Chapter 301
Hot milk it is.
Balancing both cups, he headed back up the stairs. His steps slowed as he neared the bedroom. The door stood slightly ajar, the crack of warm lampligh spilling into the hallway. He nudged it open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
The bedroom was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the small bedside lamp casting a dim, golden glow. Graham stood beside the bed, crac a mug of hot cocoa in his hands, and stared at the lump beneath the blankets. Isla had cocooned herself from head to toe, the duvet pulled up so tightl that she looked like a child hiding from a nightmare.
Except this nightmare was real. And he was part of it.
He exhaled slowly. “Isla.” His voice was low, almost tentative–an unfamiliar tone for a man like him.
The blanket trembled. She was shaking. If he didn’t know better, he might’ve thought she was asleep. But that fine tremor gave her away.
“I know you’re awake,‘ he said softly. “Please…look at me.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the top of the blanket shifted. A dark head peeked out, and two wary eyes appeared beneath the edge of t
duvet.
Graham forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Here,” he said, crouching slightly as he extended the mug toward her. “I made you hot cocoa.”
She hesitated. And in that moment, she reminded him of a stray animal–one that had spent too many nights out in the rain, too many days fending off cruel hands and cold streets. She was small and fragile, her eyes full of mistrust.
Her hand reached for the mug, fingers trembling as they wrapped around the handle. For a brief second, her skin brushed his. The instant contact made he recoil, her hand jerking back like she’d touched fire.
The sharp sting in his chest surprised him.
It wasn’t personal, he told himself. It had been a traumatic night, and she was just shaken. That’s all it is.
He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the mug in her lap. His knuckles turned white against the ceramic of his own cup as the silence stretched.
‘Isla,‘ he tried again.
‘Hmm?” Her response was little more than a hum, her eyes fixed on the swirling liquid in her cup as though the secrets of the universe lay hidden in the
cocoa.
“Look at me,” he said, more gently this time. His hand twitched with the urge to tilt her chin up–but he resisted. Forcing her would only make it worse
‘Please.”
A long pause. Then, finally, she raised her eyes to his.
The sight gutted him.
She was trying to mask it, trying to build some kind of emotional wall. But he could see it all the confesion, the shame, the feat. She was withdrawing from him, brick by painful brick, and he had no idea how to stop #.
8:51 am P
M
Chapter 301
“You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, right?” His voice was hoarse, his chest tight.
“Of course not,” she said instantly. But the way she said it–so quick, so automatic–felt more like reassurance for him than belief from her.
His jaw clenched. “And you also know…it won’t always be like this. That it doesn’t always hurt when a man and woman make love?”
She gave a jerky nod. “Yes. I heard what the doctor said.”
Her words were logical. Her expression said otherwise. The uncertainty was right there, etched into the soft line of her mouth, the way her gaze d
after she spoke.
“Okay,” Graham said, biting back everything else he wanted to say. If he pushed her now, she’d only retreat further. And the truth was, she looked -physically, emotionally, in every way possible.
He turned away and walked to his side of the bed. His hand hovered over the lamp for a moment before switching it off. The room plunged into dar broken only by the pale slivers of moonlight slipping through the curtains.
He lay down, careful to leave space between them. Nearly a foot of untouched mattress separated their bodies, and yet it felt like miles.
The mattress dipped as Isla turned onto her side, away from him. The faint rustle of sheets was the only sound in the room.
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