“Slowly.”
“And if I become frightened—”
“We stop.”
“If I change my mind—”
“We stop.”
“If I want to be alone—”
“I'll give you space.”
She nodded, trying to believe that the rules could be so straightforward.
Then she leaned her shoulder gently against his.
Caleb stayed still for a moment, making sure she was comfortable. When she did not pull away, he shifted just enough to support her without enclosing her. She rested there, listening to the storm and the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
It was not the kind of closeness she had once imagined marriage would require. There was no urgency, no demand, no expectation that she must perform happiness for his sake.
There was simply warmth.
And the freedom to move away if she needed to.
After a while, Josie lifted her head.
“Would you mind if I asked you something rather embarrassing?”
“No.”
“Were you disappointed when I turned away from you earlier?”
Caleb considered the question carefully. “I was concerned that you were hurting. I was disappointed that you felt you had to be afraid, but not disappointed in you.”
“Not even a little?”
“No.”
She searched his face. “You wanted to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
The directness of his answer made her cheeks warm.
“And you wanted to hold me?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't.”
“You asked me to stop.”
Josie looked at the fire. “I think I was waiting for you to be angry.”
“I'm sorry you've had to expect that.”
“It's not your fault.”
“No,” he said. “But I can still wish things had been different for you.”
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she said, “I might want to kiss you someday.”
Caleb's expression softened, but he did not lean closer. “I'd like that.”
“Not tonight.”
“That's all right.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe.”