A/N - I love, love, love reading your responses to the chapters! To all of you who have commented on their love for the bathroom in this fic...yes, it is one of my favorites as well for all the time spent there between these two. (If I can find the link I based this suite off of, I will post it with the next chapter!) Here's a new one for you - with more shared bathroom getting ready times. (Which just sounds awkward if you don't read the fic. LOL.) Thanks again for all your support - it means SO MUCH!
They were halfway through breakfast, Felicity popping food in her mouth as she checked on their scans for any new information, when Oliver's phone chimed.
The sudden shift in his body language told Felicity all she needed to know. Pulling himself from his seat, he swiped his thumb over the phone as he strode away, biting out a quick greeting in Russian. Even barefoot and dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, his posture commanded attention.
Oliver's low voice drifted through his open bedroom door, and Felicity found herself pacing from the table to the couch and back again. This could be the lead they'd been waiting for in order to find Digg.
It wasn't until Oliver stepped out of his room that she finally stopped moving and turned to gaze questioningly at him.
"Deadshot is definitely in town. According to the Bratva's contacts, he's been hired by a rogue group to take out a high-standing official within a rivaling organization," Oliver relayed, "But they have no knowledge of Digg being kidnapped or held against his will."
Felicity's brow furrowed at this bit of information. "That still leaves us with a lot of questions."
"Except that we know where Deadshot is going to be tonight, and he isn't expecting me," Oliver stated evenly, his voice adopting that low growl that he usually reserved for his hours under the hood.
Tablet already in hand, Felicity began to pull up the building plans and maps in the area of the event being held tonight that the high-ranking official would be attending according to the Bratva.
"Okay, this place has a very specific guest list from what I can see, but the area is surrounded by buildings - some of them reportedly abandoned due to the economy," Felicity said, her eyes scanning through the information as she swiped through the various screens.
She suddenly missed all of her screens in the foundry that made keeping track of information so much easier.
The couch dipped beside her as he leaned over to get a look at her findings. Pulling up the tab with the surrounding buildings, she handed the tablet to him knowing he would want to go over every possible detail.
They spent the next two hours working together to devise a plan for the night. Oliver had narrowed the buildings that Deadshot would use to take his shot down to two, but he needed to get an actual view of them to make the final call.
After the luncheon, Oliver decided he would ask the driver to swing through that part of the city since it was near some of the more famous buildings and sites.
At half past ten, Felicity realized the both needed to get ready in order to be at the meeting by noon.
Oliver hopped in the shower while Felicity finished reviewing the notes Oliver would need for the meeting before getting ready herself.
She'd decided on a grey dress with blue and green stripes through the fabric. It was more conservative than the one she wore yesterday - the one still in the trashcan in the bathroom. When she'd stripped off Oliver's pullover she'd seen the bruises from the night before, even darker this morning, against her pale skin, and knew she'd need to wear her sweater.
It wasn't until she was ready to do her make-up that she remembered leaving her bag in the bathroom the previous afternoon. Her eyes flitted to the door and back to her watch. They had twenty minutes and it would take her at least ten to finish up her make-up and hair.
Swallowing, she walked to the door that joined her room with the large bathroom and listened. The shower no longer sounded like it was running, but she didn't want to just barge into the bathroom to find a wet, naked Oliver.
Her breath hitched at that thought, a tiny voice in her head saying that she absolutely did want to do that, and she quickly squashed it.
"Oliver?" she called out, her voice wavering more than she liked.
When there was no response, she called out to him again, wondering if he'd already headed to his own bedroom to change.
The door swung open just as she was about to reach for the handle, and a very wet Oliver stood in front of her in nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, accenting his hipbones that jutted out and led her eyes on a downward track.
Her mouth dried up and she forced her eyes up as she let out a small squeak. "Oliver!"
The way his eyes flicked all around the room before returning to her told her that he was on alert for some reason.
"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, eyes scanning over her as if checking for injuries.
She nodded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion until he let out a sigh of relief. "When I heard you calling my name...it's just…"
When he dropped his head, shaking it as if to rid it of unwanted memories, she felt her hand lift of it's own accord, hovering near his chest still dripping with water. Her brain caught up to her movement and she held her arm just away from his skin, wanting to touch him - offer him the comfort he looked like he needed - but knowing that if she did, there was a chance she wouldn't want to stop.
"What?" she asked, swallowing, her desire to know what had him so upset overruling her slight embarrassment at the situation.
"While you slept last night," he sighed, his hands fisting at his sides. "You didn't wake up but you called out my name - and I kept trying to tell you I was there, but they way you said it…"
Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed heavily. "Oliver…"
His name fell from her lips before she could stop it and she let her hand find the rough stubble of his chin, cupping his cheek.
Her heart thrummed in her chest when he tilted his head ever so softly into her palm. A long, low rush of air left her lungs and she stared up at him wide-eyed at his second huge admission of the day.
The fact that he'd been so affected by her cries - by her own fear twisted something deep within her and she had an aching need to fix his obvious distress; to let him know he hadn't let her down.
When he finally opened his eyes again, she offered him a warm smile as she let her hand fall from his cheek. "You helped...I can't remember everything, but I remember reaching for warmth and when I found it, it calmed me. That was you. I was reaching for you."
Her voice trembled softly and it was his turn to heave a heavy sigh.
His large hand found hers and grasped it tightly as he got his emotions back under control. "So if you're not hurt, what do you need that you were so insistently banging on the door to the bathroom while I was trying to take a shower?" he asked, a hint of a twinkle in his eyes and she was thankful for his attempt to lighten the mood.
"All my make-up is in there," she said, feeling her cheeks flush. "And I figured I'd better knock before barging in - that's never been a good experience for me in the past. I mean, imagine walking in on your great-aunt completely naked, or then there was this one time in college when I walked in on my roommate and her boyfriend - not that walking in on you would be a bad experience. Something tells me it would be a very good one, but that's not really the point…"
"Felicity," Oliver's gentle voice brought her out of her ramble and she looked up at him as a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Let me find my pants and then we can share the bathroom again."
"Uh, right, of course," Felicity stammered before Oliver disappeared, the door shutting softly.
Closing her eyes tightly, Felicity desperately tried not to let her mind linger on the idea of Oliver with no pants...and no towel. She swallowed thickly and felt her cheeks flushing before she took a deep, steadying breath and let it out again. Those thoughts weren't going to help her get through the next few days with him at all.
It opened minutes later to Oliver dressed once again in nothing but a pair of grey dress slacks and a black belt.
A quick wave of desire flooded through Felicity as she took in the sight before her. His back was already turned, walking over to the double sinks as she enjoyed the play of muscles across his back, and she somehow managed to keep her hands firmly planted at her sides.
As they had the day before, they readied in comfortable silence. It was something so trivial but it felt so right, and Felicity couldn't shake that feeling of wanting to do this everyday. It wouldn't be hard for her to let her imagination run wild and picture them doing this as they discussed their day or the latest threat to the city. The swell of desire - that desperate need she could feel to the very tips of her toes - caught her off guard and she had to hold back the gasp that rose in her throat.
She wanted this. With Oliver. She wanted this future with him. Her crush was no longer just a crush. It was so much more.
She was not a fool. She knew he carried a burden greater than she knew - that the ghosts of his past continued to haunt him daily. But none of that mattered to her. When she looked at him, she saw the man he was behind all of it and she loved him - all of him. Every scar. Every broken piece. Every smile that she managed to draw from his lips. Every moment that he looked at her and it was as if he was looking into her and seeing everything she didn't want him to see. Every second he opened himself up and let her into his damaged and warring soul. Every touch that set her body on fire and warmed her from the tips of her toes to her hair. Every single part of him. She wanted it all.
At some point, she must have closed her eyes because when they flew open, he was staring at her with such longing in his eyes, she had to steady herself with a hand against the counter.
His eyes were unusually light and his posture relaxed, she noted, and she wondered if he felt the same ease that she did in that moment.
He gave her a small smile - one that reached the blue of his eyes, and that she couldn't help returning.
His shirt hung open, buttons only part way done, and she resisted crossing the space between them and finishing the job herself. Instead, while he slipped the buttons through the small holes, she reached around him, her arm brushing against his, and pulled the tie from where it hung on the door knob. She felt the heat from his body, the smell of his aftershave, and it was a heady combination that left her wanting more.
Leaning back, she took a step forward and lifted up on her toes, wrapping the tie around his neck and tucking it carefully under his collar. His eyes tracked her every move and she could feel the thrum of her heart as the blood pounded through her veins. It would be so easy to let herself lean forward, to feel the solidness of his chest against hers, have his strong arms band about her waist and get lost in the sensations that he created within her.
Instead, she took a deep, steadying breath and stepped back. To her surprise, his fingers found hers and gently took the ends of the tie from them, his touch causing bolts of electricity to race through her already over-sensitive system.
The way his eyes darkened, she knew he wasn't unaffected and briefly she wondered if her own eyes mirrored his.
Knowing she either had to retreat or become too lost it in all, she spun on her heel, and grabbed her lipstick with shaking hands. It was the only thing she didn't have done, and as she carefully applied the bright red gloss, she could still feel his gaze upon her.
When his hands landed on her back, she jumped, trying to spin around, but he held her in place and as he slowly finished zipping up the last few inches that she hadn't been able to reach.
It was an act so intimate, a long breath rushed out of her as her eyes widened in surprise.
His hands lingered over her shoulders and she made the mistake of looking up in the mirror and seeing the image they created. Blue eyes met hers and, for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
She watched through the mirror as his hands traveled down over the cupped shoulders of her dress to her upper arms were the bruises were the darkest. Calloused fingers tripped over her soft skin and she pulled in a sharp breath as she tracked his every movement. When her eyes flicked up to his, she saw the guilt reappear and she was quick to reach up and cover his fingers with her own. She squeezed them gently, and his eyes met hers once more as she silently told him she was okay. The heat from his touch seared into her skin and she knew if she took even the smallest step backwards, her back would be against his chest, and she smiled internally, remembering the safety and security of his embrace.
Her phone chiming in the other room drew them out of their trance-like state and she rushed from the room, shaking her head at her carelessness. She desperately needed to tuck those feelings back in place and get herself together so she could face the outside world without thinking about waking up in bed with Oliver, sharing breakfast and a bathroom with him, and the touch of his fingers upon her skin.
"That's our ten minute warning," she called out over her shoulder so Oliver would hear her in the bathroom.
When he suddenly appeared right behind her, she jumped, spinning around with her phone raised as a weapon.
An amused expression flashed across his face and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I thought you were still in the bathroom. How do you walk so quietly?"
He just shrugged and held out the two cuff links from the day before. Felicity sighed and took them from him, trying to touch him as little as possible. Her fingers deftly worked them into place, and she made sure to not dwell on how natural this felt.
"Is helping Oliver Queen get dressed a part of the Executive Assistant job description?" she muttered without thinking.
When he stilled, she quickly replayed her words and mentally berated her filter. "Not that I dressed you or that you can't dress yourself, or that you...oh forget it. Isabel already thinks we're sleeping together - might as well add it to my job description."
Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her, and she felt the heat rising from her chest as images flashed in her mind of helping him get undressed instead of dressed.
Shaking her head, she turned and headed for her purse, grabbing her sweater and tablet on the way.
"Speaking of Ms. Rochev, I'm sure she's already waiting for us. Let's go," she said, walking towards the door.
Before she could reach the handle, Oliver was at her side, draping something warm and soft across her shoulders. Looking down, she saw that it was the coat he'd bought for her yesterday.
A smile played at the corner of her lips as he helped her into the sleeves and then reached in front of her to get the door.
"Thank you," she whispered, as she walked through and waited for him to follow.
HIs hand fell to her lower back to lead them down the hallway to where a bellhop was stationed and pressed the elevator button for them. Despite a new set of eyes, Oliver kept his hand near her waist and she wondered if he even realized he was doing it.
It finally fell away when they walked out into the lobby of the hotel, and saw Isabel waiting for them once more. She'd changed from her outfit this morning, and eyed them with obvious displeasure.
Felicity waited for the scathing remark she was sure was coming, and when it didn't she frowned and glanced up at Oliver only to find him leveling his best intimidating glare at the other woman.
The lunch meeting lasted an hour too long for Felicity, and she began to sneak peeks at her phone as the minutes ticked by, unable to keep her mind off of Diggle and the danger he might be in.
Two hours later, they were finally leaving, and Felicity had to keep herself from jumping up from the table too soon. She waited by the door while Oliver shook hands with the Russian board of executives and led Isabel out to where Felicity was waiting, the car already pulled in front of the curb.
On the way back, Isabel informed them that she still had a few things to take care of at Stellmoor and the car dropped her off there before heading back to the hotel.
Felicity pulled out her tablet as soon as Isabel left and began going back through all the plans they'd drawn up as Oliver steered the driver towards the part of town where the gala was going to be held. As they approached the area, Oliver began pointing out various places and architecture types, surprising her with his knowledge about the area. It wasn't until she remembered how much she still didn't know about his missing five years that she began to wonder just how much time he'd actually spent on the island.
For his part, Oliver didn't even hesitate when they rounded the corner and one of the buildings that they'd marked as a possible target came into view. She could see his shoulders tense as his eyes scanned the surrounding area taking in the various vantage points and schematics.
She looked too, noticing the large windows facing out and the disrepair it was in compared to the others. As she lowered her gaze to street level once more, she sat up straighter and scooted closer to the window as a familiar profile slipped among the crowd of people on the sidewalk.
When she tried to find the person again, he was gone and she shook her head, deciding she definitely needed a good night's sleep.
Oliver's hand landed on her shoulder and she swiveled her head to look at him. The question in his eyes told her he'd noticed her reaction to whatever she'd thought she'd seen.
Sighing, she shook her head to let him know it was nothing. His eyes held hers for a few seconds more before they approached the other possible building Deadshot could use and he evaluated it the same way he had done with the previous one. When they made the last turn to head back to the hotel, he sat back against the seat with purpose, and Felicity knew he'd made a decision.
Wordlessly, he pointed to one of the buildings on her tablet, and she knew that was their target. She pulled up the floor plans and passed the device to Oliver while she grabbed her phone. The rest of the ride was silent as they both were lost deep in thought with their separate tasks.
When they were back in their suite, Oliver shrugged off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he began to pace. She knew if they were back at the lair, he'd be working out, the adrenaline starting to surge within him at the impending mission.
He reminded her of a caged animal, but she knew there was nothing she could do to help him in that moment. He needed this time to center himself and figure out everything in his head.
Slipping out of her own coat, she toed off her shoes and padded over to the couch. Settling into the cushions, she brought up all of the information they had on Digg, the missing A.R.G.U.S. agent and Deadshot. Something wasn't sitting well in her mind, and she needed to figure out what it was before they walked out that door tonight.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed but then Oliver was suddenly waving a hand in front of her face. She found herself frowning furiously at the information staring back at her.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Oliver asked, sitting down next to her.
She sighed, rubbing her temples before pushing her glasses back up on her nose. "I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right. I mean, why would Deadshot kidnap Diggle? Kidnapping has never been his MO. And when he had the chance back in Starling City to take Diggle out, he didn't because he hadn't been paid to do it. But now he does? And where does the A.R.G.U.S. agent play into it all? There's too many loose threads, Oliver. Too many things that don't add up."
He let out a long breath beside her and she knew without looking some of these same thoughts had plagued him. "I don't know," he replied tiredly. "All I know is what the Bratva contacts have told me."
"Weren't they supposed to call you with more information?" Felicity suddenly remembered, her head flying up, searching his face.
Oliver nodded, clasping his hands into fists and planting his forehead on them. "Yes. They'll call when they call."
She bit her bottom lip and turned back to the information staring up at her. She was missing something.
Her eyes trailed over the information. Lyla - the A.R.G.U.S. agent had gone missing after she'd followed a lead on Deadshot. And Diggle had disappeared a few days after that. But what if Diggle hadn't been kidnapped at all? What if he was tracking Deadshot just as they were?
Somehow Oliver knew what she was about to say before she said it. "I know. I thought about that but we have no reason to believe that - it's not like Digg to just take off without saying anything."
"Unless he was trying to protect us," Felicity ventured, but stopped at the confusion that settled over Oliver's face.
Before he could move, Felicity laid a hand on his arm. "Believe it or not, there are still people who want to protect you in this world, Oliver Queen."
Her voice was soft and intimate, a stark contrast to the large ostentatiously ornate room in which they sat.
Blue eyes cut to hers and she watched the emotions slip through them, shifting swiftly as if carried by a river until all that she could see was a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty.
She offered him a small smile, trying to keep the tears pricking at her eyes from slipping down her cheeks. It hurt to see how much Oliver didn't believe people could still care about him. He didn't think he deserved to be loved or protected by anyone.
Shifting closer to him on the couch, she tentatively leaned in and let her head fall to his shoulder.
A deep shuddering sigh left his body before she felt him relax and his head rest against hers.
"We'll find him, right?" she whispered, allowing her biggest fear to escape into the open.
A large, calloused hand encased hers where it still lay on his arm. "We'll do everything we can. I promise." he replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"Okay," she breathed, letting her eyes fall shut and giving herself this moment to soak in the comfort of his presence.
Oliver represented a safety to her that she had never known before and she suspected that if he knew that truth, he'd try to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn't be swayed. Her body responded to the sight, smell and proximity of him like no one else. She'd accepted that a long time ago.
His hand tightened around hers and she heard him open his mouth to speak but before he could his phone began to ring.
He stood, almost immediately, and Felicity rose as well, nerves rocketing through her as he picked up the phone, looking at the screen and giving her a short nod before he answered it in Russian.
But before Felicity could begin to appreciate the smooth tones of his voice as they spoke fluently in the foreign language, there was a knock at their door.
Oliver's eyes cut to her and he motioned to the bedroom as she headed for the foyer. She waited until he'd entered his room and closed the door behind him to open the main door to the suite.
Isabel Rochev stood on the other side, phone in her hand as she talked in quick clipped tones with the person on the other end. Without waiting for an invite, she walked in, much like she had that morning.
Felicity sighed and followed her, wondering if this day could get any more complicated. With a sinking feeling, she knew it could.
Finishing her conversation, Isabel turned and regarded Felicity with her usual inquisitive gaze.
"Should I even ask where Mr. Queen is?" she began with a sigh and Felicity immediately bristled at the tone which suggested he was indisposed for reasons other than his actual job.
Straightening her shoulders, Felicity regarded the other woman with a heated glare. "Mr. Queen is taking an important business call in the other room. You're welcome to come back later if you need to discuss something with him."
Isabel's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side before shaking it firmly and planting herself on the edge of one of the over-stuffed chairs. "No, thank you. I'll just wait here. The matter I have to discuss with him can't wait."
Felicity resisted the urge to groan, instead, plastering a congenial smile on her face and nodded her head. "Of course."
Returning to her seat on the couch, she turned her attention back to her tablet. When Isabel spoke up a few moments later, she was surprised.
"So why exactly is a girl who graduated at the top her class from MIT working as an Executive Assistant?"
The question caught Felicity off guard and her head flew up, eyes wide.
Isabel gave her a knowing smile, pressing out the imaginary wrinkles in her skirt.
Putting on her best mask, Felicity returned the fake smile with one of her own. She tried to figure out how to reply without giving too much away. In the end, she settled for a half-truth.
"Mr. Queen is a friend," she replied easily. "And I believe in what he's trying to do."
Isabel pursed her lips, her gaze scrutinizing and Felicity fought the urge to squirm. "What exactly is he trying to do, Ms. Smoak?"
Felicity found a fierce protectiveness rise within her, and she started talking before she could stop. "He's trying to save his family's company."
"But that doesn't explain why you are so loyal to him. To his family's company." She commented, her gaze never leaving Felicity's.
She held her gaze and lifted her chin. "They've been good to me. And I don't believe that children should pay for their parent's mistakes."
"Well, you're loyalty is admirable, Ms. Smoak, but it's not going to save this company," she said after a moment, "It's a sinking ship, and Oliver Queen does not know the first thing about running it. So whatever you are getting from this...arrangement, I suggest, for the sake of your career, you start looking elsewhere."
Biting down on her tongue, Felicity narrowed her eyes, knowing that whatever would come out of her mouth would not be anything good.
"And I know you've gotten other offers - offers from companies that aren't on their last leg. Including ours…" Isabel added, finally looking down at her phone. "I could get you a job worthy of your skills. All you have to do is ask."
Anger rose within Felicity so quick and fast that she had to take great lengths to control her breathing.
Mustering the most pleasant smile she could, Felicity leveled Isabel with a glare. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm happy where I am."
For the first time, Felicity realized she meant those words. She was happy by Oliver's side - helping him during the day and night. While there were times when she longed for the comfort of her IT job and the familiar hum of the servers, she truly was right where she needed to be for now.
Isabel hadn't been expecting that confident of an answer. The skin around her eyes wrinkled as she gave a tight smile and turned back to whatever she'd been looking at on her phone.
Felicity busied herself with checking the various scans on her tablet while Isabel began to tap incessantly against her phone and Felicity had to bit her tongue to keep from saying anything.
"Just how long is Mr. Queen going to be on this call?" she finally asked with a huff. "If this is business, why wasn't I informed?"
Felicity ignored Isabel's second question and addressed the first. "I'm not sure. He took it just before you arrived. It could last a while. You're more than welcome to leave a message with me if you have more pressing matters to attend to."
She gave the woman another tight-lipped smile and waited.
Finally, Isabel sighed, and stood.
"Very well. You might as well tell him - I have things to do. I have been called to check in at our London offices before heading back to Starling City. I'm flying to London tonight," she informed Felicity succinctly. "That is, if any of our assistants can get me a flight," she added with unmasked disdain.
Just then her phone rang and she answered it with a sharp greeting.
Felicity could tell within a few seconds that the person on the other end of the line did not have good news.
With a few swipes and taps on her tablet, Felicity found what she was looking for and tried to keep the smile off her face.
Isabel hung up a few minutes later, grumbling about the ineptitude of half the workers at the company. "You would think I was asking for afternoon tea with the queen and not a first-class plane ticket," she sighed.
"I have you on a flight tonight at 9:00 PM, first-class into Heathrow," Felicity spoke up, making the last confirmation with a tap of her fingers. "I can also try to book a flight back to Starling City or do you have a company jet you'll be using?" she asked, trying to keep the triumphant smile off her face when she glanced up to see Isabel's shocked expression.
Pushing her glasses up on her face, she waited while the other woman's mouth opened and closed twice before she finally found her voice.
"Every one of our assistants at Stellmoor said that all of the flights were booked," she began, lips pressing into a thin line, "How did you find something when they couldn't?"
Felicity smiled pleasantly up at the woman. "Just doing my job. Sometimes you just have to know where to look."
A moment of silence passed between the two of them and Felicity held Isabel's gaze with determination until the chiming of her phone drew her attention away.
"That would be your flight confirmation," Felicity added, and Isabel gave her a tight smile - something akin to pleasant surprise crossing her normally dour features.
With a polite nod, Isabel headed for the door, only pausing long enough to turn back once. "Please give Mr. Queen my message. Thank you, Ms. Smoak."
And then she was gone, the door shutting loudly behind her.
A wide smile blossomed on Felicity's face, and she knew if Diggle would have been there, he would tell her she had on her "i just cracked a code" face, but she couldn't help it.
When she saw movement from across the room, she turned her head to find Oliver leaning against the doorframe of his room. His hands were shoved in his pockets and there was a proud smile tugging at his mouth.
A swell of warmth flowed through her as she realized that pride was directed at her.
"I think that's the first time I've seen Isabel Rochev speechless," Oliver stated as he pushed himself off the door jam and walked towards her.
In his grey suit pants, and the first few buttons of his collar popped open, the image he created caused her mouth to go dry.
Before he could get too close, she cleared her throat and stood. "It felt good."
"I bet. I heard the last half of that conversation," he said and her eyes flew to his, as he came even closer.
He stopped when he was only inches away and if she reached out she would be able to twist her fingers in the edges of his dress shirt, and draw him close with the loose tie around his neck. Her breathing changed and he must have noticed because he tipped his head to the side and regarded her with a look that sent her emotions into over-drive.
"Thank you," he finally murmured softly, and she knew he was referring to her declaration of loyalty to him and the company.
She swallowed and shrugged. "It's the truth."
With rapt attention, she watched as his eyes slipped shut, but before they did, she caught a glimpse of the guilt he regularly wore whenever anyone tried to do something for him. He didn't think he deserved it - any of it.
She wanted to tell him he was worth all of it. That he deserved a happy story - one hundred happy stories even. That she longed to give him even one happy story. But the words stuck in her throat. He wasn't ready to hear those things. Not yet. Maybe someday. But not yet.