“Disappointed?”
“Maybe a little,” I admit, because there’s no point in lying. Besides, we promised that we’d always be honest with each other.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“You don’t have to be.” That’s the truth. She had her reasons for not telling me, and to a certain degree I understand. I can’t fully comprehend it, and I never will because I didn’t have to go through what she did. She has no reason to feel sorry that I’m disappointed. She didn’t do anything wrong. I just wish things had been different, that we’d met under better circumstances.
“I didn’t know how to explain. If you had known I was in Boston, and if you had known... who I am, you would have wantedto help me. Because you’re just that kind of person who has to help everyone.”
I remain silent because she’s right.
“I didn’t want anyone to help me.” Her voice breaks and I can feel my nails digging into my palms. “I just wanted to hide and forget everything.” She blinks frantically, and a painful laugh escapes from her lips. I hate this. I want to stop her, tell her not to talk about it if she doesn’t want to, but I can’t get the words out. And who knows, maybe she does want to talk about it. “It didn’t work out like I hoped.”
“Rayne...” She shakes her head, and I stop immediately.
“I know what I did was unfair. I should have answered you, but I couldn’t. I sat in front of my phone so many times wanting to respond, but I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know who I was anymore, and everything was a mess.” She’s staring at her hands, at her rings. “If I had answered I would have told you the truth, because it was the only way to explain what was happening to me.” She takes a deep breath. “But at some point, maybe after a few weeks or months, I would have had to pretend that I was feeling better. Not because you’d make me feel like I had to; you’d never do that.”
It reassures me that she’s so sure about that. At the same time, it hurts that she felt she had to lie to me.
“But your life went on. Mine just stopped.” Somehow, she manages to pull her knees up and hug herself, even though there’s not much space on the small stool she’s sitting on. “Everything else was moving so fast that I couldn’t keep up anymore. I still can’t. That’s why I couldn’t answer you. I had nothing to say, except that everything hurts.” She gasps for breath, and it’s like I can literallyfeel her pain. I want to take it away from her, but I don’t know how. “It hurts so much.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, and she doesn’t even bother to wipe them away. I can’t move, even though all I want to do is go to her and hold her tight. I want to do something that might make it not better but maybe a little more bearable.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry, I’m terrible. You really shouldn’t have to put up with this.” She jumps up and is almost at the door when I finally snap out of my trance and get up too. In three steps, I’m next to her, one hand closing around hers before I can stop myself, before I can ask myself whether she wants this, whether it’s okay.
“Don’t run away,” I beg her. If she leaves again now... I don’t know what I’ll do or how I’ll go on.
Rayne’s eyes are filled with tears as she looks up at me. She’s so small and thin and very sad.
“We’re friends, remember? Friends are there for each other. Even when everything sucks. Even when you’re sad. It’s okay. I wish you didn’t have a reason to be sad, but it’s okay that you are.”
“I hate it,” she whispers. “I hate it, and I want it to stop hurting so damn much.”
I press my lips together; I can’t answer. There’s nothing I can say that will make her feel better. I can’t tell her that everything will be okay, because it will never truly be okay again. Not the way it was supposed to be. I can’t tell her that the pain will go away eventually, because that’s not necessarily going to happen.
Her pain won’t go away. It won’t get any smaller. Her world will just grow around it, maybe. Hopefully.
If she lets me in, and if she wants me to be there, I will be. I’ve been here the whole time, and I don’t plan on going anywhere now.
Gently, I pull her toward me, and she doesn’t resist. She lets herself fall against my chest. A rough sob breaks out, and she lets herself go. I hope with all my heart that I’m the right person to catch her.
Chapter 12
Rayne
Wildflower Wildfire—Lana DelRey
I didn’t know you could forget what hugs feel like. But after six months without a single one, it seems you can. Maybe this hug just feels so strange because it’s Easton who’s holding me. Easton, who asked me to stay and not to run away again, even though I’m a wreck. Irreparably broken.
I let myself fall against him. I can’t help it; my body goes totally soft in his arms. A desperate sound escapes from my lips. I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want to cry, to be out of control, unrestrained. I’m falling into the abyss that I’ve been avoiding for so long. The last few months, I’ve stood on the edge many times, looking down. But I never fell. I never let out all the chaos and grief boiling inside of me. I cried more times than I can count, but not like this. Not in a way that makes breathing hurt. Not in a way that makes me break apart.
I sob again and again, and I can’t breathe. My chest hurts and everything feels tight. I’m tearing myself apart and I hate thatEaston can see it. At the same time, I feel a strange sense of relief. Because now he really knows everything about me. Especially the side of me that’s very sad. The side that feels lost and doesn’t know where to go.
I lost my parents, my home, and myself. Easton sees that now, and he sees all that’s left of me. But he doesn’t leave me alone or push me away. He stays with me and holds me tight. He holds me while I cry hot tears into his soft hoodie until it’s completely soaked. He holds me while I dig my fingernails into his arms so hard that it must hurt, but I don’t have enough control over myself or my body to stop it. I don’t want to hurt him, but there’s only pain inside, and it has to come out because I can’t stand it anymore.
I can’t swallow the pain anymore. I can’t hide from him anymore like I’ve been doing for the last few months. I can’t pretend I don’t exist anymore. I exist. I’m here. I’m nothing but pain, but I’m here. And he’s here. Easton. The only person in the world who still knows me,reallyknows me. The only one who didn’t leave me alone during those months when I wanted to collapse into myself. I still want to.
Maybe he can sense that right now, because he pulls me closer to him. So close that I can feel his heart beating under my cheek, fast and hard but steady. His hands on my back are large and warm as he strokes my tense muscles in circular motions, and slowly, very slowly, I start breathing normally again. At least normally enough that I don’t feel like I’m suffocating anymore.
