No Strings Attached

Chapter Forty One

As they drove toward the motel, the car was filled with a heavy silence, the events of the evening weighing on both of them. Norma fidgeted with her dress, her gaze flickering between her lap and Alex. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft and hesitant. "Will you...will you come by after you're done?"
Alex glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. The gash on his head was still bleeding, though the water from earlier had washed away most of the dried blood. "Do you want me to?" he asked, his tone cautious.
She nodded, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress nervously. "I still have to explain a few things," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Yeah, if you don't mind waiting."
"I don't," she replied almost too quickly, her cheeks flushing slightly as she glanced away.
When they arrived at the motel, Alex parked near the office. Norma stepped out, smoothing her dress as she prepared to head inside. She paused, glancing over her shoulder in confusion when she noticed Alex stepping out of the car as well.
He looked up, catching her gaze. "I have a dry shirt in the back," he explained. "I need to change."
Norma nodded, her lips parting as if to say something, but she quickly turned and headed into the office. She picked up the phone, dialing the station with trembling hands. As the line began to ring, her eyes drifted to the window.
Outside, under the glow of the motel light, Alex shrugged off his wet shirt. The golden hue illuminated the lines of his back, his muscles flexing as he pulled on a clean uniform shirt from the car. Norma's breath hitched slightly, her heart skipping as she momentarily forgot what she was doing.
"Sheriff's station, this is Regina," a voice on the other end of the line suddenly pulled her back to reality.
Norma quickly cleared her throat, her voice firm but hurried. "Hi, I need to report gunshots near the fishing docks."
"Gunshots?" Regina repeated, her tone alarmed.
"Yes," Norma replied, forcing her voice to remain steady. "You should send someone right away."
She hung up before Regina could ask any further questions, her heart still racing as she stepped back outside.
By the time she emerged, Alex had buttoned his dry shirt and was adjusting his badge. He looked up at her, his face unreadable as she approached him with a tissue she'd grabbed from the office.
"Here," she said softly, gently dabbing at the cut on his forehead. He flinched slightly at the contact but didn't pull away, his dark eyes fixed on her as she worked to clean the blood from his face. The cut was still bleeding slightly, but her touch was careful and tender.
"I'll need to clean this when you get back," she told him, her voice barely above a whisper as her fingers lingered near his temple.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Always cleaning up my injuries," he joked lightly, his tone carrying a warmth that hadn't been there earlier.
Norma smiled shyly, her chest fluttering at the familiar ease that had returned between them.
"Be safe," she whispered, stepping back, though her eyes lingered on his for a moment longer than necessary.
"You too," he replied, his voice steady as he climbed back into his car.
Norma watched him drive away, the weight of everything that had happened still heavy on her shoulders. She paced the length of her living room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she tried to settle the storm inside her. Every few moments, she would force herself to sit down on the couch, but after mere seconds, the restlessness would push her back to her feet. The anticipation for his return was suffocating, her thoughts racing between everything that had happened and what she was about to confess.
She lost track of time, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours, until finally, headlights cut through the darkness outside. Her breath caught as she rushed to the window, watching as Alex stepped out of his car. His movements were steady but tired as he ascended the long set of stairs leading to her house.
Before he could knock twice, she was pulling the door open.
His gaze met hers, warm yet cautious. There was something slightly hesitant about the way she stepped aside to let him in, as if the weight of what she was about to tell him made her unsure of how to act. Without a word, she guided him toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead light making the space feel smaller, more intimate.
They sat close, their knees brushing slightly beneath the table, just like they had many months ago, when she first cleaned his injuries. The familiarity of it sent a shiver through her, but she forced herself to focus.
"How did it go?" she asked softly, pulling out the first aid kit and dabbing a cloth with antiseptic before carefully pressing it to the gash on his forehead. She tried to ignore the way his eyes never left her face, as if memorizing every detail, as if grounding himself in her presence.
Alex exhaled, his voice steady but professional. "Should be an open and shut case. Bob and George had a disagreement on the boat that ended in a deadly shootout."
Her hand faltered for just a second, her fingers hovering near his temple as the words settled over her. The reality of it. The fear. The adrenaline. The overwhelming panic of almost losing him.
She swallowed and quickly resumed her work, finishing up the cut before scanning the rest of him for injuries. He looked exhausted, but otherwise, he seemed okay. She was about to ask if there was anything else when his hands suddenly took hers, pulling them gently into his lap.
Her breath hitched as he grabbed a cream from the first aid kit, his touch uncharacteristically soft as he began applying it to the red burns around her wrists. The sight of them, the proof of what had happened, made her stomach twist.
As he worked, his eyes flicked over the rest of her, taking in the way her damp dress still clung to her skin, her bare arms littered with goosebumps.
"You're still in your wet clothes," he pointed out, his voice softer than before.
Norma blinked, glancing down as if just now noticing. "I didn't think to change," she admitted quietly. "Couldn't seem to stand still."
His hands stilled for a moment as his eyes landed on her cheek which was still red from George's slap. "Your cheek okay?" he asks, concern lacing his words.
She instinctively raises one of her hands to her cheek, her fingertips barely touching the skin. "Doesn't hurt so much anymore," she tells him, forcing a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
He studied her for a moment, something unreadable flashing across his face before he nodded. He set the cream down and looked up at her with quiet expectation. "You wanna fill in some gaps for me?"
She hesitated, biting her lip as she pulls her hands back into her lap, suddenly feeling exposed. "I'm not sure where to start," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex didn't press her, didn't rush her. He simply shifted slightly so he was fully facing her, giving her his full attention as she glanced away, steeling herself for what she was about to tell him.
After a deep breath, she started from the beginning. "A few days before we...before I broke things off with you, Bob Paris showed up at the motel."
At the mention of Bob's name, Alex's expression remained mostly neutral, but she caught the slight twitch of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed against his knee.
"He knew everything, Alex," she continued, her voice shaking slightly. "He had pictures of us."
She dared a glance up at him, searching his face for a reaction.
His eyes darkened, but he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.
"He said if I didn't get you to work with him, then he..." she trailed off as she realized this was the moment she would have to say it out loud. Tell him the truth about her past.
Her throat tightened. She could feel his eyes on her, patient but expectant, and it only made the weight in her chest heavier.
She swallowed hard, taking another shaky breath. "He said he would ruin you by putting my story on the front of every newspaper in town with your picture right next to mine," she finally whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
Alex's expression flickered, his brows furrowing together slightly. "Your story?" he asked carefully.
"When I was a little girl," she started, her voice fragile, "my brother...my brother used to make me have sex with him."
She couldn't bring herself to look at Alex, couldn't bear to see the way he would look at her now. "It went on for years. And..." Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to finish. "And I got pregnant with Dylan."
The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears slipped down her cheeks, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for him to pull away, to recoil, to look at her with pity or disgust.
But he didn't.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
The silence stretched on until she couldn't take it anymore. Slowly, hesitantly, she stole a glance at him.
His face was unreadable, his eyes dark and filled with something she couldn't quite place. His jaw was tight and his fingers were curled into fists against his thighs.
But there was no disgust. No pity.
Just quiet, simmering anger.
Not at her, but at the world that had allowed this to happen to her. At all the men, too many men, that had abused her, betrayed her trust, and tried to call it love.
Norma let out a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she continued. "I don't even know how Bob found out," she admitted, her voice hoarse as she swiped at her tears with shaky hands. "But he did. And I couldn't...I didn't want to ruin your reputation. Your career. I couldn't bear the thought of humiliating you."
She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "So the only thing I could think to do was...was to break things off. To push you away."
She forced herself to look up at him again, bracing herself for whatever he was about to say.
But when Alex finally spoke, his voice was low and tight with barely contained emotion. "Norma, I could never be humiliated by you."
Relief flooded her, her breathing shuddered as she realized he wasn't disgusted by her, he wasn't looking at her any differently.
"I'm sorry you thought you had to protect me. I'm sorry Bob put you through all of this, I should've dealt with him sooner," he continued, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of her hand hesitantly as it rested on the table. "And I'm sorry you felt like you had to hide that part of yourself from me."
She took a shaky breath, taking his hand in hers, holding it tightly. "I'm sorry I put you through that. I'm sorry I hurt you," she whispered. "I didn't mean anything I said that night. I just thought...maybe if I could make you hate me, it would be easier on you."
His jaw tensed slightly, emotion flickering behind his eyes. "I could never hate you, Norma," he murmured.
A quiet pause settled between them, the weight of everything that had happened, everything that was said, pressing down on them. Then, after a moment, his voice came again, softer, hesitant.
"You...you didn't mean any of it?" he asked.
She shook her head immediately, her brows knitting together at the memory of that awful night. "You believed me so easily," she whispered, almost sadly.
Alex exhaled, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again. "Because it never made sense, you loving me," he admitted.
Her heart clenched at his words, her thumb brushing over his skin with quiet reassurance.
"I never stopped loving you, Alex," she told him, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to spill over. "I could never stop loving you."
His eyes darkened with something unreadable, something deep and unspoken. He didn't say anything, but the way he looked at her, the way his grip tightened around her fingers, said enough.
Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted a hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. She leaned into his touch, her breathing unsteady as she searched his face.
He was still holding back, she could see it in his eyes, in the way his hand lingered but didn't pull her closer.
She didn't want him to hold back.
Her eyes searched his for a moment before she leaned forward, as if testing him, giving him the chance to stop her.
He didn't.
Instead, he met her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly at first, like he was making sure this was real. When she melted into him, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding into her damp hair, the other gripping her waist.
There was nothing desperate about it, nothing rushed, just quiet certainty.
When they finally parted for air, their foreheads rested together, their breath mingling in the quiet space between them.
"I'm not losing you again," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing his jaw line, the familiarity bringing back that warm feeling in her stomach.
Alex exhaled, his grip tightening around her slightly.
"Good," he murmured, the corners of his lips lifting slightly as his nose brushes against hers. "Because I'm not letting you go."