K. Bromberg - Crashed

“Asshole’s more like it!” Colton says, sliding into the seat beside me. “He’d be an even better friend if he got his hand off of my girl and let me take her the fuck home.”

“Speaking of our mild-mannered friend,” Becks says with a laugh, squeezing my hand. “I love you too, Wood!”

“Ditto, dude!” Colton laughs as he pushes the button on the dash and the engine roars to life.

“Keep him in line,” Becks says with a wink to me and a shake of his head before he shuts the door.

We pull out of the parking lot, both of us falling into a comfortable silence as we drive. I’m anxious to get home, sleep in my own bed with Colton’s reassuring warmth against me. I close my eyes and lean my head back, my mind racing over every chaotic event that’s happened in the last few weeks. I sigh into the silence and Colton switches the radio on before reaching over to hold my hand.

Sarah Bareillis’ voice floats through the air, and I can’t help but hum softly and smile at the poignancy of the lyrics. I know Colton hears the words too because he squeezes my hand, and when I open my eyes to look over at him, I’m startled by the sight in front of me.

“Colton, what…?”

“I know you’re still sore, but I wanted to bring you somewhere that made you happy.”

“You make me happy,” I say, locking eyes with him to reinforce my words before looking out at the stretch of beach beyond us.

“I’m prepared this time around.” He smiles shyly at me. “I have blankets, jackets, and some food if you’d like to go sit a while in the sun with me.”

Tears well in my eyes again and I start laughing. “Yes. I’m sorry,” I say in reference to the tears I’m wiping away. “I’m an emotional mess. Pregnancy hormones and …” My voice fades, realizing I’ve touched on the taboo topic we’ve yet to discuss. The uncomfortable silence settles between us. Colton grips the steering wheel tight and blows out a loud breath before climbing out of the car without another word.

He opens the back door, and collects some things, and then helps me out of the Rover. “Easy,” he says as I slide gingerly off of the seat.

“I’m okay.”

We link hands and walk a ways down the beach in silence. There are people here today, unlike the last time we were here months ago—our first official date. The fact that he thought to bring me to a place I find solace in makes my heart happy.

“This okay?” he asks as he lets go of my hand and lays a blanket out onto the sand. He sets a brown paper bag down and then puts his hands on my hips as I start to sit down.

“I’m not going to break,” I say softly to him even though I love the feeling of his hands on me—strength, comfort, and security—all three things given with their simple placement.

He sits down behind me, frames my legs with his, and pulls me back against his chest, leaving his arms wrapped tight around me. He lowers his mouth and chin to the curve of my neck and sighs. “I know you’re not going to break, Ry, but you came damn close. I know you’re strong and independent and used to doing things all by yourself, but please just let me take care of you right now, okay? I need … I need you to let me do this.” He ends his words with a kiss pressed to my skin but never moves his mouth, he just keeps it there so I can feel the warmth of his breath and the chafe of his stubble.

“Okay,” I murmur, a deep sigh on my lips and a twinge in my abdomen reminding me that we need to talk. I tilt my chin toward the sun and close my eyes, welcoming the warmth because I still feel the cold inside of me.

“Just say it,” he tells me, exasperation lacing his voice. “I can feel you tensing up, pretending your mind isn’t going a million miles a minute with whatever it is you want to ask me. You’re not going to relax like you need to until you say it.” He chuckles, his chest vibrating against my back, but I can sense he’s not too thrilled.

I close my eyes a moment, not wanting to ruin the peace between us but at the same time needing to address the underlying tension. “We need to talk about … the baby …” I finally manage and am proud of myself that my voice didn’t waver like it has over the past few days every time I try to bring this up. “You’re not talking to me and I don’t know what you’re thinking … what you’re feeling? And I need to know …”

“Why?” The single word snaps out, a knee jerk reaction I’m sure since I can’t see his face, but can feel his body tense up. “Why does it matter?” he finally asks again with a little more control in his voice.

Because that’s what you do when you’re in a relationship , I want to tell him but exhale softly instead. “Colton, something major happened to us … to me at least—”

“To us,” he corrects, and his comment throws me for a moment. It’s the first time he’s really acknowledged the baby we lost. Something we created together that linked us together indefinitely.

“… to us. But I don’t know how you feel. I know my world has been rocked and I’m reeling with everything. I just … You’re here and going through this with me, but at the same time I feel like you’re closing yourself off, not talking to me.” I sigh, knowing I’m rambling but not sure how to break through to him. I give it one last try. “You tell me you need me to let you take care of me. I understand that. Can you understand that I need you to talk to me? That you can’t shut me out right now? The last thing I need to be right now is worried about where we stand.”

I force myself to stop rambling because I can hear the desperation in my voice, and he still hasn’t responded, so now we’re surrounded by an awkward silence. Colton starts to pull away from me, and I immediately prepare myself for the emptiness of him distancing himself when I need him the most. Then I feel his nose nuzzle into the back of my hair and just breathe me in. I close my eyes as chills dance over my skin because I know he’s not going to push me away, but rather is taking his Colton way of taking a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Rylee…” he sighs my name in that way that makes me hold my breath because there’s so much emotion packed in it. He rests his forehead against the back of my head as his hands squeeze my arms. “I can’t talk about it . I just can’t.” And the way he says it tells me that he’s referring to the baby. “I can only deal with one thing at a fucking time, and right now I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I almost lost you.”

He rocks his forehead back and forth against my head. “I’m not used to feeling, Ry. I’m used to being numb … running the first time shit gets too real. And you, us, this …” He sighs “… it’s as fucking real as real can get. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched by what happened when I was just getting used to the new fucking normal. I’m shaken up. I don’t know which goddamn way is up, but I’m dealing with it the best way I know how right now. And that means dealing with getting the image of you looking like a lifeless Raggedy Ann doll out of my head.”

His words reach into the depths of my soul and give me back the tiny pieces of hope I lost with the miscarriage and the fears that ate at me from his silence. So he doesn’t want to—can’t—deal with the baby, at least he’s told me. And as much as I want and need to speak to him about it, reassure him that he’s what I need and everything else can be figured out later, I keep quiet and let him deal with what happened to me.

I shift between his legs so I’m sitting sideways in his lap, my legs resting over the top of one of his. I need to see his face, need to show him I’m okay. I look into his eyes brimming with confusion and reach a hand up to rest on his cheek with a soft smile on my lips. “I’m okay, Colton. You saved me.” I lean in and brush a tender kiss on his lips that I can’t seem to ever get enough of. “Thank you for saving me.”