Reid was behaving as though he needed constant reassurance that he was really free, and I supposed it was no surprise that he did. He was mostly seeking grounding through me, and it was equally satisfying and devastating.
He interrupted our short trip home twice just to grab my face and kiss me hard. As we walked, he slid his hand from between my shoulder blades, down my back, and onto my hip. Then his pace slowed, and he turned both of his hands palms-up, staring down at them, brow furrowed.
I reached out to take one of them in mine, our fingers intertwining.
I was enjoying the affection—I needed it. In a way, I needed reassurance, too.
I’d missed him terribly. In the moment, the aggression and the avoidance and the nasty glares did hurt, but hindsight was worse.
Despite his ordeal
