When He Reads To Me Book Novels & Stories

I look up at him and I tell him, “I have read this book already, I was not able to read the rest of the books in the series though. Are they here?” When I said I had read the book, he looked sad and disappointed but when I said I had not read the other books in the series, he looked happier. He brought the three other books and he handed them to me, “Thank you. So, what books will you be reading today?” I ask him.

I sigh, holding up the third one, which we have been reading to her for the last week. Directing my eyes to the ceiling, I already predict her wriggling in my hold as she holds out her little hands, wanting to have the book. I click my tongue, giving her the book and she hugs it to his chest right away, beaming happily. “Mama.” “Yes,” I say, walking out of the library. “Mama will read it to you.” “Mama,” she repeats, and I caress her hair, kissing the top of her head.

I found out that reading helped me to soothe the voice in my head like Alex was someone that had also enjoyed reading or he had started enjoying it from the first time I read a book. Little by little, he would calm down every time I read a book. By the time I would get to the ending part, the voice would have been completely calm and anticipating the end of the book we were going through. After I found out the trick, most often, I always make sure to have a book in hand to help with the torment.

I said not even believing what I just said. He chuckled, I cuddled into him more, “Did you want to keep talking or are you happy to go back to reading?” He asked, I turned my head so he could see my face, “Want me to read the book to you?” I asked, he laughed, “What, like we are back in Primary school again?” He asked, sounding amused, I nodded my head. “Sure, I like the sound of that, happy to stay cuddling up to me?” He asked, I smiled, “Yes Noah, I would like that.” I whispered.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the room quieter. And then there was just me. And him. My son looked at me curiously, his little brows furrowing. “Daddy?” The word struck deeper than I expected. He hadn’t used it often. I crouched down to his level, meeting his wide eyes. “Yes.” He studied me for a moment, then held out the book he’d been holding. “Will you like to read?” I hesitated. I hadn’t read a children’s book since… ever. My life had been filled with ledgers and contracts, not fairy tales. But something in his gaze so unguarded and hopeful, chipped at the armor I wore.

She waved her fingers dramatically and walked out, her scent trailing behind like moonberries and witchcraft. Knox stood. “I’ll leave you two to it. Try not to let the kid build a death trap.” “Bye, Asher,” he added before closing the door behind him. “Bye, Knox!” And just like that, it was just us again. Me and the boy. He climbed into my lap without asking and pulled one of the illustrated books from my end table. “Will you read to me?” “Yeah,” I said, surprised at how natural it felt.

“You sound s‌kepti⁠cal.” ‎ ‎“I just d‍idn’t expect you to be ok⁠ay with anyone touching your t⁠hi⁠ng⁠s.” ‎ ‎“Most p‌e‍ople don’t get pas‍t the front doo‌r.” He glanced at the book in my hand. “You like tha‍t one?”‍ ‎ ‎“I used to read it to my brother when he was little,”‍ I said.⁠ “‌It’s sad and hopeful at the same time.”

“No. I am not taking you away and I am not a monster. You should sleep and forget about all the stress of yesterday and today.” Her smile worked wonders in his expression, he became a little bit calm and reduced the duvet down to his chest. He smiled back at her and yawned. “Since you would be taking care of me, instead of my Mama, would you read me a book to sleep? No one ever does that for me and Papa is always too tired when it is time to sleep. Sometimes he sings lullabies to me but he has a terrible voice. You don’t have a terrible voice now, do you?” I laughed and Gina also laughed. “Quite the opposite.”

When he quieted again, I pulled up a chair and sat by him, wiping his face with a clean cloth. “Tell me,” he rasped after a while, “tell me about… you.” A smile trembled to my lips. “About me?” He nodded, a spark of life returning to his tired eyes. So I told him. I told him about how I had learned to read by touching books, even though no one taught me. About the way I used to sneak out at night to listen to the crickets because their song made me feel less alone. About Benjamin, kind and brilliant, who loved me with a gentleness I’d never known. About the moment I could finally see, about colors flooding a world I’d only known through sound and touch.

Then, slowly, so slowly you could nearly miss it, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Lee's face lit up like Christmas. She smacked her hands softly against her knees. "I'm gonna read you a story now," I said, as if it was the most important thing in the world that I could give them. I reached over and took up the storybook I'd kept ready and reclined among the pillows, reading the pages with slender fingers. Sami said not a word, he didn't need to. Neither did Lee. He merely gazed at me, his big eyes hushed and wide, absorbing each of my murmurs as though it were song.