Page 30 of If Only You Hurt

“I’m thinking of taking a break from my photography and focusing on some local work instead. My last trip was draining, and I want to be close to home for a little bit. After this next assignment, I have a break and I think I’m going to stay in the city and see how it feels.”

She isn’t looking at me, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her, but she nods, waiting for me to continue.

“With that, I wanted to give us a go. Take what we have together and see where it goes. I know we’ve skirted around this topic, but I really want to be all in by being close by.”

This causes her to stop, and she pulls her hand out of mine and looks up at me.

“Um, so you want to be together together? Are you afraid we’ll ruin a good thing?”

Her words throw me off balance. Ruin a good thing? Who said making things official between us would ruin anything? Would being with me romantically be so bad? We’re already sleeping together, and not dating other people. My confusion is evident as I furrow my brows at her.

“Laney, I think we’ve crossed that line already. It seems like the next logical step. Plus, why would anything be ruined? It could be better than we both imagined.” My voice is tight, finding it hard to hide how hurtful her assumptions about us are when I’m trying to put my heart on the line for her.

“Grant,” she pinches the bridge of her nose, probably barely getting a good grip through her thick gloves, and closes her eyes, seemingly annoyed by this conversation, “I think it will complicate things to take what we have a step further.”

I can’t help the stab of pain from her words.

“Laney, we deserve to be happy. You can’t keep pushing something this good away. We work together on so many levels. Why is that so bad?”

“You don’t get it, Grant. You don’t know what it’s like to hurt the way I do. If only you hurt the way I do, then you’d understand that my cautiousness comes from somewhere deeper. I can’t risk losing you, losing us. It’s the only thing that keeps me feeling like myself. It’s the only tie I feel toward the person I once was before everything went to shit.”

We’re completely idle, standing on the empty sidewalk, having a very deep conversation in the middle of winter. However, the cold of the winter is forgotten as I feel my blood boil from the fact she won’t even consider being with me beyond this friends-with-benefits situation I’ve once again started up with her.

“Laney, maybe I haven’t hurt like you have throughout the years, but I have felt pain watching you suffer. Why do you think I haven’t said anything about my feelings? I want this, but I never wanted to push you.”

I see the determination in those emerald eyes of hers. She’s straightening her spine, ready to ground her feet into the pavement to prove her point that she can’t fathom a life with me beyond our friendship.

“Yeah, well, there’s more to it. There’s more to the pain I’ve dealt with all these years. You won’t understand. You don’t get it. I've carried it for both of us so you wouldn't live life hurting the way I have.”

“What else do I need to get, Laney? If it’s so complicated, make it less complicated for me. Make me understand.” I throw my arms up, my voice raised with frustration.

I hate the shock that crosses her features as I try to calm myself down. I never raise my voice at her. I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, I feel myself calm just enough to continue speaking to her.

“I get it. You lost your friend that day in the most horrific way. You lost a lot of trust in the world. I get that, and I want to stand with you. But I feel like, as a friend, that’s not the only way I can show my support. I love you, Lane. I love you beyond anything I’ve felt for another person. You’re it, Laney. You’re the person I want forever with. Stop fighting this.”

I feel the tears pool in my eyes. My emotions are coming to the surface, and unlike the last eleven years, I’m not going to push them aside. I deserve to feel happiness too.

“You don’t get it, Grant!” Now, her voice is raised, her frustration evident in her tone. “I didn’t just lose Artie that day! I lost a piece of myself. I lost a part of me I will never get back.”

She storms off, apparently done with this conversation, but I’m not having it. I deserve answers. I deserve more than her pushing me away, the shooting being at the forefront of my reasons for keeping my personal feelings aside. But now I feel determined because if I don’t have this conversation now, I’ll live my life with regret, and I don’t need more of that sitting on my shoulders.

I have, since that phone call before she entered that hell on campus, regretted the fact I just didn’t confess my feelings to her right then. Since that dreadful day, I’ve held my truth close to my chest because I never wanted to confront my feelings.

I move toward her, my steps eating the distance between us physically, but emotionally, I know she’s much further than I’d like.

“Laney, what the hell do you want from me? I have given you time. I’ve given you my best, and you’re just tossing me aside? For what? What are you waiting for? Something better? Because let me tell you something, I have searched all over and no one amounts to you! Don’t you get that?” I go to grab her hand to pull her attention back onto me.

She turns and pulls her hand away, acting like my touch hurts her. That act alone hurts me to my core.

“Grant! Fuck! I lost myself that day. Literally lost myself in a way that scares me. You don’t get it because I never told you.”

Tears are falling down her cheeks, and I’m stunned by her words.

“You didn’t tell me what?” I can’t help the confusion lacing my words. What could she be referring to? We tell each other everything.

She looks up toward the heavens, closing her eyes and letting the tears fall into her hair. She then rights herself, her gaze firmly on mine.

“That day, I didn’t just lose a friend. I didn’t just lose my innocence. I lost us, Grant. I was pregnant, and I lost the baby.”

---