Still.

5

Lorelei

"I'm sorry," the words tumble from my lips in a mere whisper.

I watch Finley's bare shoulders rise and fall as Rigley skitters by and to his bed with a "click click click" of his nails on the hard floor of our home. Fin runs a rough hand down his face with a sigh.

"It's fine, Lor." It doesn't sound like it's fine. "Stop apologizing." He's upset with me. I've let him down.

He doesn't turn to look at me once before he's walking down the hall to our bedroom, his trunks leaving drips of water like a trail of breadcrumbs behind him. I feel the weight pressing down on my chest and the pressure building up behind my eyes. We were only at the beach long enough for Finley to run knee-deep into the ocean and for Rigley to run after him, soaking his coat fully. Then I was ready to go home. It was too much. It was too hard seeing all of the families. All of the children, the tiny and completely alive children. I tried. I really, really tried to endure the building pressure in my chest and the tightness of my heart, but I couldn't take it. And I let Finley down in the process.

I hear the familiar sound of the tub faucet bursting with water and the sound of it shifting to the shower head. I look over at Rigley. He's fast asleep in his bed. Taking a deep breath, I slip my sandals off and quietly make my way down the hall and into the bathroom. I slip my clothes off, avoiding the still fogging mirror, and silently step into the shower with Fin. His back is to me. His hands are pressed flat against the tiles beneath the shower head. His head is hanging in defeat beneath the constant stream of hot water. I made him this way.

I swallow the lump in my throat and use every last bit of courage I have in my being to step forward, eliminating the distance between us, and wrap my arms around his hard torso. His body tenses beneath my touch for a moment before he relaxes into me. He slowly turns around to face me. My cheek falls gently against his chest as his hands find their way up my body to my hair. He strokes the strands as they slowly begin to wet.

"I'm sorry, Lor," he says softly and his voice breaks on my name. I feel his chest heave as he tries to take in another breath. "I'm so sorry."

I peel my cheek from his damp chest and look up to him. His head is still hanging low. His eyes are shut and his brows are woven together in a pained expression. The water from the shower is running down his face and mixing with salty tears.

"W—why are you sorry?" I croak and feel the tears beginning to seep from my own eyes. "It's me. It's my fault. All of this is my fault, Fin. Everything. I couldn't—I couldn't keep her; my body failed me—failed us. I can barely hold myself together. I'm not holding myself together. And I'm just bringing you down with me. I know you don't want me anymore. I know you don't love me anymore. How could you?" At this point, I'm spiraling. My body is shaking despite the hot water beating against the both of us and the steam rolling off of it. I'm not even sure if he can understand me anymore. "I'm so sorry for everything. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Fin's hands suddenly cup my face gently and when I look up at him through blurred tears, his electric blue eyes that I fell in love with years ago are piercing into me.

"What ever made you think that I didn't love you anymore, Lor?" He asks and I can see the emotion swimming in his eyes. He's hurt. "This wasn't your fault, Lorelei. None of this was your fault. There's nothing you did or could have done. And for fuck sake, Lor—" suddenly he's shaking just as much as I am. "I don't think I could stop loving you even if I wanted to. So don't you dare think for a second that I don't. I love you. I've loved you since I saw your crazy ass walking into the ocean that day. I'll always love you, Lorelei. Always."

He looks from eyes to my lips and then he's closing what little space is left between us. His lips mold to mine in a gentle, but needy kiss. He feels like he's holding back, like he's afraid I'm going to push him away if he tries to kiss me with everything he's got. But I want that, I want him to kiss me like he needs me to breathe. So, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him as close to me as I can and I kiss him as fiercely as I did the first time.

His mouth parts and allows me to deepen the kiss as his hands circle my waist and lift me into his arms. My legs wrap instinctively around his waist.

I feel like a kid again. I feel like I did when we first kissed, when we first made love. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like me. And I can't thank him enough for giving me that.