Page 78 of Escape

“First of all, you did nothing wrong. But even if there had been some grave error you made, I would never lay a hand on you in anger. Never, Josie.”

I nodded my understanding, desperate to reassure him. “I know. I know. I guess it was just a momentary flashback or something.”

“Okay. Are you okay now?” he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

I thought the conversation would end there and Huck would ask what I made for breakfast. Apparently, I was wrong. “Good. Can you tell me why you feel the need to clean at this hour of the morning?”

I shrugged slightly, my shoulder still not loving that movement. “I guess I’m trying to find a way to earn some of the kindness you’ve been showing me.”

“What?”

“You’ve done a lot, Huck,” I explained. “Right from the start, you’ve been looking out for me, and you’ve gone above and beyond to take care of me. I don’t like having to sit around doing nothing, and when I woke up this morning and realized you were still asleep, I wanted to do something nice for you for a change. So, I made breakfast.”

“But why are you cleaning? Your body is still healing.”

The answer seemed obvious to me, but I had a feeling I was going to have to do some serious reasoning with Huck. “I’m getting better, though. I’ve been going to therapy, and I’m feeling so much stronger. I hate feeling like I’m not doing anything to contribute, especially when you’ve gone out of your way to do all that you’ve done for me.”

Huck’s eyes roamed over my face, something conflicted in his stare. “Josie, honey, I need you to understand something. You don’t need to earn anyone’s kindness, especially not mine. And if anyone tells you any differently, they don’t deserve to have you in their life. Nothing that I’ve done for you over the last couple of weeks was done with the hope that you would repay me in some way. I’m doing it because you deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.”

God, he was such a wonderful man. He’d always been such a great guy, and I wished we hadn’t had so many years apart from one another. “It means the world to me, though. I just want you to know I appreciate all that you’ve done.”

Huck removed his hand from my hair, brought it to the side of my face, and brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. “I already do. You don’t have to clean the house for me to know that.”

“I was just sweeping the floor,” I reasoned.

“And you unloaded the dishwasher,” he reminded me.

Feeling the need to defend myself, I argued, “Well, I didn’t want to leave the dishes I’d used to prepare breakfast in the sink.”

He smiled at me, and it was that single look which had those last remaining bits of tension leaving my body. “Speaking of which, what exactly did you decide to make for breakfast?”

I grinned at him. “I thought it might be nice to change things up, so I made some German pancakes.”

Surprise washed over him. “I’ve never had German pancakes.”

“Well, then I’m honored to be the one to introduce you to them,” I told him. “I checked before I made them and saw you had syrup and powdered sugar, which is a great way to enjoy them. But you also have some strawberries and chocolate-hazelnut spread, which is another great combination.”

Huck’s arm that was wrapped around my body tightened slightly, his fingers pressing in firmly at my side. “Maybe I’ll have to try them both ways.”

With a nod of approval, I declared, “That’s a solid plan.”

It was at that moment when Huck laughed, and I was given the privilege to not only see it but to feel it, too. It caught me off guard.

Because while Huck and I had plenty of moments over the last couple of weeks where we touched one another, whether holding hands or hugging, none of those instances had affected me like this was now.

In those scenarios, particularly when he’d stayed with me at night in the guest room, it was always about needing the comfort of his touch to settle my nerves. In other situations, like when I’d walked out of my first therapy appointment, it was about feeling such overwhelming gratitude for him.

But now? Being in his arms felt different than any of those cases. It felt like the two of us standing in his kitchen in the morning, laughing at each other, while breakfast cooked in the oven.

It felt normal.

It felt like this was how it was always meant to be.

It felt good.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. And that’s what happened next, when the timer on the oven went off, indicating breakfast was ready.