Broken by Nicola Haken

Author:Nicola Haken [Haken, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-02-29T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

~Theo~

I haven’t been able to take my eyes off James’ face the whole time we’ve been lying in his bed, although he’s barely looked at me. The things he’s just revealed leave me feeling quietly terrified, yet I’m also completely in awe of him. All I can think about is that broken teenage boy, alone in his room with no one to hold him, no one to help him.

How was that allowed to happen? He was a child. I don’t care how good an actor he says he is, somebody should’ve seen.

“I’m sorry, Theodore.” The sound of his gravelled voice makes me realise I’ve been silent for several minutes. “It’s too much. I’ve said too much.”

“It is too much. What you’ve been through is too much. The lack of support you’ve had is too much. But the fact you trust me enough to tell me everything you just did, that you let me in, showed me who you are…No, James. That’s not too much.”

“I’d convinced myself you’d leave,” he says, palming my cheek. “Part of me still thinks you should.”

Part of me wants to, but I’m bound too tightly to him, to every side of him, to the strong and assured CEO, and the vulnerable, breaking man hiding beneath the surface. But I have no experience with mental illness and, honestly, it petrifies me. What if he’s dragged into that blackness again? How do I get him out? What if he really is a good liar and I don’t notice his demons strangling him until it’s too late?

Can I live with so much uncertainty? Will a relationship entail me scrutinising his every move, every expression? How sad is too sad? How happy is too happy?

Am I strong enough?

I have no idea. All I know is when I uttered the word love it was an accident, but it wasn’t a lie.

I love him.

I’m in love with him.

And it scares the ever living hell out of me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, hitching myself closer to him and burying my face in his neck.

His stubble grates against my cheek as I kiss the throbbing vein in his throat before I inch lower, pressing my lips to his chest. His taut muscles are littered with scars. Most are faded, silvery lines. Some are thick, raised, and some are tiny circles that spark soul-destroying images of him extinguishing cigarettes on his flesh.

Tears sting like grains of salt in the back of my eyes as my lips travel across his skin, kissing each mark in turn. Angling my head, I look up at his face and his expression twists into curiosity, maybe even fear.

“How can you stand to do that?” he asks, his stare intense.

“Kiss you?”

“Kiss…them. They’re hideous.”

“They are part of you, and you’re beautiful.”

I peck feather-light kisses up to his neck before crawling onto my knees and straddling him, taking his face in my hands. “So let me kiss you,” I whisper against his lips. “Let me love you.”

A small gasp seeps from his mouth.

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