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handsome and nice and funny and good. But oncethat had shifted, once it had morphed, all I ever wanted was for Gil to beproud of me. To love me like I wanted to be loved. To love me as much as mymother.

“More, more than her,” I softly tomyself, reaching out to tap the parking meters on Main Street as I shot pastthem at a dead run. Running to save my life, to save my soul. Running to savemy heart.

By the time I came pounding downFlying Monkey Way I felt like I’d be sick from running. When I turned on to mystreet and saw his big blue truck in the driveway, I sobbed louder. I burstthrough the front door, heart rapid and sickening in my chest. Sweat thatprickled heat along my brow and lip turned oily and cold. I turned in a circle.“Gil?”

No answer. There were boxes strewnabout and some were partially full. But not of her stuff this time. Of his. Mystomach rolled over and I dropped into an easy chair, putting my head betweenmy knees, panting for breath.

I heard a sound in the bedroom andwhen the world stopped tilting I rushed in to find him throwing things in a boxrandomly. His face cold and set, his eyes dark and angry. “Gil!”

“Leave Jen. Or don’t leave, actually.This is your house now and I’m leaving it.”

“No,” I said and rushed at him.

He caught me up in his hands, keepingme at arms length no matter how much I struggled. “I came to say I was sorry.And there you were. With that person. You’re still punishing yourself, aren’tyou?”

“What?” I was so confused and I shookmy head like I was on trial and denying every accusation.

“Your mother spent her life punishingeveryone else for your father leaving and you run around punishing yourself.Over and over and over again. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“You have no idea,” I said and droppedmy arms. Now that he’d said it, I felt he weight of it on me, hanging on me.Crushing me. I dropped to the bed, the tears coming hot and fast. “Oh my god,”I said, the truth so dark and cloying I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And Icouldn’t--the air whistled in and out of me, teasing me but giving me no realrelief. I was starving for air--thirsty, hungry, needy of it.

“Christ,” I heard him say and hedrooped to his knees in front of me, pushing my head down, rummaging andfinally finding a paper bag from a pharmacy prescription. “Breathe, honey.Breathe,” he said.

I tried. My vision going gray and thensparkling white. Terror flooded my limbs and I felt paralyzed, literally. Tearsleaked in a steady stream from my eyes and Gil kept his gaze pinned to mine. Hestroked my bangs out of my face and talked a soft steady river of words at me.“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re hyperventilating and it sucks ass but you’llbe fine. You are not going to suffocate or die or any of it. You are fine, youhear me?”

I nodded, still struggling for air,trying so hard to believe Gil because I knew he’d never lie to me. My fingerspawed relentlessly at the leg of his jeans, tugging in a restless, desperateway as the air tried to tear in and out of my lungs. My chest burned and myface was numb with fear.

“I will always protect you, Jennifer.”He clenched his jaw then and I could tell he was damn near grinding his teethwith anger. “Even from myself.”

I shook my head no, pulled at hisshirt, buried my face to his neck and tried to breathe. Gil smoothed circlesover my back in a circular motion and my body warmed with his touch. He kissedmy hair, my brow and said, “Focus on just letting all that fear go. Push the tensionaway. Take a breath and hold it. Count to four, let your body reboot.”

He tucked my hair behind my ears andkissed my nose. “Ready? Let’s do it together.”

I nodded, relishing that kiss. Feelinghis warm lips on my face. Gil sucked in a breath and so did I. It felt shallowand useless. Like I needed air down to my toes and could only get it to myhips. I wanted to panic but didn’t. I focused on Gil. He flashed his fingers atme as we held our breath. One, two, three, four and then we exhaled, long deep,exaggerated exhales that blew all the stale air from our bodies. I wanted tosay no, not to protect me from him but he shook his head no when I opened mymouth and he said, “Again.”

So we did it again, until my heartslowed its race and my body stopped tingling and my lips no longer felt numb.“Don’t protect me from you,” I said with a weak small voice. “I can’t breathewithout you,” I said and my body ached with my own honesty. It scared metelling that kind of truth.

“Fuck,” he said. And the fear wasback. But when he said it he was studying me. Watching me like I would bloombefore his eyes.

I touched his belt buckle, ran myfinger over the warm flat of his belly and he grabbed my face in his big handsand pulled me in, kissing me. His tongue hot and eager, his fingers in my hair,his cock hard under my fingers. “I’m going to hell,” he said.

“If you are then I’ll be with you,” Isaid, tugging at his buckle.

He barked out a laugh and stilled myhand. Still looking torn and worried and protective of me. “Jen.”

“Let me. Please, Gil. Please be withme. Love me,” I said, more truth opening my soul like  a wound. And now hecould reject me. Hurt me more surely than anyone ever had including my mother.

“I already love you,” he said,touching my face, stroking my cheek.

“Love me with your body,” I whispered.My throat so clogged with fear and emotion I could barely swallow.

He shook his head--one short hardshake--and my heart broke, but then he tugged at my tee and yanked it over myhead. Fingers on the front clasp of my bra, hands on my waist and

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