I lifted my head to look but couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. I settled back on his chest, listening to his heart thumping in my ear, as I said, “This house is gorgeous.”
“Tanner bought it about two years ago. I was in a bad place back then.” He stopped then amended, “A worse place, anyway. He was worried about me, and I swear to God he never let me out of his sight. He used to come over and sit with me while I stared at the wall, replaying that day in the river over and over, desperately trying to make it change.”
I knew that feeling all too well. My lungs burned as I listened to him intently, my hand reflexively twisting in his shirt. He pried it away but only so he could intertwine our fingers.
“You need to understand: I’ve always loved the water. We grew up tubing and skiing on Lake Lanier with my family. But, after that day with Catherine, I could barely even take a shower without the water slicing through me. It had been over a year, but the hate inside me was getting worse. Well, on a particularly bad day, Tanner dragged me to look at this house he was thinking about buying. I took one look at that pond and lost my fucking mind. Like, I’m not kidding, Charlotte. Lost. It. It was beyond freezing, but fully clothed, without even emptying my pockets, I ran into that pond, cussing and screaming, slamming my fists against the surface as if I could hurt the water as much as it had hurt me.” He swallowed hard. “I needed the pain to stop in a bad way.”
Tears were in my eyes as I curved my body into his side. I hated how much Porter and I shared. At the same time, it filled me in unimaginable ways.
“That was me tonight,” I confessed.
He nodded, acknowledging my words, but he didn’t let it veer him from his story. “Tanner followed me in. Floating beside me on his back while I lost my shit. When I’d finally exhausted myself, we were both shivering uncontrollably and he forced me to the shore, where we collapsed on the ground. Staring up at the sky, I asked him, ‘What the hell is wrong with me?’ And my dumbass, clueless, little brother, whose greatest difficulty in life had been deciding what woman to sleep with on Friday night, looked at me and said the most profound thing I had ever heard. ‘You’re done holding on, Porter. But you have no fucking idea how to let go.’”
I gasped and my body turned to stone as the words permeated through me. That was exactly how I felt. Like I was hanging on the edge of a cliff, my fingers slipping, my aching and exhausted body dangling above the promise of a future, while my little boy’s dark-brown eyes stared at me from above. How was I supposed to make a choice like that?
“Porter,” I breathed. “I don’t know how to let go of him.”
His fingers sifted through the back of my hair, and he pressed his lips to my forehead and whispered, “Nobody does, Charlotte. I still don’t. But Tanner bought this house, and every summer, the minute it gets warm enough, I walk into that pond and try to learn.”
My breathing shuddered as I found the courage to tell him, “I’ve been going back to the park where he was taken.”
He kissed my head again, allowing his lips to linger as I kept talking.
“It’s like I’m waiting for a sign that it’s okay for me to let go.”
He tipped his head down to catch my gaze and asked, “You seen anything?”
“I see you,” I choked, the tears finally slipping from my eyes.
His hand flexed at the back of my head. “Charlotte.”
“I don’t want to watch you walk away again, Porter. Can you give me some time? A few days, a week or so tops, just to get my head on straight? I’m not saying I’ll be better and this thing between us will work. But I really want to try.”
His warm palm came to my face. “Sweetheart, I’ll give you fifty years if you need it.”
I half laughed, half cried. “Okay, don’t get crazy. Mills women don’t age that well.”
Porter didn’t laugh. He kissed me.
Apologetic and reassuring.
Deep and meaningful.
Heartbreaking even as it eased me.
It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
Porter kissed me with hope.
And he didn’t stop even as I guided his hand down between my legs.
Nor did he stop as he lowered me to the wood slats on that gorgeous wraparound porch, slowly sliding my jeans off before pushing inside me.
I cried into his mouth, moans of pleasure and sadness as his hard body moved over me, waves of ecstasy colliding with the weight of gravity that had me pinned to the Earth.
And then he kept kissing me, the sweet taste of his hope tingling on the tip of my tongue long after we’d both found our releases.
Porter and I never left the porch that night.
We took turns going into the house. Me to use the restroom, him to grab a couple of beers. But, even with as beautiful as that house was, the porch was infinitely better.
We dozed in the hammock, waking up only to kiss or gather each other closer before falling back asleep.
At exactly 6:17 that morning, while held tight against Porter’s chest, his pouty lips parted in slumber, my head rising and falling with his even breaths, his warmth enveloping me inside and out, my eyes aimed at the horizon, I saw my very first sunrise in almost ten years.
* * *
“Daddy!” Hannah yelled from the other side of the door as I stepped out of the shower. “Travis stole my charger!”
“I did not! This one is mine!” he argued behind her.
“Nuh uh!” Hanna returned.
“Ya huh!”
“Give it to me!”
I stared at myself in the mirror, a small smile lifting the side of my mouth, and tied the towel around my hips.
Yep. That was my life. And, as frustrating as it could be sometimes, I fucking loved every second of it.
It had been five days since I’d watched Charlotte drive out of The Porterhouse parking lot after she’d dropped me back off at my car. She hadn’t called or texted in that time, but I knew she would when she was ready. Whenever that might be. I didn’t have the first clue how the two of us would ever make something work. But, if she was willing to try, so was I.
It wasn’t like I was in a huge rush for her to meet my kids. After everything they had been through, introducing them to a new woman in my life was a long way off. We could take it slow, learn to let our pasts go together before starting a future. Even if that was only phone calls and texts, late-night dinners after the kids went to bed, and maybe the occasional overnight at her place when my Mom could watch them. I just wanted Charlotte. Any way I could have her.
“Stop! You’re going to break it!” Travis shouted.
“Let go!”
“No, you let go!”
Careful to tuck my smile away, I yanked the door open. “Would you two stop fighting?”
Travis kept his gaze on his sister, one hand clenched around his iPad, the other tugging at the end of a white charger. “This one’s mine!”
I pulled the cord from between their warring hands. “Well, now, it’s mine.”
“Dad!” Travis whined. “I only have eight percent left on my iPad. It’s going to die.”
The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise #1)
Aly Martinez's books
- Among the Echoes
- The Fall Up
- Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)
- Retrieval (The Retrieval Duet #1)
- Transfer (The Retrieval Duet #2)
- The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)
- Broken Course (Wrecked and Ruined #3)
- Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)
- Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)
- Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)
- Savor Me
- Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)