I Always Will

Your Hands Can Bruise

Paul slammed the door to his truck shut before making his way up to the house. He knocked and stepped back, waiting on Briony to answer. When she did, a grin filled her face as she stepped back and let him in, already launching into a detailed explanation of her day.

The house was still a bit of a wreck, though he had to admit that the kitchen was starting to come together. It was looking less like a construction zone, though Briony still couldn't fully use it. But at least the new appliances had been delivered that day.

Clearing his throat, Paul focused on following Briony to the deck, his thoughts once again returning to that night he had inadvertently run here. Seeing that Briony wasn't in any condition for company or to discuss what he had wanted, he had left, but told himself the next time he saw her, he would bring up the book and that fateful day on the beach when they were 15.

But he hadn't.

It had been several days, and each time Paul opened his mouth to speak about it, he chickened out. Or he saw Rachel in his mind and the guilt would overtake him. Part of him felt like he needed to talk about it with Briony, if anything to get out of his head and stop obsessing over all of it.

Christ, it was 12 years ago. And he had imprinted on someone else. Why was that one moment in their shared past now stuck in his head?

"It's starting to look good," Paul said, looking back into the house.

"Yea, the upstairs furniture came in, but still missing some decor, I think," Briony said with a sigh.

Paul looked over at her as she poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to him.

She seemed calmer. More rested. The bright glint that had always been in her eyes before was starting to come back. Perhaps she was finally getting better. Paul felt a warmth spread in his chest.

Briony was going to be okay, he could feel it.

That was good... wasn't it?

"Just wish I had my kitchen," Briony said, sitting down and shooting him a wry smile. "You have no idea what it's like being unable to cook."

"Sure it won't be much longer until Embry is done with it," Paul said, glancing back into the house to escape her piercing gaze.

For a moment, it felt like the old days when Briony knew in a glance that something was wrong. Sometimes he swore she could read his mind. Would that have come back this quickly?

"How was the clinic today?" Briony asked. Paul looked over at her, eyebrows raised.

"Normal," he said, reaching for his glass and taking a sip. "Helped with a few procedures, but not much going on... you know how small towns are..."

"Yea," Briony said, tilting her head to the side as she studied him.

Shit. She knew. She always fucking knew. Granted, Paul wasn't exactly sure just what it was she knew since he couldn't seem to figure it out himself.

He knew that he had thought about that kiss far too many times the last several days. About Briony in general. He knew he felt a certain way when he thought about her, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. But then just as quickly, the pain would overwhelm him and all he could see was Rachel's face.

However... there was a part of Paul that was curious. If Briony had stayed in town - if she had never left - would everything have been the same?

Would he have still imprinted on Rachel?

There still wasn't a lot that he understood about imprinting - namely exactly how it knew who to choose. Sure, everyone had their theories, but no one really knew. Was there a chance he would have imprinted on Briony? Or were he and Rachel written in the stars and he ended up like Sam, Emily, and Leah?