This time I fall asleep too, and when I wake up in the morning, Alex is still in my arms. I smile to myself, then realize my left leg is asleep. Trying to be as gentle as I can so as not to wake her, I shift her to one side, but the slight movement wakes her up. She looks disoriented for a moment and her body tenses, but then she relaxes and looks up at me, flashing me a smile that melts my heart. "'Morning, Liv," she murmurs.
"Sleep okay?" I ask, smiling down at her.
"Mm." She nods, snuggling closer to me, and I melt again. Being so close to Alex, even at a time like this is . . . exhilarating, to say the least.
I start to mindlessly run my fingers through her hair and Alex purrs, rolling onto her side and resting her head in my lap. Then I realize what I'm doing and stop. "Alex, is this . . . okay?"
She looks up at me, clearly surprised at the question, but then she nods, settling back against me. Smiling to myself, I go back to stroking her hair.
The ringing of her cell phone makes Alex's body tense and her head snaps up, her eyes widening at the realization.
"Ignore it," I murmur, pulling her closer to me as if my arms can erect a wall around her, protecting her from the demons that plague her consciousness.
"I can't," she tells me, extricating herself from my grasp. "It could be Liz. Or Arthur."
"Does the DA usually call you in the wee hours of the morning?"
She laughs. "7:00 is hardly a 'wee hour.' You're misusing the term."
I laugh with her. "My apologies, o pedantic one."
She gets up and walks over to where her purse is sitting on the ground. Rummaging around for her phone, she flips it open and says crisply, "Cabot." I watch her pale face turn completely white and she says curtly, trying to mask the panic in her tone, "I want nothing to do with you. Let me be." She hangs up the phone, then turns to me, her hands shaking as she drops it back into her purse. "It was him."
"Come here," I tell her, patting the space beside me. "Sit with me. Forget about him. It's okay."
She laughs, but there's no humor in her tone, only bitterness. "Why is it always 'okay'? It's not okay." But she lowers herself onto the couch next to me.
"We can get you a protective detail," I assure her. "You'll be safe."
"But if we do that, he wins."
"You're more important than 'winning.'"
She sighs as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, then snuggles against my side. I wrap my arms around her, my heart pounding so loudly that I'm sure she can hear it. Having her so close to me is the greatest feeling in the entire world.
We're interrupted by the ringing of her phone once again, and she jumps. I rub her back soothingly, trying to lull her tense muscles into a more relaxed state. "Let it ring."
The fire drains from her eyes and she sighs again. "Fine."
I feel a pang of sadness at how easily and abruptly Alex is relinquishing control. She's usually the one giving all the orders, and when she says, "Jump," we all ask, "How high?" But now she's the one who needs help. She's the one who doesn't know what to do. She's the one who's in a bad place right now.
"If he's harassing you, we can pick him up," I offer.
She shakes her head. "And then what? You can't arrest a man for calling his daughter."
"If he's stalking you . . ."
"He's not. You know the statute as well as I do. He's just calling me. I'm a big girl and I can handle it."
"We can –"
"No, Liv. You can't." She extricates herself from my arms and scoots over to the other side of the couch, then bites out, "Stop trying to take care of me. I don't need it."
I flinch at her words. It's almost as if she's said, "I don't need you." Her meaning is clear.
But that's Alex, always wanting to be independent. It's hard for her to open up to people, and I guess I should consider myself lucky that I got this far. But all I want right now is to hold her until she forgets her pain, to make it better for her. And I know she doesn't want it and she doesn't like being in this position – I'm the same way – but I love her. And all I want it to make it okay.
"We all need someone to be there for us sometimes, Alex," I tell her, but she waves her hand dismissively.
"Don't patronize me, Olivia. Stop talking like a therapist and stop treating me like one of your victims. I'm not."
"I know," I tell her quietly. "But, Alex." I swallow hard, then decide that honesty is the best policy. I've wanted to tell her this from the moment I met her, but I've always been afraid. But now – she needs to hear the words just as much as I need to say them. "Alex, I love you."
Her head snaps up and she stares at me, emotions flashing through those bottomless blue eyes a million miles an hour, before finally settling on one – sadness. And that confuses me. What did I do wrong? And then I see tears rushing to her eyes, which is just as frightening as it is perplexing. I've never seen my Alex cry before! "What's the matter?" I ask her gently, terrified that I've said something that triggered a bad memory or done something that might destroy our relationship, indeterminate as it may be.
She grabs a pillow and hugs it to her chest, resting her cheek on it and refusing to meet my eyes. "Nothing," she says, her voice hoarse, and I can tell she's trying not to cry.
I have the urge to reach out and hug her, to assure her that whatever it is, it's okay. And then it occurs to me that maybe she's upset at my sentiments because she doesn't feel the same way. My blood runs cold and for a moment, I'm at a loss for words. Maybe I shouldn't have told her that. Maybe our relationship is one-sided. Maybe she doesn't care about me the same way I care about her. Maybe –
Alex's quiet voice cuts into my thoughts. Silent tears are streaking down her cheeks as she whispers, "I love you, too."
Hmm . . . so maybe their relationship isn't so indeterminate after all. Do you want to know what happens next? Review to find out!
