The Love Of My Life

Chapter 14

Maya's POV

I felt completely drained—physically, emotionally, and mentally. My body felt like it wasn't even mine anymore, too heavy to hold up on its own. Every step felt like a monumental task, and I couldn't even think about moving without help. Tony noticed right away, just like he always did. He was at my side before I could even try to steady myself, wrapping an arm around me as if I might collapse at any moment. "Come on," he said softly, his voice steady and warm. "Let me help you," he said, There was no hesitation in his tone, no frustration, just gentle determination. I didn't argue. I couldn't argue. I let him guide me toward the bathroom, his grip firm but tender, like he was afraid of breaking me. The steam from the shower filled the room quickly, warm and comforting, but it still felt like too much effort to even step inside. My legs wobbled as I stood there, gripping the edge of the sink for support. Without a word, Tony stepped closer, his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "I've got you, Baby," he said, his voice low but full of reassurance. He helped me step into the shower, and the warm water hit my skin, cascading down my body. Normally, that kind of thing would feel soothing, but today, it just felt like another reminder of how weak I was. I leaned back against him slightly, letting him support me. He didn't rush. He washed me with so much care that it nearly brought me to tears all over again. His hands moved gently, methodically, as if he was doing more than just cleaning me—he was washing away everything that had been weighing me down. Every touch and every motion was filled with a quiet tenderness that made my chest ache. He didn't say much, but he didn't need to. His actions spoke volumes.

Once the water was turned off, he wrapped me in a soft towel, drying me off with the same care he'd shown in the shower. He sat me down on the edge of the bed, pulling out my lotion and carefully rubbing it into my arms, legs, and shoulders. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I couldn't stop watching him, amazed at how much patience and love he poured into every small act. He found some comfortable clothes for me—something soft and loose—and helped me slip them on. I wanted to tell him I could do it myself, that I wasn't completely helpless, but the truth was, I couldn't. Not right now. Once I was dressed, he pulled back the covers and helped me into bed, tucking the blankets around me like I was something fragile. "I'm going to jump in the shower," he said, brushing his hand lightly over my forehead. "I'll be quick." he finished, I nodded, too tired to say anything, watching as he disappeared back into the bathroom. The sound of the water running was oddly comforting as I lay there, sinking into the mattress. My body felt heavy, but for the first time in so long, it wasn't just exhaustion. It was a relief. When Tony came back, his body wet and a towel slung over his shoulder, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. His face was calm, but I could see the worry lingering in his eyes. "I have a flight at five in the morning," he said softly, almost hesitantly. I nodded again, the words registering, but I didn't have the energy to focus on them. I was too consumed by the warmth of his presence, the comfort of knowing he was here, that he finally knew everything. My husband stood and walked toward the light switch, his hand reaching for it. But before he could turn it off, the panic bubbled up in my chest. "Wait," I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. He turned back immediately, concern flashing across his face. "What's wrong?" he said, looking worried,  "I don't..." I hesitated, feeling the heat of shame crawl up my neck. "I don't want the lights off." He frowned slightly, confused but patient. "Okay. Why?"

I bit my lip, looking away. "I've been scared of the dark lately. I don't know why—it's never bothered me before. But now... I can't stand it." Saying it out loud made me feel so small, so broken. But Tony didn't laugh, didn't question me. He just nodded, walking over to the bedside lamp instead. "We'll leave this on," he said simply. He climbed into bed beside me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His warmth surrounded me, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear as I rested my head against his chest. I let out a long, shaky breath, my body relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. His hand moved gently up and down my back, his touch soothing and constant. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "For what?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine curiosity. "For being here," I said. "For not giving up on me. For... everything." I said, He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "I'll always be here, Baby. No matter what." I closed my eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest lull me into sleep. For the first time in so long, I felt safe. And as the darkness of sleep pulled me under, I felt something I hadn't in weeks—hope. Hope that we'll make it through this. Hope that I wasn't alone anymore. Hope that maybe, just maybe, things will get better.