished eating in the small bistro that I had met him for lunch. I had driven here from work after having Jensen drop me off at home this morning to get my car. It was David's last Friday off before he started work again on Monday, and he was making the most of it by meeting me here.

  "I think it went well," I told him. "Jensen had to leave once to catch his breath, but he made it through it alright."

  "How did he feel about it?" David asked.

  "He told me he felt like a failure since he barely said a word the whole time his family was there. He's so hard on himself," I confessed. "I think I convinced him that just being there and not running away was a huge step for him."

  "Good," David said. "It's going to be a long road, and he needs to recognize that even small steps are still successes."

  "He's trying so hard," I said sadly. "I wish I could make it easier for him."

  "You are, sweetheart," David said with a warm smile. "Just being there for him and loving him makes it easier." I nodded with pursed lips, not completely convinced.

  "How are you doing?" he asked me as he cocked his head. "Are you doing okay? You've been through one hell of a stressful week."

  "I'm pretty stressed right now," I confessed. "Between everything with Jensen and Lauren moving out, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

  "Lauren is moving out?" David asked with concern.

  "Yeah, she told me a couple of days ago. She's moving in with Adam."

  "Are you going to stay in that apartment?" he asked.

  "I don't think so," I answered him. "I can't afford it by myself, and I really don't want to live with some stranger."

 

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