When the Light Goes Out

Chapter Seventeen

D+33

Henry

Henry awoke with Elizabeth in his arms, their hands entwined and resting against her stomach. She still wore her jeans and tee from the night before. He pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing in the scent of coconut, orange blossom and musk that was so distinctively Elizabeth and synonymous with home. She let out a short sigh and arched into his embrace.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow. A sleepy smile lingered in her words. She let go of his hand and rolled over to face him. With her head resting against his chest, she barely stifled a yawn.

He kissed the top of her head. "Good morning, yourself. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she said. Then her stomach growled. She chuckled. "And hungry."

"Breakfast in bed?"

She shook her head, and her hair tickled his chin. "I want to see the kids." She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. The sparkle had returned to her eyes, not as bright as before, but there nonetheless. "I'm amazed that you actually managed to get them here."

"I know, and I didn't even have to bribe them." He rested his hand against the small of her back and pulled her close, relishing the warmth of her body against his. When was the last time she had let him hold her? Another voice added: How long it would last before she pushed him away again?

But as she slid her hands up his chest, her fingertips leaving trails that burned, those thoughts fled from his mind. She was here now, she was safe, they were going to work through this. "Kiss me?" she said, then bit her lip, and his whole body groaned.

"Dad!"

Elizabeth jumped at Stevie's shout. Henry's grip on her tightened as she pressed her forehead to his chest and let out a long, shaky breath. He rubbed his hand over her back, drawing circles around her lower spine.

The bedroom door swung open. "Why's there a load of security outside?" Stevie's gaze fell to the bed, and she frowned. "Shit, sorry, I didn't know—"

"Mom arrived last night," Henry said. He nodded at the door. "We'll be down in a minute."

Stevie pressed her lips into a firm line, turned on her heel and shut the door behind her.

Henry kissed the top of Elizabeth's head and murmured into her hair, "You okay?"

"I'm—" Elizabeth began. But then she stopped and cleared her throat. "It startled me...That happens a lot now."

And though Henry's chest ached to hear it, to hear the vulnerability in her voice, he thanked God that her vocabulary had expanded beyond 'I'm fine'. He continued to draw circles over her back, the thin cotton of her t-shirt between his fingertips and her skin. "Remember when you came back from Iran and even the sound of the kettle clicking off would make you jump?" She nodded against him. "Well, we got through that, and we'll get through this too." She looked up at him. The spark in her eyes had dimmed. "Thank you for telling me," he said, and he meant every word. "Thank you for letting me in." His gaze flitted to her lips, but he didn't want to presume.

She gave him a soft smile, and then leant in, her chest surging against his, and she claimed his lips in a short yet sweet kiss. It was like reliving their first kisses all over again, when they were testing the boundaries, feeling the urge to be close and the fear of being pushed away.

When she pulled back, she looked into his eyes as if searching for something deep inside of him, and whatever it was, he would have given it willingly. "I love you," she said; an affirmation.