We sit in silence after Zak finishes telling me about having sex with the woman he previously told me was like his sister.

I don’t know what to do with this, with any of it. It’s sure as shit a lot more than I was expecting when I said we needed to talk about it. Sipping my drink, I let my mind run through everything he just said and compile a mental list. None of my thoughts are in order, my mind picking out random parts of the conversation to focus on. For every positive, I also find an equal negative.

But the one thing I keep coming back to is that he feels like it was a drunken mistake. Should I believe him, or question it? Tugging my bottom lip between my pointer finger and thumb I gnaw on the opposite edge as I think it over. He hasn’t lied to me before, not really. He omitted the truth when I asked about meeting Lulu, but now I know the full story, I guess I understand his reasons.

There are just two things I need answers to. Turning to face him, I speak for the first time in I’m not sure how long. “I have some questions,” I tell him.

Zak nods, cracking one eye open to look at me. “Okay, I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

I swallow down my apprehension. “After you slept with her, did you want to make things work and start a physical relationship?” A battle rages inside of me, one part needing this truth, the other not wanting to hear his answer in case it makes everything worse.

My fear is squashed the second Zak opens his mouth, “No. Straight up I knew we weren’t meant to be that person for each other. Sleeping with Lu is what cleared up my feelings towards her. Until that moment, I still questioned if what I felt was familial love, or romantic love. I know now, without a doubt in my mind, all I’ve ever felt for her is Storge.”

I raise my brows, unequivocally confused. “What now? I was following until that last part.” Zak’s cheeks flush pink and my eyes widen. He just told me something super personal yet now is when his skin flushes like that.

Running his hand through his hair he looks, dare I say it, bashful. He clears his throat, sitting upright now. “While I was trying to figure all this shit out I did a fair bit of research. I didn’t have a healthy relationship to reference when examining my feelings so yeah, I looked to Google. The ancient Greeks believed there are eight types of love. The four elemental ones being Eros, Philia, Storge, and Agape and well yeah…” He shrugs, “Storge is familial or empathic love.”

My breath catches in my throat and my lips part in wonder at his words, yet I’m unable to find any of my own. My eyes lock on his handsome face, unable to look away. Blinking rapidly, my heart yearns to be nearer to him as his truth sinks into my soul, he doesn’t know how to love.

I’m heartbroken for my beautifully fractured man who never fails to make me feel so wanted, so needed. “You were really conflicted about it, weren’t you?” It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s all that comes out of my mouth. Zak is not a soft, mushy, kind of man. So, the fact he felt the need to turn to Google to figure out his feelings is telling enough.

He frowns at me. “You’re just getting that now?”

I shake my head, the other question I wanted to ask fades into the background, now rendered inconsequential. “No, I mean, kinda? I listened to everything you had to say, but it’s what you just said that tells me everything I really needed to know.”

His dark brown eyebrows shoot up. “How so?”

Sadness consumes me and tears fill my eyes, this man is too much sometimes. “How could you have known what you felt, if you didn’t know what love was to begin wi-ith?” I ask, chocking on the last word.

Zak blinks at me, then again, his hand lifts towards me but he hesitates before making contact. “Can I?” he asks, “Can I hold you now?”

I launch into his open arms, the impact of my body pushing him back into the cushions. “I’m sorry you haven’t had the life and love you deserve. But I promise, from here on out, I will do everything I can to shower you in all the love you’ve missed,” I tell him, a tear slipping from the corner of my eye. He rearranges me on his lap so I’m sitting across it, my legs coming to rest on the couch beside him.

“I love you, Zak. I’ve just been so afraid of getting hurt again,” I sniffle, gripping his face in my palms, “I’m still afraid but I can’t not love you,” I smile then graze my lips over his.

His Adam’s apple bobs as my hands slide down over his sharp cheekbones to the taut tendons in his neck. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear, then run the tip of my nose over his face to the opposite ear, “In whatever form the Greeks say means forever.”

“Pragma,” he whispers back, “Pragma is hard work, compromise, patience, and tolerance. It’s enduring love that transcends all others,” he tells me in a hushed murmur, nuzzling my neck. “I thought I’d lost you, Red. I thought you realised you’re too good for me, and you were going to walk. But I can’t let you go, not now. We’ve only just begun, and you’re already the best thing to ever happened to me.”

I blink my tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. My life has been so blessed, I’ve always known that, but you’ve made me see how much I take for granted. I’ll never judge you, Zak. I promise, I will always try to see things from your perspective before I jump to conclusions again.”

He drops his head to my shoulder, burying his face in my hair. “I want so desperately to tell you how much I love you. But, Red, I’m afraid it’s too good to be true. That if I say it out loud, something will happen to fuck it all up.”

How did I not realise how deeply damaged he is? He hides it so well. But now I see him, the version of himself I doubt anybody else has seen before, I’ll never look at him the same way again.

My fingernails scratch lightly over his arm tightly wrapped around my middle. I love the way he holds me with so much tenderness and unmistakeable possession.

A loud gurgling sound fills the room, and my eyes shoot to my stomach, mortification spreading across my cheeks as my stomach ruins such a life altering moment. “Umm, I guess I’m a little hungry,” I mumble, and Zak laughs into my neck.

“I’m starving, but not for food,” he utters. When he draws his face away from my neck to look at me, his grin is downright wicked. A shiver of anticipation skitters across my skin.

Licking my lips, I open my mouth to tell him I am down for anything when my stomach growls again. Closing my eyes, I hang my head and cover my face, “I’m clearly going to need food first,” I tell him, then peek at him through the gaps in my fingers.

He’s smiling so bright I have to kiss him. Then I jump off his lap to snatch up one of the takeout containers from the coffee table. Stabbing into the delicious smelling chicken dish, I waste no time stuffing a fork full in my mouth, making Zak chuckle. “Wha’?” I mutter around the food in my mouth.

Shaking his head back and forth slowly he just keeps smiles at me. “Nothing. I just really like having you around. You’re funny as shit, Red. Especially when you’re hungry.”

I shrug as I devour another mouthful of food. He can think I’m funny if he wants. Truth is, I can be myself around him, no need to act the perfect woman role for him. It’s always been natural between us.

Half the chicken dish is gone when I think to ask, “You want some?” I tilt the container in my hands towards him.

He reaches for one of the other containers on the coffee table. “Nah, you have that one, there’s plenty here.” We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes then Zak asks, “So, we’re good, Red? You and me?”

Finishing off the last piece of chicken in my tub, I plop the empty container back on the table in front of us, then turn to face him. “Yeah, big man, we’re good. In fact, I’d say we’re better than good,” I smile up at him and my heart melts with the look in his dark brown eyes. He loves me. I can see it there, mirroring my own feelings, warming me all the way to my guarded heart.