Still Beating

Corabelle.

A single sunbeam peeks through her lace drapes, lighting up the golden glints in her hair. She’s still asleep, as peaceful as I’ve ever seen her, and my heart constricts with each quiet breath. I’m trying not to be a total creep and stare at her, but I’m hypnotized by the rise and fall of her chest, her slightly parted lips, and the way her eyelashes flutter as she dreams.

I’m painfully in love with this woman and I’ll be damned if I don’t soak up every fleeting moment with her while I’m here.

Her hands are tucked beneath her cheek and I swear there’s a tiny smile creasing her mouth. I can’t help myself—I lean in, placing a soft kiss against the corner of her lips. Cora stirs, nuzzling into her hands, her hair dipping down across her face as she moves. I brush it aside with my fingers, my touch lingering until her eyes blink open.

It takes a minute, but then her smile brightens as recognition and relief fill her eyes. “Hi,” she whispers, her voice cracked and sleepy.

“Hi.” Fuck, I could get used to this—waking up every morning to her drowsy, love-laced stare and rosy cheeks. “What were you dreaming about? You were smiling.”

Cora stretches out her arms, the bedsheet falling further down her hip and catching my attention. “Shakespeare.”

I squint at her. “Hmm. Is that code for all the new ways I used my tongue last night?”

She blushes, burying her face into the pillow with a laugh. I pull her to me until her nose is pressed to the top of my chest, her head right beneath my chin. Then I whisper against her hair, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

Cora lifts her head with a grin. “You know Shakespeare?”

“We’ve never met. But I do know a sexy English teacher who often quotes him.”

Her smile widens and she pecks a kiss to my chin. “I always used to think you were dumb, you know.”

I laugh as my hand trails down her arm and lands on her hipbone. “Yeah. You would get so fired up when I’d pretend not to know something. It was cute as hell.”

“You were the worst.”

“Incorrigible.”

Cora giggles as she wraps her leg around my thigh, her eyes twinkling. “We should make love. Then we should take the dogs for a long walk, come home and cook breakfast, and crawl back under the covers until you have to drive home.”

All of that sounds fucking fantastic—minus the last bit. The thought of heading back to Bloomington to my eerily quiet one-bedroom apartment all alone, reeking of Cora Lawson, seems unfathomable. But I realize there’s no way around it right now. And I sure as hell don’t regret the choice I made eight months ago to accept the job transfer, uproot my life, and put distance between me and the woman who desperately needed it.

It was hard.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It was harder than everything we went through during those fateful twenty days in a madman’s basement, because it was a choice. It was my choice. And I had the power to say ‘fuck it’ and be weak and stay, and it would have been so damn easy to do that. I wanted to do that.

But the only thing I wanted more was to see her smile.

I wanted to see her glowing and thriving and truly living her life.

I wanted to see her just like this, just like she is right now, happy and healing and learning to love herself again.

So, it’s all been worth it—I just don’t know where the hell we go from here.

I swallow, trying not to let the unknowns spoil this blissful morning after. The last time we woke up together ended up being the worst day of my life.

I reach for her arm that’s entangled around my neck and tug it down, turning it palm-side up. I gaze at the small tattoo inscribed onto her wrist, brushing my thumb over the heartbeat symbol. Her skin is soft and lightly puckered from the tiny scars beneath the design, a permanent reminder of her past. I massage my thumb over her pulse point in the same way I used to do when my touch was the only solace I could give her.

Cora inhales a quick breath, her eyes closing as she lets the feelings sweep through her. The memories. The flashbacks. The thoughts and sensations. When her eyes open, hazy and glossed over, I press my lips to her wrist, sprinkling soft kisses along her vein.

She lets out a sigh of contentment and says, “I love you.”

I’ve replayed those three words over and over in my mind for eight, torturous months, wondering if I’d ever hear them again.

Nothing beats the real fucking thing.

I squeeze her to me, inhaling her daffodil hair and skin made of citrus, still lingering with remnants of our lovemaking. “I love you so damn much, Corabelle. I’ve thought about you every single day since I left, craving your kiss, your touch, the smell of your hair. You never left my mind. I drove myself crazy not knowing if you were really okay, or wondering if you’d moved on with someone else. It’s been hell.” I kiss her forehead, hesitating before I pull back. “But seeing the light in your eyes again is everything. And even if you had moved on and found happiness with some other guy… it would have fucking sucked, but it still would have been worth it to see you like this.”

Cora places her fingertips against my cheek, trailing them down the stubble along my jaw. “I’ve thought about you, too. Every day. Every night. I dream about us at the ocean sometimes, listening to the waves roll in, feeling the water mist our faces.” She kisses my lips, wrapping her leg tighter around me and hitching it over my waist. “It’s my happy place.”

I smile against her mouth. “My happy place is wherever you are. And I want to make this work, Cora. No more hiding, no more holding back. I’ll wait for a job position to open back up here, and I’ll put in for a transfer. It might be a few months—it could be a year. But I’ll spend every goddamn weekend with you until I’m back for good.”

Tears well in her green eyes, her lips parting with wonder. “You’re coming back?”

“If you want me to. If you want this like I want this.”

She quickly nods. “I want this, Dean. I want you. I want everything I told myself I didn’t deserve.”

“You deserve it all, Corabelle, and I’ll spend my whole damn life giving it to you.”

She kisses me again, then again and again. “I’ll talk to Mandy this week. There might be tension at first… it might still be weird. But we’re in a better place now, and she’s moved on and is crazy happy with Reid, and I just know it’s going to be okay. My parents still love you.” Cora pulls herself even closer to me, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I know we can do this.”

I grin, my heart flipping the fuck out inside my chest. I wrap her up in my arms, whispering against her neck, “We escaped from a serial killer, Cora. We can do anything.”

Cora pulls my face to hers, capturing a kiss that tastes somehow different from all the rest.

It tastes like a new beginning.

After we finish making love that morning and lie basking in the afterglow, I have one more question to ask her. I catch her eyes, drunk with happiness, and I twirl a soft strand of her hair around my finger as she faces me on the bed. “Are you still mine?”

Cora doesn’t hesitate. She reaches for my hand, placing it above her heart. “It’s still beating,” she says. Her face lights up with a radiant smile that looks exactly like how her heartbeat feels. “As long as it’s beating, I’m yours.”