“Promise me.”
“Fine, I promise,” he says, relenting.
“Ash found me,” I begin. “It was the winter break after you left. I was sitting alone on the floor in my bedroom at home. I was shaking and I—” My throat closes but I focus on getting the words out. “I was holding something I should not have been holding.”
I hear August’s breath catch. But he doesn’t speak or move.
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I continue. “Everything felt too loud, too heavy. I didn’t want to die, not really. I just wanted the pain to stop for five minutes.” I swallow hard. “Ash walked in before I could do anything. He didn’t yell. He didn’t freak out. He just sat down next to me and took it out of my hands like it was nothing more than a set of keys.”
August’s voice is barely audible. “Hendrix…”
“I never wanted you to find out. But Ash, well, he kinda forced my hand. And you keep pushing your way back into my life and I don’t know how to let you in without you knowing the worst parts of me.”
August turns to face me, the movement is slow, like he’s afraid one wrong move will shatter me. “I’m sorry I drove you to that. You’re different to me than you were before. Softer, more confident. A woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to go for it. You are still someone I care about. Someone I want to understand.”
I look away, blinking fast. “I’m afraid you’re not telling me the truth about that. That you do see me differently.”
“I am, I swear it to you,” he says. “Just not in the way you are afraid of.”
For the first time since I started talking, my shoulders loosen and the tears start flowing.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he says, leaning over and wiping a tear from my cheek. “Please come here.”
“You’re the one who’s hurt. I came here to see you,” I sniffle.
“I don’t care, please come here,” he tries again, dropping the ice and pulling me to him.
I let him. He holds me while I cry. Whispering into my ear that I’m safe and that he’s so sorry. At some point I begin to fall asleep. My head on his chest and my cheeks stained with tears. But I feel lighter than I have in years.
Chapter Sixteen
~AUGUST~
Hendrix has drifted off to sleep in my arms. But I can’t sleep. I feel like the biggest asshole in the world.
She almost…
I can’t say the words. I can’t finish the sentence. It causes my heart to clench.
“Oh, Hendrix, baby, I’m so sorry,” I say to her sleeping form. I repeat the words over and over again in my head, not wanting to wake her.
Hendrix lay curled against me, her head tucked beneath my chin, her breath warm through the thin cotton of my shirt. She had gone quiet a while ago— not asleep, not fully awake, just resting, like her confession has taken all of her energy. I hold her carefully, one arm around her shoulders, the other bracing along her back, as if I think I can hold her together.
The room lighting is dim, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights coming in from outside. Shadows stretch across the walls, long and unmoving.
My mind, however, refuses to be still.
Her confession replays in the silence, each word hitting me with a pain that I can’t bear. She had spoken quietly, almostapologetically, as if the truth were something she owed me rather than something that had nearly destroyed her to share.
I tighten my hold on her, just slightly, being careful not to wake her. The thought of her suffering like that—alone, hurting, believing she had no one—cut through me with a sharpness I haven’t felt in years.
I left her.
I walked away.
I convinced myself she would be okay. But she was far from it.
But sitting here now, with her body warm against my own, I can see the truth of what I had done. She believed me when I said I loved her, and then my father told me to leave her. So, I did. That was the brutal truth.
