The Story of Us: A heart-wrenching story that will make you believe in true love

I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves as I walked up the steps to Eli’s new place, but it didn’t work. We’d spend the last week doing nothing but ripping each other’s clothes off almost as soon as we saw each other, and even though each time was more amazing than the last and it’s all I wanted and all I thought about when we weren’t together, I knew we couldn’t keep going like this. We couldn’t close ourselves off in the tack room night after night, staying in our safe little cocoon and avoiding the world around us.

As easy as it was to fall back together, as natural as it was just to be together, Meredith was right, there were things we needed to talk about that I’d been avoiding. I kept convincing myself to keep it easy and keep it light because he didn’t need anything hard in his life right now. I told myself he’d been through too much and shouldn’t have to deal with the added pressure of my drama and bullshit on top of that, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Not after reading his letters and not after seeing just how strong he was after the years of hell he’d lived through. The more time I spent with him, the more amazed I was at how easily he’d been able to come home and adjust back into his life. He’d mentioned a few times that he’d been talking to a therapist since he came home, but a part of me couldn’t believe that’s all it took to make him forget and move on and remember how to live again. Especially after the nightmare I witnessed him having in the stables and the scars those people left behind.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised. He used to always tell me I was the strongest person he ever knew, but he had no idea just how strong he was. After the horrors he’d seen and been forced to endure, he still put my needs first. He still worried more about me than he did himself and I refused to take that for granted or let him down. I stopped being the weak and pathetic woman who wouldn’t stand up for herself because of him and he needed to know that. I saw the look on his face the few times I got a text from Landry when we were together and I tried to pretend like it wasn’t anything important, and it kills me that I wasn’t honest with him right in that moment. He’s here, he’s alive, he’s fighting for me, and I need him to know that I’m fighting right back, even if it might take some time.

When he called and invited me over for dinner tonight, saying he wanted to show me his place and that we needed to talk, it felt good to know we were thinking the same thing. Until I got in my car and headed over here and thought about everything we needed to discuss. Like why he lied to me in that first note when he left for deployment, if he really is doing okay, if he’s told his sister about us, if he’s sure I’m still what he wants, and if so, what exactly does he want. Not to mention the elephant in the room who keeps texting and calling, the one I used to try and move on from Eli, the one I’d hoped would help me forget him. I have to tell Eli that I let another man touch me and try to take his place, even though it’s obvious now that no man could ever replace him, could ever be more than him or better than him. I have to tell him I allowed another man into my bed and into my life while he was being tortured and abused and clinging to thoughts of me and my love for him just to keep him alive. I have to tell him the other man is still in my life because I’ve been too much of a coward to break it off and too distracted being with Eli again to even care, and I’m scared to death Eli’s going to hate me for it.

My mother is another story. Even though she’s been strangely absent lately and she hasn’t made any more threats since she reminded me of how she could still have Eli investigated for treason if I didn’t hold up my end of the deal by staying away from him, I know when she finds out about all of this, there will be hell to pay, and Eli needs to be prepared. I need to be the strong woman Eli came home for, stand on my own two feet, make my own decisions, and take back my life. I won’t risk his security or that of his family by telling him everything she’s done and everything she’s threatened until I talk to her first, but don’t want him to spend one more day thinking I gave up or that I chose this life. I just want him to be safe. I just want him to be happy, and I just want to find a way to make him understand without putting him at risk.

As I lift my hand to knock, the door is flung open before my fist can even make contact with the wood. Just like every time I see him again, it feels like the first time. Butterflies flap around in my stomach and my heart beats faster when I see Eli standing in the doorway with a smile on his face, wearing a T-shirt and jeans and his hair still damp from a shower.

Before I can say anything, his arm is around my waist and he’s pulling me against him and into the house, slamming the door behind me and pushing me up against it. His body presses into mine and his hand goes to the back of my head, his mouth slamming into mine before I can even take a breath or look around the foyer. I lose myself in his kiss and his taste and his touch, and the pep talk I gave myself while I was standing out front completely flies from my mind.

I can’t think about anything else when he’s this close and I don’t care about anything else when he’s kissing me. His tongue swirls around mine and his leg pushes between my thighs and all I care about is never wanting this feeling to end. Never wanting him to stop touching me or kissing me or wanting me. I’ve had too many days, months, and years of feeling so empty and feeling nothing that I don’t know how to stop craving it or how to stop needing it like I need air to breathe.

I know I should pull back, slow this down, and do all the talking I convinced myself on the way over needed to happen, but it’s physically impossible when the heat from his body warms everything cold inside me and the smell of his skin surrounds me.

Eli suddenly stops the kiss and pulls his head back, both of us breathing heavily and staring at each other.

“I invited you here because I thought it would be less distracting than the stables, so we could talk,” he pants.

“Yes…talk,” I mumble distractedly as my eyes move down to stare at his lips.

He presses his thigh up between my legs and I whimper, my hands fisting into the material of his T-shirt by his chest as his head dips down to the side of my neck.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he whispers, biting down gently and then tracing the tip of his tongue over the same spot.

I groan as he continues kissing my neck until my head thumps back against the door behind me, the sound bringing me somewhat back to my senses.

Moving my hands to the back of his head, I clutch on to his short hair and pull him away from my neck so I can see his face.

“Talking is important,” I remind him, my eyes fluttering closed when he starts sliding his thigh back and forth between my legs.

“Very important,” he confirms in a low voice, his hands moving slowly over my breasts and down my sides until he gets to my hips and clutches the material of my skirt in his fists.

As he leans in to kiss me again, I press my hand to his mouth to stop him and he growls against my palm. Dropping my hand down to flatten it against his chest so I can feel his heart beating against my skin, I raise one eyebrow and wait.