Page 106 of Painted Truths

He places his hands on either side of my head, pulling me closer to rest our brows on each other. I set my hands on his warm pectoral muscles, feeling his heartbeat slowly recede to a normal level until his deep, even breathing tells me he's succumbed to the exhaustion of both the day and reliving his nightmare.

Sleep doesn't find me as I replay everything he's told me on a continuous loop in my mind, desperately searching for ways to mend these brothers' bond that had been so irreparably broken by someone who was supposed to care for them.

And hating Lauren DeMarco with every fibre of my being for what she’s taken from these two exceptional men.

* * *

The flight home is a quiet affair. Neither man has heard a word from Caden about how Layla is faring, and having not gotten any the night before, I sleep the entire way. Finally, about an hour outside London, Henry climbs into bed behind me, tugging me close before his deep, even breathing tells me he has nodded off.

Disembarking from the jet, we find two black town cars waiting for us, and while our luggage is being transferred to the appropriate vehicle, we say our goodbyes. Nate wraps me in his embrace. "Don't be a stranger, Peachy." He pulls back with a wry grin on his handsome face as I playfully narrow my eyes at his ongoing play on Henry's name for me. Waving goodbye, he disappears into the back seat of his waiting car before the driver whisks him away to his countryside retreat. The enormous estate is yet another bequeathment from his late father, though this one of sentimental value as it had been his mother's childhood home.

Sensing his unwillingness to be apart and perhaps my own need to be close to him, I grasp Henry's hand in mine in the backseat of the town car, gently squeezing. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

I strive for confidence instead of neediness, unsure how our relationship will progress now that we've broken our bubble to return home. I'm sure I've blown it upon hearing the waver in my tone, that hesitant optimism ringing loud and clear even to my own ears, but Henry doesn't seem to care when his face lights up with a beaming smile that makes the golden flecks in his eyes sparkle as he nods.

Henry has someone magically swing by with clothes and a new phone for me before we've even reached my apartment door. His face is the very picture of sheepish regret, putting a self-satisfied smirk on my face at the memory of my old phone and what had happened following its untimely demise.

"You're an idiot."

I shove his bicep playfully before depositing my luggage on the small kitchen table. Before I've turned to see his reaction, he's gathered me into his embrace to nuzzle his nose against my neck.

"And you fucking love it, Peaches."

His lips move against my neck as he says the words, causing his scruff to chafe my sensitive skin in the best way before I nod softly in acknowledgement. I do love it. This soft side of Henry that no one else sees. I love it, and I can't get enough of it.

Sidestepping out of his embrace, I reach for his hand to tug him to the bedroom. Once we've crossed the threshold, I turn to take in his reaction.

My room is small but brimming with personality.

Inside the entryway, there's a chest of drawers that I've painted a matte dusty pink with odds and ends strewn across it. Sunglasses, several tubes of lip balm, a bunch of spare keys, including one to Nola and Jo's place and a large photo of me and my sister, Holly, taken a couple of weeks before her accident.

Henry moves around me, evidently having spotted the photo, and stares at the two girls in the frame for the longest time. Then he turns to me, his eyes suspiciously sparkly, and his words make my heart hurt even more than before. But this time, not only for this beautiful man but also for myself and what I've lost.

"She'd be so proud of the beautiful woman you've become, Peaches. Because despite it all, you're the most amazing person I've ever known. Inside and out.”

His lips quirk on one side ever so slightly. “You’ve overcome so much and rather than hiding away from the world and ceasing to live like some of us…” His self-deprecating sneer makes me giggle as he continues.

“You’ve grown and adapted and embraced every single part of what makes you you. I can’t say it any more plainly, Peach. I'm in awe of you."

Swallowing heavily, I step forward to plant a kiss on his mouth before resting my hands on his cheeks.

"I'm in awe of you, Henry DeMarco. Despite every single obstacle, every single thing that happened to you and around you and yet you've grown into a man your mother would be so proud of."

I'm gathered against the warmth of his broad chest before I've even finished the sentence, my ear resting over his heart, listening to the now-familiar galloping cadence and allowing its melody to soothe my weary body.

As though Henry has read my thoughts, he pulls back gently to look down into my upturned face.

"You've had quite the hectic few days, Peaches. Let's get ready to turn in."

Placing his hands on my shoulders, he spins me in the direction of the small ensuite bathroom, excusing himself to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I make short work of my regular night routine and, throwing on one of the satin pyjamas Jo insisted I buy, I return to my bedroom to find Henry holding my ratty, yet irreplaceable, night t-shirt in his fist as though the mere sight offends him.

His horrified eyes rise to meet my entertained ones while I try to keep my impending laughter under wraps.

"What the fuck is this, baby?" I can't help the snort that escapes at the tone of utter incredulity in his question.

"Things are worse than I fucking thought. Is this what you sleep in?"

Widening my eyes, the very picture of innocence, I clamp my lips between my teeth and nod slowly. He runs his free hand through his hair in disbelief, allowing it to fall forward boyishly over his forehead. The urge to brush it back almost overwhelms me until his eyebrows very nearly hit his hairline, and I can't hold my sniggering in any longer. Folding at the waist, I double over as laughter flows through my body, escaping from my upturned lips.