Brie

“Shhh,” he murmurs, kissing away the droplets clinging to my cheeks. “We’re together now.”
I shake my head, rejecting an answer that promises only one moment in time. “I have to know that the next time you get like that, we deal with it together, no matter what that means, Chris. I have to know.”
“I won’t get—”
His denial spikes through me and I try to push away from him, but he holds me. “Sara, wait.”
“You will go there again. You will. I’m not about to pretend otherwise. It’s all or nothing, Chris. All the dark, hated places you go, you go with me. You have to trust me enough to love that part of you as much as I do the rest.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“It’s not a question. It’s not even close to a request. This is how it has to be.” His lashes lower; his struggle is palpable, and I soften instantly, hurting as he hurts. My fingers find his hair, stroking tenderly. “Let me love what you hate. Let me do that for you.”
He presses his cheek to mine, his whiskers a welcome rasp on my cheek. “God, woman. I can’t lose you.”
I close my eyes and whisper, “I’m not going anywhere.”
― Lisa Renee Jones, Being Me