Chapter Thirty Six

After a refreshing morning swim, I quietly have a shower. Rhys is still firmly asleep. Will, Slam and Jules managed to carry him safely from the car to his bed last night. There was no way I would have been able to do that with just me and Slammer. The only thing I did manage to successfully do, was undress and stay with him. As soon as the fresh air had hit Rhys, he became like dead weight in his too-drunk state. I was too scared to fall asleep because I was worried that Rhys might throw up. Fortunately, he didn't. He literally just passed out. But I stayed awake the whole time, just in case.

Exhausted beyond words, I relax to the soothing sound and the warm sensation of the shower. With closed eyes, my entire body lets the water pleasantly drench it. In my relaxed state, I didn't even hear Rhys come into the bathroom. It's only when the shower door slides open, do I become aware of his presence. Pale, unshaven and naked, Rhys stands just inside of the shower with his dull eyes staring back at me. His intoxicated and deep sleep hasn't rid him of any of his anguish; it torturously still blankets every inch of his weary nakedness. Although he is awake, so much despair still haunts his every waking moment. This is Rhys's lowest point. It wasn't last night, it is now. Last night was merely the precipice to his lowest and darkest point.

This is where he completely falls apart.

Not ever taking his desolate eyes away from mine, Rhys solemnly steps inside of the shower. Wearing nothing but his misery, he suddenly falls to his knees with the water baptising all of his pain as he desperately clings to my legs. Falling to my own soaked knees, I embrace Rhys as he breaks apart in my saturated arms. He isn't just stripped bare in a physical sense; he is despairingly stripped bare emotionally and soulfully. Rhys is sacrificing himself to me. He is showing me the deepest and darkest part of himself. What pain and hurt he has inside of himself, he wants me to see all of it. With the water falling down on our bodies, we embrace tightly as Rhys's bitter bereavement is being cleansed. He has tried to be strong for so very long now, he has nothing left to fight with. His sorrow has finally beaten him. He no longer wants to pretend to himself or to me, that he's okay. This is Rhys finally letting go and letting me in. He is offering all that he is, all that he feels, to me. Every broken piece of himself, he is letting me see. He is silently begging that I help to put him back together, because love can do that—it can repair the most broken of souls.

And I will.

I will lovingly put each tortured and beautiful piece of him slowly back together. I will do it because I love him with all that I have inside of me. With the most tender of wet kisses, I start kissing him all over his head, face and shoulders. Each kiss more tender than the other. Rhys cries and cries with his head held low and his arms still wrapped firmly around me. "Stay." That single ragged and broken word is uttered from his weeping mouth.

Cocooning my hands around his thoroughly drench cheeks, I move his head up. "I will."

His wet lashes lift, his bereaved eyes then slowly fix onto mine. "You'll stay?" He asks in such a sad and vulnerable way.

My own drenched face offers him a hopeful smile. "I am staying here with you, Rhys. I couldn't leave you even if I tried. I love you. I love you in a stupidly, ridiculously and crazy way. So, I am staying. I can only ever be where you are. You could say, you're stuck with me now." The shower continues to rain down on me, but with the water falling hard upon my face; I keep smiling at him.

Rhys just pulls me against his bare and soaked chest, holding me as he cries some more. His thumping heartbeat can be felt against my cheek, thumping with relief and hope. He held me like that for quite some time. The warm water continued to fall at the same time as his diluted tears. As the water and tears fell, we said nothing. We just clung to each other on the floor of the shower and clung to what my staying would mean for us.

A deeper love.

A deeper bond.

New life.

New hope.

New dreams.

We clung to each and every one of them.

**

Opening my tired eyes, Rhys's serene face swims into soft focus. "Hey." I sleepily say with a sedate smile on my lazy lips.

"Hey." He lovingly answers.

"Are you okay?" I ask, moving my head against the pillow with a relaxed sigh as I reach to stroke his scratchy and unshaven jawline.

Bringing his lips down to mine, he kisses me so lightly it is almost a lip tickle. "I'm okay." He whispers after his dainty and thoughtful kiss. "I love you, Clara." There's new strength in his voice. New hope shining within his sage spheres. "I know it might sound stupid, but I've written a letter to Maci. I just needed to get some things off my chest. When I write songs, they help to clear things up for me, so I figured a letter to her would do the same."

Caressing the soft skin on his cheek, I smile up at him. "I think it's a great idea, baby."

Twisting around, Rhys picks up a piece of paper on his bedside table. "I'd like you to read it."

Stunned, I sit up against the downy pillows. "Are you sure?" I quietly ask, staring down at the painfully penned letter that he holds between his gentle fingers.

"I want you to read it, Clara. It's important that you do."

Taking the letter from his hand, I nervously start to read it.

Maci,

You're gone.

I couldn't save you and you didn't want to save yourself. I think there will always be a part of me that will never forgive either one of us for that.

Wherever you now are, I hope you hear the words I write. Because you need to hear them, Mace. I write this letter, loving you and hating you. You have left such a painful mess behind. Mom is trying to make sense of your loss. I'm trying to be strong for her and for myself. Then there's you, wherever you are now, just watching us clear away the mess you have selfishly made. I'm so mad at you. If you were here. I would slap you and then hug you. But you're not here. I can't slap you and I can't hug you. I'll never see you again, I'll never hear you again. And for what, Maci? It's all because you cared more about drugs than anyone or anything else. Mom is trying so hard to make sense of something so senseless.

YOU WERE SO SENSELESS. YOU WERE SO SELFISH. You had so much but cared so little, Mace. All you cared about, was your next fix.

I honestly thought that you getting pregnant might change you, it might stop you being so selfish...but it didn't.

Your very own child wasn't a good enough reason for you to get better. For that, I can't ever forgive you. You not only ended your life, you ended your child's life. Mom won't ever see her grandchild and I'll never be an Uncle. You took that away from us. You took motherhood away from yourself. I just don't think that's something I will ever get over, Mace.

But I will try. I have to. I'm not going to let all of your demons, haunt me. I spent years worrying about whether you would make it or not. Wondering whether I'd ever get my sister back. But you didn't make it and I will never get my sister back. Your demons were what killed you. I will not let them taint my life. I won't let YOU taint my life. This is where I have to let go. I know that if I don't, your loss will eat me from the inside out.

And I won't let that happen.

I am here and you're not.

That was your choice, Maci.

So this is my choice. To live and be happy.

I won't let losing you, destroy me. If I allow that to happen, I will lose Clara, and that is something that I'll never let happen.

I love her.

I love her so much.

I care more about her, than I care about myself.

The fame, the fortune...it's nothing compared to her.

Which is why I have to let you go, Mace. If I keep wallowing in my grief, I'll end up pushing Clara away. If that happened, then my life really would be without something that is far greater than you or me. My love and need for Clara is greater than all of my fame and all of my grief for you. It's greater than anything. This beautiful person has changed me in so many ways, in better ways. She makes me want to grab life with both hands and be happy. I think we all, deep down, need to belong to someone...and I belong to Clara.

Maybe that was your problem, Mace? Maybe you never felt like you belonged to anyone? I guess, we'll just never know now.

But I am here. I am alive. And I plan on happily living my life.

I'm going to be with Clara.

I'm going to marry her.

I'm going to be happy being in love and happy being loved by her.

I'm going to do all of that, Maci.

Then maybe, just maybe...I'll be able to forgive you.

I hope so, I really do. I want to be able to one day remember all of the things that I used to love about you, and not all of the things that I sadly hate about you right now. I don't want my love for you to be forever buried beneath the addict that you became.

I think I will get there.

One day.

That day isn't today.

Today, I'm still angry at you. I hate all that you've done. But beneath all of that, my love is somewhere there...it's just being suffocated. Today is really all about me saying goodbye, because tomorrow is going to be all about me and my life. Mine and Clara's life.

I hope that wherever you are now, Maci...that you have finally found some peace. Writing this letter to you has strangely brought some peace to me. I'm writing all that I couldn't actually say to you, that I'll never be able to say to you. But it's out now and I feel better for it.

So, goodbye sis!

I hope you find happiness.

I hope you're with your little one.

Your brother, Rhys x

As I come to the end of his heartbreaking and honest letter, a few tears slip from out of my glazed eyes. Biting my lower lip with my emotions growing more and more in my aching throat, I slowly lift my head to look up at Rhys who is sat quietly beside me on the bed. "That's a beautifully written letter." I can barely speak, too choked and overwhelmed to say anything more as I hand it back to him.

He carefully puts the letter back on his bedside table and then turns back around and reaches for my left hand. Kneeling up on the bed, he then puts my wedding finger deeply inside of his hot mouth and sucks gently on it before slowly pulling it back out between his lavish lips. "I want this finger to always be mine." He then hovers just over my mouth. "I also want your lips to always be mine." One of his yearning kisses proves to me just how much he means it before his lips leisurely trail down to my stomach. "And I want your body to always be mine." His mouth then retraces the sentimental line it has just so feverishly taken, all the way back up to my parted lips. "All of me is yours, Clara. I now want all of you. Say you'll marry me?" His eyes passionately penetrate me, waiting patiently for my answer.

Rhys has always told me not to 'think' but to 'feel' so I do exactly that. "Yes." I excitedly whisper, smirking from ear to happy ear. I don't 'think' about how quick this is all happening. I don't 'think' about what others will say about our wanting to get married. I don't 'think' at all. I simply 'feel' what is inside of my heart, my mind and my soul. I only 'feel' what my answer should be. "I will insanely marry you!" I emotionally tell him, swinging my arms around the back of his neck.

Kissing me absolutely everywhere, Rhys is laughing. "You don't know how happy that makes me." He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my jawline and my mouth...wonderfully over and over. "I love you, Clara. In a world full of faces, yours is now the only one that I want to look at for the rest of my life." He stills above me, just needing our eyes to momentarily lock onto one another. "I will make you the happiest woman alive, I can promise you that." He vows with his gloriously sweet American accent.

Holding his face very still between my adoring hands, I smile up at the man who has put all of my adoration there. "You already do." I lovingly declare, meaning every devoted word.

It really didn't take us long to sneak into each other's heart, but in we snuck and in we have stayed.

Is there actually a time limit on love? Is there a right or wrong way to do it?

I don't think so.

I don't really care.

I am not 'thinking' remember? I am only 'feeling'.

And what I 'feel' cannot be denied.

I love Rhys.

He loves me.

We want to be together.

We want what feels right.

And nothing feels more right than to marry Rhys Ryan.