The way his warm brown eyes sweep up and down my body tells me he’s noticing too.
"Evie," Miguel starts, his voice a mix of hesitation and something unreadable. "You look... different."
I suppress a smile as I pull up a chair, the vinyl squeaking under my weight. I forgot he did that. Miguel always says what he’s thinking, never holding anything back.
"So do you, but I imagine with a haircut and a little sun, you’ll be back to your old self."
His eyebrows do a little dance up and down as if surprised to hear me chain so many words together. Only at this moment do I realize how I've been finding my voice. I'm not as afraid to be seen as I once was. But here with Miguel, I feel that old Evie trying to rise to the surface, needing to meet expectations.Be quiet, watch carefully, make yourself small.
"Yeah, a lot's changed," I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, a nervous gesture that feels out of place with my new persona.
His eyes hold mine, searching, probing. "Your hair is really pretty. So shiny."
That’s not what he wanted to say. He wants to ask, to know what happened, but he hides the question. So much for being the normal, transparent Miguel. Maybe we’ve both changed?
"Ask it," I say quietly, folding my hands in my lap.
Miguel remains silent as I watch him internally wrestle with either what question to ask first or if it’s wise to ask at all.
"There were monsters," he finally says slowly, as if unsure what this will lead to.
Fortunately and unfortunately for him, I know this path well. I won’t let him get lost on it.
"There were," I confirm with a nod.
"You knew them."
I lick my lips. "One of them. I know one of them," I confess.
Silence settles over us and I give him all the time he needs to reconcile these two facts, simple yet loaded like a gun. His eyes turn unfocused as he goes inward.
The pressure builds in my chest until it finally snaps like a twig. "I never wanted to hurt you." I mean it on so many levels, and yet the words feel insufficient.
The side of his mouth lifts in a wry smile for a moment as his hands flex in the hospital sheets. "I know that."
He says it so effortlessly, as if it costs him nothing to say that. Some part of me gasps in relief, coming out from under the dark stone weight that has been smothering me ever since his head cracked against that wall.
"You... you don’t hate me?" I push my hair back again, trying to reign in my rioting emotions but they are bubbling to the surface.
Miguel’s face twists in confusion. "Why would I hate you?"
I bark out a humorless laugh. "Because I broke things off with you. You were hurt because of me... "Because you know now that I was never worthy of you, and I fed you a lie.
Unable to stay seated with all this energy simmering in me, I’m up on my feet, pacing in front of his bed with my arms crossed over my chest.
Miguel’s dark eyes take me in with renewed scrutiny as he cocks his head to the side. "Evie, you were nothing but honest with me."
I pause to shoot him a look of incredulity.
"Okay, clearly noteverything," he corrects, "but I don’t doubt that our interactions were truthful. You said you couldn’t be with me, and I now understand a little... better what you meant."
I cross to the view of the gray city, needing to collect myself. How? How could he be like this? How can he not hate me? How can he trust how I've acted when I've been hiding a literal monster of a secret?
I don’t realize I’ve said all this out loud until my fingers dig into the window ledge.
"Evie," Miguel’s voice is low and so very serious. "I’ve understood from the very beginning that you come from a place where... where... " he struggles to continue, "others hurt you, I'm guessing betrayed your trust, or worse."
Again, I let out a dry laugh, looking down at my boots.
