Chapter Nineteen

THREE WEEKS LATER she cut the ribbon. She stood beside the dean and smiled while the cameras flashed, wearing a flattering dress, a hair shorter, the slit a little higher than the old Parker would have dared. Kristina was gone, but not forgotten. She echoed in everything, but Parker was learning to feel her presence as a gift and to stop aching over her loss. Life was good. She ran, she still loved her job, Marion’s baby was due in just over a month, and she’d been on a slew of first dates that never became more, but she enjoyed them all the same.

Someone shook her hand, and the congratulations on the new library wing didn’t feel bought. Kristina had written a check, and maybe that was part of the motivation for her presence at the ceremony, but more than that, she had invested her time here, her passion. She had earned this.

The dean caught her eye and waved her over, probably to meet some other important figure now the formal part of the ceremony was done. She shook hands and smiled genuinely, conscious of the way the man’s eyes lingered on her appreciatively. A soft blush colored her cheeks when her phone rang, and seeing Marion’s name on the screen, she excused herself.

“Is everything okay?”

Her companions must have heard the pitchy anxiety in the words, because they fell away immediately, giving her privacy.

“Yes… Well, sort of…”

Her anxiety roared.

“Are you having the baby?”

“What…? No, no, not that.”

She had barely breathed a sigh of relief before the next fear floated forth. “Is everything okay with the baby, though, and Roland and—”

“Parker. Stop. I’m just going to say it, okay?”

Her heart plummeted, and the seconds Marion drew in a breath felt like an entire day, a whole week.

“Kristina’s in the hospital.”

Kristina… Marion was calling her, from pathology…

“Is she…” She stumbled to the side of the room and slipped behind one of the new stacks and out of sight. She tried again.

“Is she… Marion…” It was a whimper, tears already in her eyes.

“No! Oh God, sweetie, no, no, she’s not with me. She’s alive. It was Emily who came to tell me. She came through the ER. She’s in neurology now. I don’t know what happened or how long ago she was admitted…”

Her heart beat frenetic, her body hummed with energy, starting deep in her chest and burning its way out. It all rushed back and through her, the phone call, the drinking, a million possibilities, and the thought of Kristina, Kristina, Kristina in the emergency room.

“Parker.” Marion brought her back to the present. “I just thought you’d want to know. I can try to find out—”

“No.” She cut her off, certain now, already walking, rushing, running as soon as she hit the corridor. “I’m coming.”

 

THE HOSPITAL HAD always made her feel sick, stifled. Before, it was the place where it happened, where her wife betrayed her and everyone knew. Then, it was Amanda’s turf, a place where Parker was no longer welcome, a place where she didn’t want to be anyway, not when she was the last to know and they all knew that. None of it mattered as she skidded through the double doors, bypassing the front desk and sliding into the elevator with a group of nurses she thankfully didn’t recognize.

The floors ticked by too slowly, too many people entering and exiting, and her foot tapped, louder, louder until the woman beside her eyed it pointedly. Yet she couldn’t make it still. Kristina in the emergency room, Kristina in neurology. Her brain screamed “Kristina” over and over, a million different scenarios, a constant reel of a million moments with her passed. The elevator jerked to a halt on her floor, and she was out, squeezing through the metal doors before they were fully open.

“I’m here to see Kristina Diaz.”

She was breathless with the declaration as she forced herself to stop at the front desk. The woman looked up from her computer, slow, lazy in the face of what felt like her own body moving in hyperspeed.

“Miss Diaz isn’t accepting visitors.”

Parker grit her teeth, taking a breath and blowing it out rather than letting all her fear, her frustration, spill out on this woman who was just doing her job.

“I need to see her, please.” She plastered on her best diplomatic smile. “It’s important.”

“I understand.” It was clear from her tone that she didn’t understand at all. “But Miss Diaz is not—”

“I need to speak to your department head, now.” Parker let her tone cool, clipped and entitled, matching the one she had seen Amanda use so many times, the one that always got her what she wanted, because she fuck it, she didn’t want to see Kristina; she needed to.

The woman sucked in a breath, nodding. “Take a seat, ma’am. I’ll see if she’s available.” She got up and left the desk, but Parker stayed. Her skin prickled, her fingers felt numb, and Kristina was here, somewhere, in one of these side rooms, in some state of hurt… She heard talking from the door behind the nurses’ station, and they were going to deny her, she knew already. Visiting was heavily restricted on a lot of the wards, save for immediate family and…

An idea sprung up and she dug through her purse. She opened her wallet and ignored the churning in her guts at the sight of her old wedding rings inside. She had planned to finally take them to be valued sometime this week, in the spirit of moving on… Moving on. God, that felt so long ago now, so alien when Kristina was hurt.

The cold metal of the engagement band felt foreign yet achingly familiar. Trying to ignore the weight of it, she fumbled her wallet closed, and shouldered her purse just in time to look up and greet the tired eyes of the department head.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but the patient you’re inquiring about—”

“I need to see my fiancée, now.” She spat the words, impatient. “Can someone please show me the way, or do I need to call my lawyer?”

A beat passed between the two women in front of her, and Parker saw their uncertainty in it.

“Let me go and check…” She followed the nurse’s line of sight down the hall, and of course. She was off, moving fast, heels clicking against the smooth tile floor before they had time to go on. All the floors were more or less the same, and she remembered from the few times she’d visited with Amanda, years ago when she was still shiny enough and new enough and important enough to be included in her life here, that they all had private rooms at the very end of the corridor.

“Ma’am!”

Sneakers slapped the floor behind her and she heard them calling security, but none of it mattered. She was breathless, heart racing, frenetic energy burning through her when she threw open one of the doors at the end of the corridor.

The empty bed tore at her soul. Turning, she threw open the other door, glancing back at the ward staff who were hovering halfway down the corridor, calling back to security as they stepped off the elevator; then she stepped inside.

A hand grabbed her arm, a gun was shoved in her face, and there was a shout and a yelp, and then Kristina was in her arms, pale-faced and clinging to her, shoving the gun away from her face with one hand. Parker wrapped her arms around her and held on.

Garbled Spanish spilled back into English. “Put that away now, she’s with me, she’s okay…” as Parker struggled to catch up.

“Kristina…”

Kristina’s eyes finally left the man with the gun, looking up at her from above shadows. Studying the split in her lip, the bruising that spilled down from under her left eye and over her cheekbone, Parker squeezed her tighter on instinct. Her hands fell away when Kristina hissed.

”Ma’am.” The door burst open behind them, and two security officers stepped inside, tasers pointed at her. Looking around to the psycho who had a gun trained on her not two minutes before, Parker found no trace of the weapon.

“She’s fine. She can stay.”

Kristina was holding on to her, a hand possessive at her waist, though the other was across her own middle almost like she was holding herself up, together. Parker stepped up to her side, and reached out to support her gently, watching her wince as she sagged against her.

“Miss Diaz.”

The nurse from the desk appeared next. “This woman…” She paused as she studied the two of them. “Your fiancée…” It wasn’t quite a question, and everyone looked at everyone.

“My fiancée will be staying.” Tired as she looked, humor touched Kristina’s eyes at the words. Despite the bruises on her face, the blood, Parker felt some of the heaviness leave her chest.

The hospital staff filed out with an apology to Kristina, and one for another man in the corner who she hadn’t noticed before. He was eyeing her shrewdly, dark eyes studying her as his face betrayed nothing. He looked a few years older than her, and Parker was just about to wonder who he was, before Kristina sucked in a breath as she moved to step back to the bed, and it all came back to her.

“What happened? Marion called me…” She followed her frantically, hovering, unsure where to touch her without hurting her, as she moved woodenly, sinking down to sit on the bed, grimacing.

“She was in a car accident,” the older man supplied helpfully, the words heavily accented.

“A car accident?” She was shrieking, but she couldn’t help it. She sat carefully on the bed beside her. “This is what happens when you drive like a…a…an idiot. You could have been killed, look at you…”

Kristina had been trying to interrupt her, saying her name over and over, but panic was bubbling up in her chest and this had all happened so fast and…

“Parker.”

A cool hand was on her arm and dark eyes were on hers, and she saw the pain the movement had caused.

“I’m fine… I’m fine, really.”

She was finally able to take a breath, to drink her in, the curve of her lip and the shape of her chin, the black of her lashes against the bloody purple of the bruises on her face.

She could have lost her. The thought roared in her head. She loved her, then, now, always. The words rang in her ears, and the moment was swelling, heavy, spilling, everything raw and open and pulled to the surface. Kristina’s tongue moved across her bottom lip, and Parker drew in a breath, rough with nerves and sweet with anticipation, because she couldn’t live in a world where Kristina didn’t exist.

“Shall we talk about the engagement now?”

They sprang apart guiltily at the interruption. Parker’s cheeks flamed as she remembered they weren’t alone in the room. Kristina recovered first.

“Caesar, wait outside.”

The guy with the gun disappeared on command, and Parker eyed him as he left them alone with the older man.

“Papa, she was just—”

“Is this what all this has been about? The drinking, the parties, the driving while drunk?”

Parker couldn’t help herself.

“You were drinking and driving again? Krissie, you could have been killed… You could… Do you have any idea how irresponsible… What were you thinking?”

Thoughts slipped into and over each other, and Kristina gawked at her, cheeks red until her eyes flitted back to the man, and Parker realized he was her father.

“I’m sorry.” The apology was automatic. “I just…”

“No, please.” He looked amused in the face of her discomfort. “Go on. She doesn’t listen to me; perhaps she will listen to her future wife.” He was toying with them both and her cheeks burned in response.

“Papa, please.” Kristina was as shamefaced as Parker had ever seen her, and a part of her was gratified at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” Parker cleared her throat when the words came out rough. “It was the only way they’d let me in.” She yanked the ring off her finger and stuffed it in her pocket, trying to ignore the silence that had engulfed the room.

“I should go,” Kristina’s father said. “Caesar will stay until you’re discharged. Call me from home?”

Kristina answered in soft Spanish, and Parker heard the apology in the words she couldn’t translate as she studied the tiles. A large tan hand appeared and she looked up.

“Mario Diaz.”

Her fingers slid into his without any real thought. “Parker Freeman. I apologize for the intrusion.”

They shook hands, and then he let her go.

“No intrusion, Miss Freeman, but perhaps now you are here this…recklessness will be done, yes?”

What started as a conversation with her turned into a question for Kristina. Kristina bowed her head, sufficiently chastised, her agreement soft.

“Call me from home, Mariposa.”

The door clicked closed, and then they were alone.

In the silence, Parker was catching up, wrapping her brain around all this for the first time since Marion had called her. She was here, with Kristina. Kristina had been in an accident. She turned to Kristina, whose dark eyes rose to meet her gaze. Her own fell.

“Oh my…”

She reached out, stopping herself just before the pads of her fingers made contact with the deep-purple bruise just visible over the neckline of Kristina’s shirt, climbing over her collarbone and disappearing at her left shoulder.

“It’s from the seat belt.”

The words were quiet, guilty.

“Kristina…” She paused to wet her lips, and to try to clear the judgment from her tone. She was scared, and she wanted to lash out, but with Kristina’s presence sinking into her bones, Parker let herself focus on relief instead.

“What happened?”

Kristina let out a little puff of breath that became a gasp of pain when she half shrugged.

“I wrecked my car. I called my dad before I blacked out, which is why I’m in the hospital and not in jail. I have cracked ribs and a concussion, but other than that… I’m fine.”

Parker watched her breathe out the words. She didn’t look fine. Before Parker could tell her as much, ask her what she had been thinking, Kristina was speaking.

“Why did you come?”

Her cheeks flamed at that, rejection burning hot in her throat, before cool fingers settled over her own, the movement making Kristina grimace, though she held her hand, tight.

“No… I didn’t mean it like that. I just… Why do you care?”

The smallness in her voice when she asked the question tamped down some of the anger it incited in Parker.

“Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean my feelings changed. I still care about you. I didn’t get to just click that off when you drove away that morning.”

They both knew which one she was talking about, the goodbyes outside her house. Stony silence hung over them, yet Kristina didn’t let go of her hand, and that spurred Parker on.

“Marion called, and all I knew was that you were in the hospital. I wasn’t sure how bad it was and I…panicked and then I was driving, and I just…had to know you were okay.”

She swallowed, unable to meet Kristina’s eyes.

“Why did you meet with Brenna?”

“Really? Of all the things you could say to me right now, that’s what you choose?”

Part of her felt guilty at the whispered apology she received. Kristina refused to look at her, pitiful with one arm around her middle like she was holding herself together, one hand still clinging to her own. Parker sniffed, trying to clear her head.

Silence settled over them again. She clutched Kristina’s hand tight and tried to think beyond her presence, beyond those slim fingers that felt so right in her own, beyond all these things she ached for still, but could never have.

“Would you be more comfortable lying down?”

She asked the question quietly, catching Kristina’s eyes shoot open, her neck straightening as she jolted awake beside her, clearing her throat.

“I don’t know. It literally hurts to breathe right now. I just want to go home.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Kristina unwound her arm from around herself and was halfway to reaching for a cup of water from the nightstand before Parker stopped her.

“Let me.”

Untangling their fingers was almost painful, but somehow she managed it. Standing, careful not to jostle her, she retrieved the water. Kristina’s eyes tracked her movement, flitting between her and the door. Parker couldn’t decipher if she was hoping she’d leave, or hoping she’d stay.

“CT results, I think.”

Kristina took a long swallow, and Parker had to tear her eyes away from the slim column of her throat, the bruise starting at its base and spilling bloody across her chest, violent shades of red and purple.

“Miss Diaz.”

Parker’s cheeks colored as the nurse from the front desk appeared in the doorway, glancing at her before her gaze fell to Kristina.

“Your results came back. Everything looks fine, but the doctor will be by in just a few minutes to speak with you and discharge you. Here’s the paperwork. Could you make a start?”

Parker stood automatically to receive the clipboard and carried it back to Kristina as the nurse closed the door.

“Do you need help or…?”

Shaking her head, Kristina took the board. She balanced it with some effort across her lap and started the discharge forms.

Parker watched her write, noticing the smooth curve of her script as she wrote her name.

“Your middle name is Maria?”

When Kristina looked up at her, a light blush colored her cheeks.

“It is. Why are you looking at me…like that?”

Parker shrugged. Suddenly the right words eluded her.

“There’s just…so much I don’t know about you, yet I…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish.

“You know more about me than anyone in the world who isn’t family.” The sincerity in Kristina’s voice stirred something inside her, waking it, making it dance to the siren song of hope.

“More than Mal?”

She didn’t know why she asked, it wasn’t important, but Kristina answered anyway.

“Yes. More than Mal. More than anyone.”

The eye contact was loaded. Hurt as Kristina was, vulnerable as she looked, dark eyes suddenly warm, lips slightly parted, her beautiful face bloodied and bruised, it was so easy to want to lean in. Parker ached to kiss her, to wrap her arms around her and never let go. There was so much she didn’t know about her still, and she wanted to, badly.

She wanted early morning yoga, and breakfast for dinner at IHOP. She wanted slim fingers tight on her throat and obsidian eyes on her, always.

“Parker.”

It was there in her voice, just like it had always been, and she could so easily believe Kristina wanted it too. She had no idea who leaned in first, no idea when Kristina’s eyes fell closed, thick lashes brushing her bruised cheek, no idea when she’d decided to wet her lips, to close the gap, to throw caution into the wind and just…

“Miss Diaz?”

They shot apart. Kristina yelped softly, the clipboard falling to the floor with a clatter.

“Ah yes, Maggie mentioned your fiancée was here. Doctor Douglas.”

The woman held out her hand, and Parker rose to her feet. She grabbed the fallen paperwork first, and then straightened to shake with fervor. The blush on her cheeks felt nuclear.

 

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE to go to all this trouble.”

Parker took her eyes from the road to look at her for just a second, before she returned them to the traffic. Broken ribs and a concussion; the last thing Kristina needed was another wreck because Parker was completely distracted by her presence.

“And who would have taken you home if I hadn’t?”

Irritation simmered close to the surface as she glanced in the rearview, because she already knew the answer. Sure enough, behind them a black sedan weaved in and out of traffic, catching up until, again, its front bumper was almost pressed to her back one.

“Caesar would have—”

“Probably killed you on the drive.” She cut over her, glaring again, wishing for the car behind them to disappear.

“What’s the issue with Caesar? Explain it for me.” There was a flash of the old Kristina in the command, and it made Parker ache down to her bones for a different time, a different them, back when she was Kristina’s. She shoved the feeling away.

“Let’s see. He stuck a gun in my face. How did he even get that into the hospital, by the way? Who is he, and why is he following us?”

When she risked one more glance at Kristina, she looked harrowed, hair pulled back into an unruly knot at the nape of her neck, the bruise on her cheek intensifying, dark eyes tired.

“I’ve said I’m sorry about the gun, sweetheart.”

The words were breathed out, exhausted. Combined with the endearment, Parker instantly relented, more than a little guilty.

Streets became familiar, and by the time they were turning into Kristina’s large driveway, an odd sense of nostalgia was washing over her. Caesar was already out of his car and approaching, ready to input the code into the security system. Faster, Parker stabbed the numbers, somehow gloriously justified when the gates swung open for her like they always had.

The man asked a question in quick, clipped Spanish. Kristina couldn’t have answered if she’d wanted to, because they were already driving inside. Parker tried not to think about the fact she hadn’t changed the code, what it meant that Kristina, who trusted so little, had trusted her like that.

When she’d rounded the car and tugged open Kristina’s door, she was still sitting there, belted in and looking miserable.

“Smugness doesn’t suit you.”

The words came out with the ghost of a smile, a trace of humor, though she stayed frozen in the seat. Parker shrugged them off and leaned down, ready to help her unbuckle and get out, which would be an ordeal if getting her in was anything to go by.

“Miss Diaz…”

Caesar was around her in a second, already leaning over. He slid his large hand down into her car and released the seat belt before peeling it carefully away from Kristina’s chest. He moved around her with so much familiarity. Parker felt her jaw working, teeth grinding, an old habit she had thought she’d quit. What was he even doing here?

Finally on her feet, a glaze of tears over her eyes from the effort, Kristina caught sight of Parker’s face. Quick Spanish spilled from her lips as she stepped out of Caesar’s hold, and looking chastised, he stepped back.

They started toward the door in silence. It only took two slow steps before Parker was in his place, her hands on Kristina’s shoulders, holding her steady.

“Let me.”

Parker reached around her, trying to ignore the achingly familiar scent of Kristina’s shampoo as she took the purse from her hand. Parker found her familiar bunch of keys and unlocked the door after Kristina pointed her to the right one. She took way more joy than she should have in slamming the door behind them in Caesar’s face.

Kristina gave her a dark look, a sliver of amusement in her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

Good.

Parker clicked the lock into place and followed her deeper into the house.

It was strange to be back there, her mind already spilling back to the first time she had walked down this hall, all the moments since. Kristina pinning her against the front door, her first tentative steps into the living room, the way those dark eyes had watched her, burning with amusement as she’d realized Kristina was going to be her Domme, the hot breath on the back of her neck the very first time she’d made her come.

“What are you thinking about?”

She was looking up at her now, pale and tired as she struggled to find a comfortable position on the sofa where they’d made love, before it all went horribly wrong.

“Nothing.” It hurt to deny it all, to turn it all to dust, but what’s past was gone.

Kristina watched her with guarded eyes as she hovered, and Parker knew she didn’t buy it.

“Do you need a drink or anything?”

Kristina’s eyebrows shot up, interested.

“Water, Krissie, Jesus… After all this.”

“Enough.” The snap surprised Parker, and her lips clicked closed automatically. “Come and sit down, please.” It wasn’t quite a request, but it was gentler, and it was still enough to make her spine tingle all the way down to her toes as she did.

Kristina studied her for a long moment, and Parker studied her in return. Quiet, still, the same pull, the longing that had found her in the hospital returned, and here, in the house that had just been beginning to feel like home when she’d lost it all, it was worse than ever.

“You look beautiful. Did I tell you that yet?”

The words were careful. Delivered as confidently as always, but there was a sliver of restraint in them, and Parker sensed it easily. She thanked her, smoothing her hands over the modest dress she’d picked out this morning for the library opening. It felt like forever ago now.

“Where were you when Marion called?”

She shot her an accusing glance, and Kristina held her gaze, defiant.

“I was busy.” It was childish and she knew it, but a little part of her wanted to let Kristina believe there was someone else, another Brenna, another her. That life had gone on after her. If the thought of her with someone else still made her jealous, then good. It was clear from her stormy expression it did.

“I have to shower.” She was as cool, as detached as Parker had ever heard her, and she knew she’d struck a nerve.

“Let Caesar in on your way out.”

Parker’s hackles rose at that.

“What, you like guys now? Is that why you didn’t want to be with me?”

Kristina’s face cracked, going from stormy to thunderous, as she struggled to her feet, clutching her chest, hissing.

“We’ve been over this. I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

Parker shot up after her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, why you couldn’t.”

“You know why I couldn’t.” They were moving slowly back down the hall, and part of her was panicking because she wasn’t ready for this to end; she wasn’t ready to be on the outside again, away from her. “And Caesar has nothing to do with it. He’s my driver and guard, nothing more.”

Parker spluttered. “You have a bodyguard now?”

Something flashed across Kristina’s face, and Parker couldn’t help but think she looked caught.

“Who are you? Do I even know you at all?” Tears were spilling onto her cheeks, and she didn’t know if she wanted to surge forward and kiss her or turn and run. It hurt. It still ached like it was yesterday they’d said goodbye, and now, so confusingly, maddeningly close to her, with everything so broken and twisted, she wanted to burn it all and she wanted to drown in it.

Kristina swayed on her feet, and Parker stepped up to her without thinking. She held her hips, careful not to touch her torso.

“Was any of it real?”

When Kristina’s dark eyes met hers, they were wet with tears, and Parker already knew. Kristina loved her.

Her heart beat hard, and for a second, she believed Kristina was about to lean up and kiss her, and somehow they could find their way through all this together. Instead, Kristina finally stepped back, looking agonized. Parker knew she was trying to find the words to say goodbye again.

“I’m not leaving.” She dropped her purse on the side table, decided, steely in her resolution as Kristina opened her mouth to protest. “The doctor said you need to be monitored for seventy-two hours, and I doubt that buffoon can even tell the time, let alone recognize the subtle causes for concern that can accompany a concussion.”

Kristina wet her lips, one arm still around herself. She looked totally exhausted.

Whatever had happened between them, Parker didn’t want to see her hurt, to see her suffer. Swiping her fingers across her cheeks, she promised herself she would stay to make sure Kristina was all right, nothing more, and then… She didn’t let herself think it, not yet.

“I’m going to run a bath for you.” She strode off down the hall, leaving Kristina to trail slowly behind her.

 

THE HOUSE WAS quiet when Parker stepped out of the shower. She had run the bath. She’d laid out clean underwear and sweats and tried to ignore the way her heart constricted at the now-painful familiarity she had with Kristina’s life. She’d turned on the coffee machine and dug around in the un-emptied dishwasher for Kristina’s favorite mug, and went to the store for the low-fat creamer she insisted on when she saw she was out. Parker had also studiously avoiding running into Caesar and his stupid shiny black car that was still parked in the driveway, just barely. The sun was long down behind the horizon before she’d headed to take her own shower.

She made her way down the hall, borrowed yoga pants and a T-shirt that smelled like Kristina clinging to her still slightly damp skin, and looked for Kristina in her bedroom. Something stirred in the pit of her stomach at the sight of that wrought-iron bed frame, the familiar gray sheets. Memories assaulted her like physical touches, crawling over her toes and winding around her ankles as if they’d twisted in the sheets, up and up her calves like the drag of smooth fingertips, cold over her fingers like the iron in her hands, all swirling and settling in the pit of her stomach, the ghost of so many nights spent here, some of her happiest, freest, wildest ever. She turned and rushed back down the hall.

Parker was breathless when she found her. Whether it was from the memories or the sight of her she didn’t know. Dark hair fell across her face, her body propped up at an odd angle against the arm of the sofa, the dim light of the lamp illuminating her sleeping form.

Finally, Parker felt like she had a moment, time just to breathe Kristina in, to appreciate being back in her orbit, from the dark place so far from the sun that had become her life without her. She crept forward and sat beside her, taking the throw from the back of the oversized sofa and tucking it around them both. Kristina was small like this, still, as beautiful as she had been in any of their moments. Parker had fallen in love with her for all her brazen confidence, for all her cool commands and sexual prowess, and the new outlook on life she had shared with her. Yet studying her now, she knew she had fallen in love with this side of her too, the side of her she could never quite touch. Something smaller and less sure lived underneath Kristina’s dominant persona, and all the moments, the soft kisses and the teary confessions, where it had reared its head, Parker had loved it just as much.

Amanda had been the known, the planned, the expected. Kristina was everything beyond, yet somehow, Parker felt she belonged with her more than she ever had with Amanda.

Kristina’s hair was silky between Parker’s fingers as she brushed it back from her face. Her thick lashes brushed her blanched cheeks before Kristina opened her eyes to catch her.

“Parker?”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Think you can make it to bed?”

Kristina groaned.

“At least scoot down a little bit so your neck isn’t sore in the morning too then?”

Complying, together, they worked Kristina’s battered body down and sideways until she lay on the sofa, her breaths shallow from the pain. Parker made a mental note to do some research on broken ribs. She had no idea if this level of pain was normal. By the time she spread the throw carefully over her, Kristina’s eyes were already closed.

Forcing herself to stop hovering, Parker turned, not ready to spend her first night in the house in the guest room.

“Parker.”

It was barely a whisper, but when she looked back, Kristina’s eyes were on her. If Kristina had known what she wanted to say, it must have died on her lips. Silence stretched out, but somehow, Parker understood. Sitting herself down on the carpet by the sofa, she reached up slowly and carded her fingers through Kristina’s thick hair.

“Go to sleep, honey. I’ll be here.”

Kristina closed her eyes, a long sigh leaving her lips. Parker’s already-broken heart shattered.