Page 35 of Trusting a Warrior

“I was standing there in shock, wondering what I’d just heard, when Rhys burst in shouting. He pushed past me and ran into the basement, then almost immediately came flying back up. His face was—I’ll never forget—”

Geo squeezed her shoulder as she fought for control. “I’m sorry, Lani. No wonder you two are close.”

“We clung to each other, you know? For months I couldn’t even let him out of my sight. He’d sneak into my room every night because the nights were the worst, for both of us.”

“And eventually—”

“Yes. He was my first, I was his first, and because we didn’t know any better, we took all of that trauma, all of that clinginess, added sex to the mix and called it love.”

“I’m sure he really does love you,” Geo said gently. “Of course he does.”

“Well, he deserves to find out who he is without my codependent mess of a life dragging him down,” she said. “And I deserve more than pity masquerading as love.”

Too bad it’s taken us ten years to realize both those things, huh, Rhys?

Geo’s hand slid down her arm, squeezed once, then fell away to rest in his lap. She appreciated the steadiness of his gaze despite the tinge of discomfort she could see in his eyes.

“Thanks for listening,” she said at last. “I know it’s not an easy story to hear.”

“I know it’s not an easy story to tell. I’d, uh, love to give you a hug, but I wouldn’t want you to think it’s pity.”

With a cross between a laugh and a sob, she scooted closer. “Hey, if you’re offering pity-free hugs, I gladly accept.”

Geo opened his arms, and she went into them to nestle against his broad chest. He held her close, his heart a steady thump beneath her ear, the familiar male scent of spicy deodorant and fabric softener tickling her nose. She let out a quiet sigh.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No.” His voice was a low rumble. “My dad got sick when I was still pretty young. They chose not to have any more.”

“How old were you when he died?”

“Eleven.”

She splayed her palm over his chest. “I’m sorry. Such a rough age to lose a parent.”

“Everyone kept telling me to be strong for my mom, that I was now the ‘man of the house.’” He winced, as if ashamed of the bitterness in his tone.

“So many times people forget that children need to grieve, too,” she whispered, her thumb moving in a slow circle. “They give all their support to the parent, or the spouse, while the children are told to be ‘strong.’”

The painful memories stabbed into her like a million tiny needles, of childish bewilderment and a desperate need for attention smashing up against an impenetrable wall of grief time and time again. She’d had Rhys to cling to, but who did Geo have?

“At eleven I didn’t have a clue how to be strong,” he went on roughly, “so I got angry instead, and rebellious. I was a fucking nightmare, to be honest, so it was a relief for both of us when she finally kicked me out at seventeen.”

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“Obligatory birthday and Christmas calls, mostly. We never had the chance to really get to know each other, so the only thing we have in common is my dad being sick, then my dad dying. It’s so much less painful not to talk at all.”

“Well, I was a different kind of nightmare after Tyler’s death,” she said. “Needy, bordering on self-destructive. My parents and I definitely have our own healing to do, so yeah, I know exactly where you’re coming from with your mom.”

Geo went quiet for a long moment. “It’s a shitty club to be in, isn’t it?” he said at last.

“The worst. But it’s nice to know another member.”

He rested his cheek on her hair in silent acknowledgment, his arms tight but not restrictive. Lani soaked in the comfort he offered and wallowed in it for as long as she could, before reluctantly pulling away. The last thing she needed was to start clinging to someone else.

To fill the void, she clicked on the TV and scrolled aimlessly through the channels, settling on an old rerun of Law & Order. The warmth of his body next to her, along with the emotional mood swings of the evening, soon had her curled up in one corner of the couch, her eyelids doing touch-and-gos.

At one point she woke with a start to find him gone. A massive wave of disappointment swamped her. “Just great,” she groused, struggling to her feet to find her phone. “Real smooth. Fall asleep on the guy after he’s been so sweet.”