“I don’t care if it takes every day I have left on this Earth, but by the time we finish, you’re going to be able to let go of everything that’s physically in this box and every piece of garbage you’ve let it collect within you.”
By the time she finishes, we’re both breathing heavily. I have no doubt that she means it, and even though I can’t help but feel nervous about the thought of reliving my nightmares daily, with her, part of me feels instant relief that she isn’t giving up on me now that she knows what a vile soul I have.
“I mean it, Maddox.”
“I know you do, angel.”
“And when we’re done, I’m going to remind you of this moment and the promise I’m about to make to you,” she says, her eyes begging me to believe.
“Go on,” I urge.
“One day soon, when we’re able to take the majority of this and throw it away. The day that you believe every word that I’m telling you as the truth that it is—that day, you’re going to feel the beauty of life, and the peace that you feel won’t even hold a candle to the love I’m going to drown you in.”
I give her a nod, not trusting myself to speak, and go to pick up the box again. She doesn’t move her hand until I bring my eyes back to hers.
“Don’t make me spank that doubt out of you,” she teases.
“Emersyn,” I warn.
Her eyes spark and her full lips tip up. “Keep doubting me. I dare you.”
“That sass is going to get you in trouble soon.”
She lets her hold on the box go and smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I drop the box on the top of my dresser, turning to look at her so that she sees that I’m willing to do this her way. I would be lying to myself if I said that I’m not hoping she’s right. Just the thought of feeling some peace is tempting enough for me to continue this fight. One that I know will be undoubtedly easier as long as she’s right there with me.
When I turn around, she’s lying on her back and looking at me hopefully. With a deep breath, I round the bed and sit. She’s seen me without my leg on. She’s seen my stump. She knows what I’ve been so careful to keep hidden because of the shame it gives me. Even with all of that, she’s still here, still wanting to be here. Knowing how I became this broken man didn’t change her mind at all.
That doesn’t lessen my self-consciousness about my . . . defect.
“Take it off, baby,” she whispers.
“Just give me a second.”
“I won’t give you a second. I gave you four years’ worth of seconds. It’s time for you to be a big boy and take it off,” she fumes.
I look at her and want to laugh at the situation. I should have known that, while I’m falling back on to my own faults and shortcomings, she would still throw her sass. She’s broken herself and still stands tall.
Can it really be that easy? To look at my life, find the positives—those things she thinks I’m missing because I’m too busy looking for the bad—and just let go?
Now or never, Maddox. You either keep moving forward with the hope or you let the fear consume you.
I hold her eyes, stand, and drop my sweats. Her eyes widen slightly, and had I not been staring at her directly, I wouldn’t have seen it. She stands her ground and doesn’t even flinch when I drop back down and remove my prosthetic. She doesn’t say a thing as I slide back and swing my legs over. She doesn’t make a sound until I lift my arm to pull her towards me.
Even then she doesn’t say anything with her words. She lets out a shocked gasp and lifts up as best she can with one arm.
“What . . .” She doesn’t finish her question, the words trailing off as she reaches one of her small hands towards my heated skin.
When I feel her fingertips graze the side of my body, I close my eyes and relish in the chills her touch elicits.
“I don’t . . . Is that . . . Maddox?” Her fingers don’t stop their tracing, their searching, as the question she didn’t speak lingers in the air.
“Yeah. It’s a rose, Emmy. It’s a rose that I got the day after I almost gave in and gave myself to you after Axel and Izzy got married.”
Her eyes jump to mine, shocked.
“I didn’t forget that,” I tell her. “Not for a second. Those stolen moments with you in my arms drove two things home—that you will forever be my Emersyn Rose and the only place you belonged was in my heart. I couldn’t give that to you then, so I did the second best thing. I had a symbol of you placed on my body permanently.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” she sighs after a few moments of silently searching my eyes.
“So don’t say anything. It’s there. It happened.”
“It’s beautiful,” she says, looking at the rose that starts just directly under my armpit and ends about six inches down. The rose is bright red, the stem done in black—with her name scripted down its length.
“Yeah . . . it really is,” I agree, not talking about the ink on my body, but the feeling of having her after so long of believing I couldn’t.