Page 81 of The Killer Card

“What did you mean,” I ask, brushing curls back from Naomi’s face where she lays next to me in her bed. “When you said you nearly died?”

She hesitates, though it appears to be a fight in her soul to not tell me what she wants to. I kiss her temple once, her nose twice. “You can tell me, mi reina. I can take it.”

Naomi swallows and then, “I was in a car accident, last May.”

Okay, maybe I can’t take it. My heart actually fucking stops beating for several breaths too long.

“I was fine, no one was hurt,” she assures me. “The car, not so much. I went to this party in D.C. with my dad and Nathan and I drank way too much. I got angry about… Something? I don’t even remember what it was, but I stole Nathan’s keys and I left. Next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital. My dad had me checked into rehab the moment I was discharged.”

I sit up on my elbow, blinking down at her, suddenly all the water bottles and quiet behavior making so much more sense. “You’re—”

“I’ve been sober for exactly one year as of last week.” She averts her gaze to where her fingers twist in the sheets between us.

My breath snags in my lungs and then I’m kneeling next to her, taking her face in my hands so I can look her in the eye when I tell her, “That is so fucking amazing.”

“Please don’t make a big deal out of it—”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it?! Naomi, I am so fucking proud of you, how am I not supposed to make it a big deal?!”

Tears slide down her cheeks, and I brush them away gently with my thumbs. “Oh, mi reina…” I lean in, kissing her cheeks, then her nose, then her lips. “It’s alright,” I whisper. “It’s alright. I know it’s so hard but you’re doing amazing. I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud.”

She sniffles, allowing me to pull her close, burying her face in my chest. “I’m sorry,” she cried softly. “I’m so sorry—"

“Whatever are you sorry for, mi reina?” I ask her, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong—”

“What do you mean?!” She shoves away from me, her eyes wild, hair an untamed mess of coils. “Graham I was awful to you! For years! All I ever did was push you away when all you ever wanted to do was help me—”

“Naomi, stop.” I take her hands in one of mine, cupping her jaw with the other. “Look at me. I didn’t ever care where you got help so long as you got it. I offered because no one else but me had noticed. I offered because I cared about you, because I know what it’s like to have this sickness. It’s a disease, Naomi. You’re sick, and you do not have to apologize for that. Not to anyone, and especially not to me. So long as you are getting the help you need, I don’t care what happened back then.”

Tears burn the backs of my eyes. “I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay now. That you’re alive… Fuck, Naomi. A car accident? Why did you never call? I would have dropped everything—”

“Would you?” Her bottom lip trembles. “After the way things ended, would you have dropped everything to come to my side?”

My grip on her hands tightens. “Yes,” I say without hesitation, with full absolution. “Yes.”

There is hardly a breath between the single word, and the moment Naomi surges forward, kissing me deeply, passionately, fervently. And of course I catch her around the waist, my hands pressed flat against her back. I will always catch her. I will always be here to break her fall so long as there are pieces of her left to catch.

Because no matter how much time passes. No matter how many fights, no matter how many shitty words we throw at one another- I’ll never stop loving Naomi Mychal. I’ll never stop submitting to her. I’ll never stop supporting her. I’ll never stop wanting her with every bone in my fucking body.

Even if she stops saying it back. Even if she never wants to see me again. Never wants to marry me or have my babies or just wake up every morning at my side.

Even then, I’ll never stop loving her.

Never stop catching her. Never stop looking at her like she is the center of my entire world. I will be on my deathbed, and the last face I will ever want to see on this Earth will be hers no matter how many days, months, years have passed.

“Make love to me, Graham,” she begs, her fingers tangling in my already disastrous curls. “Please…”

“Forever, mi reina,” I whisper against her skin. “Derramaré amor sobre ti cada día, por toda la eternidad…”

I lay her down beneath me, but this time when I enter her I take it slow. I make every thrust inside her heat count. I catch every moan I draw from her lips with my tongue, and I don’t stop when she shudders beneath me once or even twice. I make love to her, careful, sweet. And when I come inside her, I relish in it, kiss her until neither of us have breath left in our lungs and neither of us know where she ends and I begin.

4 Years Ago

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Graham

Why is it always raining on the nights I decide to make desperately heartfelt confessions to this woman? I sit in my truck for way too long, waiting for the rain to die down, thinking through what I’m going to say. How I’m going to say it without her laughing in my fucking face.