What she just shared is changing everything for me. I no longer care to preserve myself or my heart. I only want tokeep her together. This need to shield her and never let her be wounded again—it’s unfamiliar, yet somehow, settling. Purposeful, as if this is the exact reason I was made to exist.
All I can see is her—the tremor in her hands, the way her eyes can’t quite meet mine, the crack in her voice that keeps echoing through me. Somewhere in the middle of her breaking, something inside me splintered. Shattered like a glass house. It doesn’t matter what I thought I knew or what I told myself to feel. All I want is to gather every fractured piece of her and hold them steady, even if it means losing myself in the process.
I’m not afraid of it.
To see the eyes that have warmed my soul be so torn down, so lost in a sea of sorrow—it’s something I can’t unlive. It’s something I can’t bear to see again, and I wouldn’t have known it if she hadn’t shown me. I wouldn’t have realized how the switch in my chest had already flipped for her if she hadn’t just shared the deepest parts of herself with me.
The gravity of her father’s statements hit me hard. The heaviness she must carry being torn down like that by the one man who’s supposed to protect her most. Supposed to love her effortlessly, unconditionally.
“Allie, you know what your dad said on that voicemail… You know it’s not true, right? You have to know you’re nothing even close to what he says of you.”
Her eyes dart away from mine in clear disagreement as she chews on her cheek. More tears well in her eyes, and her throat stops as she holds her breath.
“Alana.” I take her arms in my hands and bend my head down, forcing her eyes to meet mine. When they finally do, they’re empty and lost. There is no light shining in the gemstones I’ve memorized. “Alan–”
“I’m sorry,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’m a mess, and that was a lot. I-I don’t why I said all that.” She grazes the tips of her fingers under her nose to catch the drip. Another tear falls, and I wipe it away with my thumb, my palm cradling her neck and jaw.
“I’m glad you did.” My voice sounds thick and heavy, as if the desire to heal each of her wounds is sewn into every syllable. Iamglad she told me. More than anything, I’m glad she’s given me this suffering piece of her if only to let me hold it for a second so she doesn’t have to.
Her breath hitches at my touch. A quiet, broken sound that lands somewhere between relief and exhaustion, maybe mixed with something else. I feel the shake of her breath against my wrist, warm and trembling, and my entire body starts to buzz with an electric current. The world outside of this small, fragile moment disappears. It’s just her, vulnerable and unguarded, and me, wishing I could pull the pain from her chest and make it my own.
I’ve never felt this weight for someone before. This innate need to protect someone so wholly. To comfort them so deeply. I’ve never belonged anywhere the way I belong standing in front of her, on this damp Austin sidewalk in the darkness of the middle of the night.
I study her in awe , seeing her in a new light I’ve known she’s always had. Her golden-streaked hair illuminates like a halo above her. Her stunning blue eyes are piercing into my chest, into my soul. She’s exhausted, understandably, and I just want to hold her, warm her and keep her safe.
“Can I take you somewhere?” I exhale in a deep whisper. She nods slowly, her eyes still unfocused and drawn.
We turn and begin the trek to my truck. We’re closer than we were before. The back of her hand brushes against mine as itswings forward and back. I force myself not to grab it, my hand nearly convulsing with need to fit hers into mine. I stretch it out, extending my fingers hard just to alleviate the building pressure.
We don’t say a word the rest of the way, but I am hyperaware of everything about her. The swallow she forces. The little shake of her head as if she’s trying to escape her own mind. Maybe it’s because I’ve been there before, but I can feel it, her discomfort in her own skin that’s riddled with a past she wants to forget, or at the least, ignore.
When a chilled breeze blows past and makes her shiver, I pull my hoodie over my head. “Here. Put this on.”
She shakes her head, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down over her palms. “No, that’s okay. I'm fine.”
Stubborn, but beautiful.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” I stop midstep and grab her hand to pull her to me. Her eyes widen slightly as I slide the hoodie over her head and watch as it falls well past her hips. Her eyes are ice blue right now, less gray than they sometimes seem. They look even colder against the dark of my charcoal hoodie, but they offer a warmth that overrides the cooling air of the night.
She wiggles her arms into the sleeves, and a grin begins to give way on my lips when they swallow her hands whole, the hem of the sweatshirt settling near her knees.
“I think it’s too small,” she says with a tilt to her lips. A throaty chuckle escapes from me, and I marvel at her ability to create lightness even in the darkest of moments.
We turn again, finishing the remainder of the walk in comfortable silence.
I open the passenger door of my black Ram for her, taking her by the waist to hoist her up before I walk around the front of the truck to hop into the driver’s seat. I crank up the heat the second the engine starts.
The melancholy air is thick and heavy, full of a despair I can’t do anything to save her from. All I can do is drive. So, I do. I drive to the only place I know can take some of it away.
The stars begin to brighten as the city lights fade behind us. We drive down the MoPac Expressway, taking the exit that will lead us to Mount Bonnel. I take the off ramp, then drive down quiet backroads that will lead us exactly where I want to show her.
I pull up slowly until we’re nearly at the edge of the cliff I know well, the headlights shining bright into the nothingness, making it nearly impossible to see.
“Where are we?” she asks, her voice tired, weary.
I flick off the headlights and the ones on the dash, draping us in complete darkness and then set my eyes on her.
She gasps a little, first startled by the change in light, then amazed at what's put into view.
