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“It was an accident, baby. I’m not mad at you. It can be replaced.” I try to soothe my weeping mate. But my voice just isn’t getting through his turmoil.
Something has happened to him. Someone has taught him that mistakes must be met with punishment, and I think I know who it just might be.
“I’m s-sorry,” Blake cries harder.
Knowing what I’m doing isn’t enough, I pick him up and climb from my spot on the floor. Carrying him against my chest with his head hidden in my neck, I take him from the shed, his cries echoing into the forest around us.
Reaching my cabin, I slip inside. The heat of the fire should calm him a little and my scent that fills the air will help too, whether he can smell it or not.
“Stay here for me, baby.” I gently settle him on the sofa amongst the pillows, but his hands tighten as he desperately clutches at me.
“Let go, baby, I have something to show you.” I kiss his temple, hating how badly he’s shaking against me. “You’ll like it.”
A moment passes but Blake releases his grip on me and falls back into the couch, still hiding behind his hands.
I rush to the kitchen, opening the drawers and digging behind plates and bowls and utensils until I find what I’m looking for. It’s just a little thing. Something I found on my travels in Japan.
Carrying the dish carefully in my grasp, I reach the sofa and pull Blake’s tense body on top of mine. “Look at this, baby.” I take his wrist and gently pull them from his tear-stained face. His eyes are red rimmed, and his lips are puffy as he sniffles. But his gaze falls to what I hold.
Against my large hand the dish is tiny. Made of black ceramic with detailed veins of gold that run through the many cracks and chips.
“This is called Kintsugi,” I explain, letting my mate reach for it. His fingers run over the bumps and edges. The gold glistens in the firelight.
“It’s a Japanese art. They do this to pottery that’s broken. It means ‘golden joinery’.” I carefully speak around my canines, making sure to pronounce each word and keep the rumble of my growl tucked deeply inside my chest.
“Pretty,” Blake whispers around a hiccup.
I smile gently. “It is. But do you know what the meaning behind it is?”
My mate shakes his head, wiping his cheeks.
“They do this to not hide the cracks or broken pieces but to highlight them. That even though something is broken, it can be fixed into something new. Something better.”
Taking the dish from my hand, Blake turns it over in his. “I don’t understand.”
I lean back, taking him tighter against my body. “It means that whenever you make a mistake, like one of those cracks, you’re not broken. It’s the lesson you learn, and the way you forgive yourself is the gold in between. You’re meant to break and learn to rebuild. This dish would be a boring black dish if it hadn’t broken. But it has been broken, and it’s been rebuilt with something new, something that gives it beauty.”
I press my face against his hair, sucking in a breath to ground myself. “You are good enough, Blake. You’re a dish that has been broken. But you’re a dish that’s mended with gold. And it makes you all the more perfect.”
“How?” He asks.
“With self-forgiveness. That’s your gold. And I’ll love you no matter how many gold pieces you have.”
Blake looks up at me. His gaze burning into mine. “Y-you love me?”
I think I fell in love with him the moment he lied to me in my shop. And then again when I carried him back to my cabin. I think I’ve loved him more and more with every hour that’s passed.
“Yes, baby.”
“Even though I’m like…” His gaze drops to the dish. I smile.
“Everyone is like that.” I rub his back, feeling his body finally relax against mine. “No one is perfect.”
CHAPTER 16
BLAKE
No one is perfect.
