“Oh, okay,” she sounds wounded, as if those words slashed her skin and made her bleed.
I don’t need to turn the corner and see that she is hurt.
From the sound of it, she was looking forward to spending time with Heath, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t want to talk to her or be near her.
This hatred is different—I didn’t know there are various kinds. Heath doesn’t want to physically or emotionally hurt her. He just wants to stay away from her and keep adding distance between them.
Her steps recede and the distance between them increases.
When she’s gone, he grabs my hand and leads me to his room.
The lock clicks and he slumps against the door like the weight has been lifted off his shoulders. The tightness to his face and the anger in his eyes are present as he stares past me at the windows.
Putting my bag and the stuff on the floor, I near him.
“Are you okay?” I don’t know why I ask him when I already know the answer.
He isn’t okay.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, bending down his head so that his face is tucked in the crook of my neck. For a long moment he doesn’t say a word and just breathes. With each inhale and exhale I feel his breath brush against the sensitive places of my skin—ones I didn’t even know about—and I try to suppress a shiver.
“You don’t look fine,” I say.
I reach up and tangle my fingers into his hair. The strands are soft and rough in places, exactly like him.
Heath doesn’t reply. Instead, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him. Our fronts are pressed, and I’m infused in his warm and solid body.
“I will be, because you’re here,” he tells me.
A blissful feeling blooms inside of me.
I’ve never been a source of someone’s comfort—I’ve never beenanythingmuch to anyone really. When you’ve led a lonely life you start to wonder your place in the world. I always thought mine didn’t exist. But being here with him, I realize I do have a place and it’s beside him.
In the past months I’ve only seen him beingmyrock where I could land and crash and he’d put me back together. But now I’m starting to see that perhaps I can be his rock too. I can be place where he runs to cry and let it all out.
“She was your mom.”
“Yes.”
“When did she get here?”
“This weekend. She came with my dad who got me out and took care of the case. He’s the reason why I’m not going to trial and facing a new set of fucking problems.” He pauses. “They said that they are moving back, but I don’t believe them. They’ll leave like they always do.”
“What will you do if they stay?”
Heath hugs me tight. “Be very fucking mean to them so they leave.”
“Do you really want that?”
“Yes. I don’t want them here.”
“Your mom seemed nice.”
Heath chuckles dryly and pulls away from me to look me in the eye. “She left me.”
Disappointment, anger and sadness swirl in his gaze and for the first time I see a glimpse of his vulnerability in full force. Most of the time he keeps his emotions locked and hiddenunder his hard exterior but there are moments when they break through and escape.
I live for those moment because I get to know him more.
