“I’m trying,” I murmured.
“I know you are, and I’m so proud of you.” With an uncertain tug on my arm, he invited me closer. “Come here, darling. It’s okay.”
In a rush, I nearly toppled his balance as I threw my arms around his neck and stuck myself to him like sap on a tree. I buried my face in his neck, smelling peppermint and wet earth, and he enveloped me in his thick arms. Falling back on his butt, he huffed in humor and bewilderment as I crawled into his lap.
I wanted to lose myself inside him and hide away from the cruel world. Whether he understood or not, he folded himself around me until I was trapped in his colossal embrace. I never felt truly safe, except when I was here. Gideon would protect me, no matter what.
“I’m so angry, Gideon,” I confessed into his neck. “All the time. I try to control it, but sometimes, it… I can’t.”
Gideon was silent for quite awhile, rocking me slightly like one might a scared child. It wasn’t condescending. Actually, it was rather comforting, and I let him continue the easy motion, clutching at the back of his shirt.
“For what it’s worth, I believe you are strong enough to accomplish anything you set your mind to.” Guiding my face from his neck, his forehead met mine, and his green eyes swallowed me whole. “But you never have to face anything alone, not ever again. I will face it with you.”
“You make it sound so easy.” I bumped his nose with mine, pouting my bottom lip, and he chuckled.
“Easy, no. But it can be that simple.” He brought my hand to his mouth, pecking my knuckles like an old-fashioned gentleman. “I’m on your side. We all are. But we can’t help unless you let us.”
And there it was, the reminder of the secrets I kept, the memories I couldn’t revisit for fear of losing myself to the abyss. I wanted them to help me, but how could I find the words to explain the horror I’d experienced, the terror I’d inspired? Would they still be on my side then?
“There are things I need to tell you,” I whispered, unable to meet his gaze. “I just don’t know if I’m ready yet.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand. “Okay. Then we’ll wait until you are. There’s no expiration date on our”—he swallowed thickly—“love for you.”
Tripping over the word, he cleared his throat and broke eye contact, his cheeks flushing. If he had a hand free, he’d be tugging on his ear. As it was, he simply looked moments away from self-combusting from embarrassment. Gideon could be so stinkin’ adorable sometimes.
The urge to kiss him bubbled within me, but I held back. I hadn’t kissed him fully since the night in my hospital room when I’d practically molested him. Since then, he’d been more affectionate and even initiated chaste kisses on my cheek and brow. But not the lips.
I couldn’t tell if he held back because of me or if I tiptoed around him. It was confusing. Gideon didn’t want sex from me, that was clear, but where was the line? Was kissing really allowed? Or was he simply placating my physical need for contact? It was hard to discern, especially when my hormones joined the argument and muddled my brain.
Instead of tasting his lips like I was dying to do, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. And I really am sorry for breaking the mirror.”
“I know, precious one. All is forgiven.”
Smiling like a fool, I tucked my head beneath Gideon’s chin and settled into his lap more securely. His heart beat heavily against my cheek, and his every inhale echoed strangely in my ear pressed to his chest. He rubbed my back with one hand while the other rested on the back of my neck. It was peaceful.
“I love you,” I said after a time.
He blushed and stammered, strangled non-words blubbering past his lips. Then he huffed. “You are precious to me,” he said, refusing to meet my gaze as he pretended to check my tape work on the broken mirror.
This time, I couldn’t fight it. I tapped his chin to capture his attention. He looked down at me with a soft smile, and I popped up and planted a kiss on his lips. It was short and sweet, but I eyed him warily, awaiting his reaction to my blatant affection.
Gideon blinked. His Adam’s apple jumped. Then his mouth split in a crooked, almost boyish grin. His dimple carved into his cheek, and I traced it with my index finger as I smiled back at him.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like Riley again. Before Purgatory. Before murder and torture and grief. We were just Gideon and Riley snuggled on the floor of a bathroom in Utopia. It was peppermint and sunshine and Birds of Paradise. It was home.
“There you are.” His thumb brushed over my cheek, and I sighed.
“Here I am.”
After several minutes of silence, Gideon said, “Come. I need your help with something else.”
He stood and helped me to my feet. He told me to get dressed and to meet him on the deck. I did as I was told, tugging a pair of old jeans up my legs and slipping a shirt over my head. Judging from the faded smell of spicy smoke clinging to the fabric, it was one of Jai’s.
When I stepped out onto the wooden deck, I froze like a deer caught in headlights. All three of my angels stood in the yard, surrounded by shovels and spades, bags of enriched soil, and plants. My eyes zeroed in on the Birds of Paradise. My heart seized.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I followed the steps down the deck and onto the grass.
“We are going to plant these flowers,” Gideon said in his no-nonsense tone. He held out one of the Birds of Paradise to me, and I nearly recoiled.
“Why?” My voice cracked on the word.
Uncertainty flitted over his face, and he almost pulled the flower back into his chest. But he didn’t. His jaw clenched, his shoulders squaring, like he was bolstering his courage. Maybe he was.
“Because the flowerbeds are empty, and it’s time we made something beautiful again.” Gideon stretched his arm until the Bird of Paradise was practically in my face. “Would you help me, kapara?”
I inspected the bare backyard and chewed on the inside of my cheek. Noel and Jai looked between Gideon and me, not fully understanding the undercurrent to this conversation. To be honest, I didn’t exactly understand the pain and fear battling inside me at the thought of replanting a garden.
But when I met Gideon’s stare, I found myself nodding. “Okay.”
He smiled as I took the Bird of Paradise from his grip. He dragged his fingertip over my jaw, and I flushed.
A few hours later, sweat was rolling down the back of my neck, soaking my shirt. I tried to wipe the salt from my brow but only accomplished in smearing my face with dirt. When I was elbow-deep in the earth, Gideon hunkered down beside me. He helped me place the Bird of Paradise into the ground. I held it steady as he covered the roots with dirt.
Jai and Noel worked around us, tilling the earth and tossing rocks and stones into a pile to discard later. No one really spoke. The sun was warm, the breeze fresh. Birds chirped around us as the afternoon began to wane.
When the Birds of Paradise were planted, Gideon moved to start on the hyacinth. I didn’t follow him. Reaching out, I touched the tender orange and yellow petals. Gideon paused, his trowel buried in the earth. Jai and Noel straightened, watching me.
My voice cracked as I spoke. “They’re just going to burn again. Everything always burns.”