Finding You, Looking for Me: A Henry Cavill FanFic

Part 25: Making Up

I woke up and checked the time on my phone. 2:08am. I had dozens of missed calls and texts. Most of them were from Henry, some of them were private numbers, and one of them was Emily.

Kal was still by my side, nuzzling my cheek. "Oh, honey, I need to take you out," I told him. I patted him on the head, and reached for the phone again. I began to read the texts from Henry.

Call me back, Sarah.

I love you. We'll sort this out.

I'm sorry I got so angry.

It was after 7pm in Calgary. I clicked on Henry's name and the phone began to ring.

"Sarah," he breathed into the phone, sounding relieved.

"Baby," I whispered. "I'm sorry," I told him, the sound barely escaping my lips.

"There are photos. You haven't been identified...yet," he said, sounding business-like. "I'm going to turn this over to Dany and her PR people. I'm not sure exactly what to do about this." He paused. "I didn't mean it, Sarah."

"You didn't even say it," I whispered.

"You were right. I nearly said exactly that, Sarah," he whispered back. "It wasn't your fault. I know that. I need you to know that."

I nodded to myself—not believing him. I had failed Oliver, and I knew that. I couldn't convince myself otherwise.

"Did you see the photos?" I said carefully.

He hesitated. "No. I'd rather not."

I was relieved that he hadn't seen any photos. I had no idea what he would find—but if my memory served me correctly, it wasn't going to be flattering. We stayed on the phone for a bit longer, staying quiet for most of the call. He promised that he loved me and he would come home earlier than the week had initially planned.

As he whispered his goodbye to me, I imagined running my fingers across his creamy skin. I thought of kissing him across his chest. "I need you," I reminded him.

I heard him suck in a breath, "And I need you."

Henry came home a few days later. I had not left the house since the night he rescued me from my own poor choices. When the door flung open, Henry tossed his leather duffle bag to the ground, pet Kal, and moved swiftly towards me. He grabbed my bottom with both hands and hoisted me up, I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me hard and walked us directly to the sofa closest to us.

"Oh, baby," I whispered. I kissed his lips, his chin, his jaw, his neck—my arms tightly wrapped around him.

"I need you," he told me, emphasizing each word. His face was pale and his eyes were bloodshot—he looked exhausted. But the blue of his eyes were endless and his lips were full and parted, his tongue not far behind. I nodded in excited agreement.

He sat me down on the sofa, not breaking contact, finally kneeling between my thighs. I wouldn't pull my hands or mouth off of him. My desperation for him was palpable. He tore himself away, holding me at arm's length, watching me through his long lashes.

"I saw the photos, Sarah," he said quietly to me.

I froze.

My eyes were big, my heart in my throat. Tears silently slipped down my face. My jaw dropped, and I weighed what to say to him.

He tilted his head down, his eyes on the floor. "I was angry...and pained."

"Oh, baby," I whispered.