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Afterward, he removes himself from my body and gathers me in his arms, effortlessly lifting me as if I weigh nothing more than a feather before carrying me up to the apartment.

I cling to him, grateful for the support, knowing my legs wouldn’t work properly right now.

He settles us into bed, pulling me close until our bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle.

Silence rages in the darkness as his fingers trace a soothing pattern on my back. A contentment he breaks moments later.

“Did you mean it?” his voice is a vulnerable whisper in the night, carrying the weight of an unspoken question.

But I don’t need clarification. I know exactly what he’s asking. Lifting my head, I meet his gaze in the shadows. “Yes, I meant it.”

A flicker of emotion passes through his eyes like a fleeting witness. He visibly swallows and then opens his mouth, but before any words can escape, I press my finger to his lips, my fear silencing him.

“Don’t say anything. I don’t need to hear it back. I just wanted you to know.”

I’m not sure why, maybe because silence is safer than the absence of reciprocation.

Rather than respond with words, his lips meet mine in a soul-shattering kiss, a silent declaration that transcends the need for any verbal affirmation.

He rolls over top of me, conveying an unspoken promise through the language of touch and it’s enough for now.

Gunnar

Exhaustion from a long day presses down on me, my burning eyes and heavy limbs resenting the fourteen-hour shift.

I never mind working overtime; it comes with the territory, and I’m always grateful for the business, but working until almost ten o’clock every night this week leaves little time for my favorite part of the day, and that’s being with Ellie.

Whether it’s being buried deep inside her, enveloped in her warmth and intoxicating scent, or listening to her laugh and ramble about the stupidest shit, these are now the moments I live for. Though, if I’m being honest, I’ve always lived for any moment with her since we were kids.

After doing a quick survey of my surroundings, I take note of the several unfinished tasks and decide it’ll still be here tomorrow. Which is why I say “fuck it” and call it a night.

Tossing my wrench back in the toolbox, I make my way to the back room to clean up. I strip out of my grime-covered workwear, shedding the heaviness of the day along with it, then wash up at the sink.

A hot shower beckons me, but I resist the temptation, saving that indulgence for when I’m with Elle.

Just as the thought surfaces, the unmistakable sound of footsteps resounding through the shop greets my ears, sending Bear into a barking frenzy.

A scowl forms on my face as I wonder who the hell is coming by at this hour.

It better not be Ryland coming back. As much as I appreciate his help, he already does too much for someone who is supposed to be retired.

Shutting off the sink, I dry my hands and emerge from the back room to find the girl I was eager to get home to. The one my thoughts are constantly consumed with.

My best friend.

Elle kneels next to Bear, hugging him and kissing him like she always does.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” I say in greeting, an easy grin falling over my face as I stride toward her. “I was just about to lock up.”

She climbs to her feet as I approach, giving me a full view, and her appearance under the dim light halts me in my tracks. Dressed in baggy sweats that swallow her small frame and red rimmed eyes brimming with tears, she looks lost and broken.

Concern grips my chest like an iron fist. “Elle, what is it? What’s wrong?”

My questions hang like a dark cloud, casting shadows across her delicate features.

She fidgets with the hem of her hoodie as if trying to distract me from the tears flooding her eyes before she manages a shrug. “Got my period.” Her fragile composure shatters under the confession, triggering a sob from her chest.

A curse escapes me as I close the distance between us and take her into my arms. I hold her close, forming a protective shield around her trembling body as she cries against my chest.

“I’m sorry, Elle,” I whisper against her hair, wishing my words were enough to ease her disappointment; not only for her but myself.

“I know I’m being stupid,” she says between sobs. “But I really thought this time was it. I was so sure of it. Felt it in my bones. How could I have been so wrong?”

Her sorrow rips me apart from the inside out. “You’re not stupid,” I murmur. “You were hopeful, we both were. Nothing wrong with that. It’s just going to take more time than we were expecting, but it will happen.”

“What if it doesn’t?” she whispers fearfully. “What if something is wrong, Gunnar? What if they overlooked something at the clinic, and I can’t get pregnant?”

I dismiss that thought, refusing to even go there. “I’m sure that’s not the case, but if it is, we’ll figure it out. We might just have to shift the plan. Hell, for all we know, maybe it’s me.” That thought unsettles me more than I care to admit.

“Doubtful,” she grumbles.

I frown at the response. “Why do you say that?”

“Because anytime anything ever goes wrong, it’s never you, it’s always me,” she cries. “You’re perfect and good at everything you do, and I’m always riding the Hot Mess Express.”

That statement is so ridiculous I can’t help but laugh. “I’m far from perfect, Elle, but if it’s any consolation, I will gladly ride the Hot Mess Express with you, anytime, anywhere.”

A giggle escapes through her tears, which is the exact reaction I was hoping for. The sound of it eases the heaviness of the moment.

Sniffling, she lifts her face from my chest, revealing a slightly pink nose and red-rimmed eyes. The sight of it has me dropping a kiss on her forehead, my lips lingering as I silently vow to always fix what hurts.

By the time I pull back, I see her eyes have fluttered close, a tranquil calm settling over her face before she reopens them.

“You always make it better,” she says, her voice a mere whisper.

Good because that’s what she has always done for me. She’s always been my anchor in the storm.

“I’m sorry for showing up and falling apart on you like this,” she adds. “Especially when you’re so busy. I was just really sad and didn’t want to be alone.”

That confession hits hard. “You never have to apologize for needing me, Elle,” I say, my thumb sweeping away a stray tear from her cheek. “Let’s just give it a little more time before we worry too much, okay?”

Her response is a gentle nod.

“Why don’t we stay here tonight?” I suggest, pulling her in closer. “We can make some popcorn, watch a movie, or just talk. Whatever you want.”

A grateful smile touches her lips, a glimmer of hope breaking through the sorrow. “I’d like that.” Her soft agreement further eases the moment.

Are sens