After a time, hunger overrode my need for Eithan’s comfort. I stretched long and loud as I begrudgingly readied myself to get out of our delightful cocoon.
“Shall we make dinner?” I asked as I pulled away, but Eithan’s grip tightened, holding me in place. “What is it?”
He was staring into the distance again. It was more often me who would get lost in contemplations, not Eithan, and I gave him time to collect his thoughts.
When he finally spoke, the initial words were gravelly and raw. “Promise me you won’t stay in this place, Ny.” His golden-brown eyes locked onto mine, and there was a fierce intensity in them I’d never seen, giving me pause. Feeling exposed, I reached past him to gather my clothes and slid back into them. He did the same.
As I took him in, I realized I’d never witnessed him being somber before.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“There’s no love for you here when I leave.”
“I have Mrs. E,” I said, half truth, half jest.
His serious expression was at such odds with the jovial soul I knew him to be but they paired well with his strong features. He wouldn’t let me deflect my way out of this conversation.
I kept silent, and his frown lines deepened. They’d become more permanent over this past month. He took a deep breath, and some softness returned to him.
“Ny, you’re kind and good and loving.”
I pulled within myself, as if shielding from the compliments.
“Your family…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Your family, Ny, is a black hole that will consume your love and kindness until they’ve stripped you of all reserves, leaving you a shell of who you are.”
His words rang true, unlocking a piece of sadness I usually held at bay, and an ache seeped into my chest.
“Since we’ve met, I’ve filled that reserve for you. And yes, Mrs. Erikson helps too, but when I’m gone…” He shook his head and started again. “The girl I met in the woods all those years ago—she was shielded, snide, and heavily guarded. I almost refused to train you because I thought you already wielded too many weapons. That little girl didn’t know how to throw her head back and laugh, or notice the beauty surrounding her. She was a shell, Ny.Youhad become a shell. If I’m honest, I’d always believed your obsession with Mrs. Erikson’s lessons wasn’t because of an insatiable curiosity. I think you saw knowledge as a tool, a weapon, to deflect and parry and shield yourself with humor and witticisms—not consciously, but still…”
I waited for him to continue, but he simply observed me, allowing his words to steep.Black hole, shielded, snide, guarded. Was he right? I journeyed back to when we’d first met, turning over memories, looking at them through the lens of this unvarnished truth. I dug deeper, hunting for a time when I’d laughed with my family. Never. Maybe a placating chuckle from time to time, but never an unabashed free cackle from deep in my belly—the kind of laughter Eithan knew I was capable of.
That ache in my heart grew stronger, and I tried to ignore it as I sorted through my thoughts, grasping for a response.
“You promised me you would be okay, Ny, and those words haven’t sat right with me. You can’t keep that promise and stay here. Yes, you can endure it, but that’s not good enough.”
As a chameleon who transformed into what I needed to survive, I’d never let myself dream of a different life, or asked my family for more.Thatwas what he feared for me. He liked, perhaps loved, the woman I’d become, and he didn’t want me to fade into the background.
“I don’t have dreams and ambitions like you, Eithan,” I said.
“There’s a difference betweennothaving dreams and neverlettingyourself dream.”
“It’s just easier this way.”
“No, it’s comfortable, not easy. There’s a difference.”
Damn, he was right, and in that moment, a seedling of hope tried to plant itself inside me. I pushed it away, uncomfortable with its existence.
Shaking my head, I said, “I can’t promise I’ll leave.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “What can you promise me, then?” he said softly, as if approaching a fawn.
What could I promise? My mind teemed with myriad thoughts, each swiftly dismissed until one resonated as a truth I could uphold.
“I’ll strive to envision a future for myself.”
“One full of happiness?” he pressed, brow arched.
I exhaled a resigned breath. “Fine. I promise I will try to envision a better future for myself.”
