Page 65 of The Sinner


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“Why are you d-doing this?”

“Because I fucking care about you. That’s why.” My forehead pressed against the door, my fingers gripping the unforgiving lip of the molding.

What was she thinking? What was she going through? Why was she keeping it from me?

“Whatever you’re hiding from, whatever you’re running from, whatever the case is, you don’t have to feel that way with me.”

There was silence.

“Let me in.”

More quietness ticked from the other side of the door until, finally, there was the sound of the chain moving and the lock turning, the door gradually opening just enough that her face appeared through the narrow crack.

“Baby,” was what left my mouth before I could stop it.

But, goddamn it, I had zero regrets as it did.

Especially because I was taking in her flushed cheeks and puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Whatever makeup was left was smudged, the tears bringing the black flecks down her face.

I opened the arm that wasn’t holding her food. “Come here.”

A hand went over her mouth, her eyes filling even faster. “If I do that, I’ll lose it.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

I reached through the doorway, my fingers wrapping around her waist. I wanted nothing more than to take the fucking door off the hinges and pull her against me. But her emotion was preventing me from doing anything that aggressive. I certainly didn’t want to upset her more than she already was.

“I want to come in, Lily.” When she didn’t move, I added, “I just want to hold you.”

As her hand left her mouth, her lips quivered, and she backed away, releasing the door so it began to shut. As if that was my cue, I grabbed the edge, pushing it open enough that I could step in. I set the food on the floor and wrapped my arms around her. As I pulled her against me, she felt weightless, as though she were the size of a doll and I was a giant, and I squeezed my body around her.

My lips went to the top of her head, and I breathed her in. “I’ve got you.”

The clothes she had been wearing earlier were off. The only thing covering her now was a towel, but even if she was cold, I didn’t believe that was the reason she was shaking.

“I’m not going to let you go,” I whispered into her skull.

She became more emotional, her body quivering even harder.

So, I held the side of her head, pressing her other cheek onto my chest, and placed my thumb under her eye. I didn’t want her to have tears, I certainly didn’t want them to fall, but if they did, I wanted to be there to catch them.

Fuck, what would cause her to cry this hard?

I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to break this moment and make her talk about something that was obviously tearing her up.

But, shit, I wanted her to open up to me. I wanted to do more than just hold her.

I wanted to take whatever was eating at her and make it stop.

She gripped my shirt, clenching it into her fist, and when I thought she was going to use the tension to push me away, she did the opposite.

She held on tighter.

“Baby …” I exhaled again, but this time, she could feel the word as it came out of me.

I didn’t let go.

I didn’t move my mouth from her head.

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