Dom had probably only half-forgiven him at this point.
Still, he’d faced my brother and my family, so I could face my demons too. I told everyone my struggle. Izzy hugged me while my mom cried and dad patted my shoulder.
We’d all sat around a bonfire that night, hashing out everything. With their support, therapy, and the man I loved, I was able to face a lot more. I embraced the idea of going back to college after months of therapy—both with and without Dante. I’d been diagnosed with high-functioning depression and a lot of anxiety, most likely brought on by my need to overachieve. I was highly critical of myself and overthought a lot.
We worked on it daily. I hadn’t made my decision to go back to medical school lightly. I wanted to become a doctor, but I worked very hard to balance the demands of school with maintaining a healthy mental state. I’d been well into medical school, that beautiful ring on my finger after getting married on the farm, and I was pregnant. I wanted that baby more than anything, and the devastation of losing another baby hit me like a bull running at a target full speed.
Dante had tried to soften the blow. Every day he did. He let me go out to the animals on the farm where I cried in the stables with the young ones. I swear the mothers in that stable knew my pain. Our big red horse stayed by me always. Sometimes, I climbed up on her back and just laid on her mane, and she let me. We mourned our losses together.
Dante did too. Even now, he handled me like I was fragile, like I was about to break. Even though I’d seen firsthand how he’d ripped apart a man for me, his touch was the softest, most delicate thing I’d ever experienced. Dante knew people, though. He studied their weaknesses and their strengths. He could break you or put you back together better than you could yourself. Maybe he knew I was about to self-destruct, that the ticking time bomb of being perfect had already exploded, and now he didn’t want the nuclear bomb in me to go off too.
He was doing everything perfectly, exactly by the book, and still, I couldn’t climb from the darkness to tell him. The way he touched me, the way he softly kissed my neck, it all felt like sympathy. Like sadness.
I stepped into the tub, sat down, and let him wash my body. The silence between us was so loud with pain that I couldn’t handle the heartbreak. When he shampooed my hair, he massaged my scalp and stared at me staring at him. Our gazes were locked on one another, and I searched his eyes for anything other than agony.
The man who normally looked at me with unrestrained heat and desire was leashing it, and suddenly I wanted to see it. He held the pain of losing our baby too, and yet he tamped it all down.
For me.
Dante did it all for me.
And I wanted to do the same for him.
I grabbed his wrist and slid his hand from my hair to my neck and then down to my breast.
He jerked it away. “I’m taking care of you, Lilah.”
I stared at his hand where he’d fisted it and saw the veins pop in his forearm.
“I want you to take care of me in a different way now.”
“I don’t think we’re ready for that. You’ve been through a lot,” he said. I knew he meant it, but his eyes raking over my body told me differently.
“Get in the tub with me.” I stared at him as he stood up from kneeling, a frown on his face.
“We have to get over to your parents’.”
“They can wait. I want you, Dante.” I pronounced each word slowly so he could take them all in. “Remember how you always tell me to use my words? I’m using them. I want my husband between my legs.”
When he didn’t answer right away, I glanced down at his sweat shorts and saw the massive tent that told me his cock wanted me, even if he was trying to talk himself out of it.
I sat up from the bath, bubbles and water cascading down my breasts, and shoved down his shorts. He let me do it, glaring at me now. I didn’t care, though. I was taking in the way he stood there, completely naked, chiseled like a Greek god with a pierced cock big enough for me to choke on. I loved how it stood to attention just for me, how the dark metal glinted in the light like it wanted to show off.
He shook his head as I crooked a finger and moved to the side of the tub that was against the wall. “This isn’t a way to solve our problems.”
“Our problem is that you’re babying and pampering me and I’m moping.”
“It’s not moping, it’s coping. We’ve been over this, and you’re allowed to have ups and downs, Lamb.”
I nodded. I knew he was right. I knew that my depression would hit and I wouldn’t be able to smile sometimes. Today, though, I felt strong enough. I knew we’d get through anything, and I wanted to make sure he knew that too. “So are you. You can’t be my savior every single time.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. I could tell he was frustrated, trying to tamp down on his pain to deal with mine. “It’s not about me. You need to be loved—”
I shook my head. “You would baby me for the rest of my life, Dante. I swear it—”
“I wouldn’t regret a single moment of it either.” He shrugged, turning toward the mirror and vanity behind him rather than stepping into the tub with me.
“If you don’t get in here and fuck me without a look of sadness on your face, Dante, I swear I’ll scream and cry all night.” There. That was using all the words I wanted to.