Page 137 of My Summer Girl

As if she’s been hurt too much to fully trust me.

Anger nestles beneath my ribs, wondering how anyone could make her sad in any way. “Yeah,” she croaks. “Don’t hold back.”

Closing my eyes, I let out the most unsteady breath, alluding too much to the chaos reigning within. Here goes nothing. I rub across the yellow petals, dried out and smushed on the page, losing myself in the details so I can brave what I have to say.

As if noting my hesitation, her hand covers mine. “It’s not my fault that the pollination hasn’t occurred,” she morosely whispers. The words appear on the paper as if they’re being written by ear. My hands tremble as she holds them with her own proffered strength. She grazes my thumb with hers, almost silently reassuring me.

“Not being married and with children isn’t a requirement I need to fulfill for others.” The words are broken. They’re cracked and sliding apart, like something smashed into their windshield and only the rubber in the glass is keeping it together. “I am wanted,” I respond, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m worthy of companionship and happiness.” The words bleed from me, the little barbed insecurities I don’t let thrive filling me. “I’m not too hard to love or unlovable.”

The unsteadiness of my breaths has the tears spilling from my eyes and caressing my cheeks. Vera reaches forward, her thumbs swiping at them. She looks into my eyes like she sees me. Like I’m not some random person who is greedy and wants more than I deserve, but like a person who hasn’t been loved deeply and mourns for that part of me.

As her eyes trace my face as if seeing me for the first time, she lets out a tiny hum. “I’m a great leader. I sacrifice for my people, and what I offer is enough, even if I don’t believe it.”

Her chin wobbles with those words, her eyes glossy with unshed emotion. “My parents would be proud.”

With that admission, the saddest sound escapes her lips. Around us no one pays attention, but in front of me nearly five yards away, stand the two others I care so much for. They note the sadness that we’re experiencing. Raev looks moments from rushing over, doing whatever he can to erase the expression on our faces. But Vex, they know me. They place a ring covered hand on Raev’s chest, their nails pressing into his flesh. Whatever is whispered between them has the pinch in Raev’s brows softening and he only offers a swift nod of acknowledgment.

Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around Vera. The cadence of her stuttering breaths smooth out as our embrace warms me from the inside out. “I’m not just a Cupid,” I continue, knowing that focusing on her tears might make her run. “I don’t deserve to work and be forced to marry for obligatory reasons. Cupids deserve love too.” My chest tightens with this admission. It’s something that’s weighed heavily on me my entire life, but especially since my sister Xó and our brother Val have fallen in love with their partners. They were allowed to find happiness, why not me?

She makes the saddest sound, but her arms finally wrap around me. The first page is full, so I shuffle it underneath and continue, hoping that Vera can see I’m not just some bubbly person. My heart has pain and my aches are more than surface level. That I’m real and I’ll give her every part of me in hopes she’ll offer the same.

“I’m more than just Di’s twin,” I gasp the words. They hurt. They’ve always hurt. “I’m not just her twin or other half, the mirror image of myself. I’m Dulce. I matter too. She doesn’t define me. We’re different people.” By the end, my words are barbs, sharp, ready to explode and dig into those who have reduced me to that.

“You’re a twin?” Vera asks, her voice less wobbly than moments before. Our teary gazes clash as if she’s seeing me for the first time.

“Yeah. It’s all I’ve ever been.”

Untangling herself from me, I note the smeared eyeshadow and mascara streaks down her face. She’s so breathtaking, she steals all cognizant thought. “You are so beautiful, Dulce.” Not princess, but Dulce. My mouth falls open as something burrows its way into my chest. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s hope, but it’s definitely all Vera.

“So are you,” I return, but can’t stop there. “Raev always described you as regal, a force to be reckoned with.” Her eyes melt into pulls of green emeralds. “He missed such important details.” She pauses, waiting on my every word. “He missed that your heart is massive, that you’re self-sacrificing, and honestly, that you’re hot as Hades.”

“Who is this Hades and does he need a blade to the gut?” she grumbles, and it’s so out of character that a noisy and wet laugh escapes me. It’s full of amusement and uncharacteristic cheer. With the heavy emotions we offered each other, it’s been a little dark. And no, I don’t mean because it’s night.

“It’s just a phrase,” I correct, biting my lip to stop the laughter. “But I’ve heard they’re a real entity and with the stories, they’re surely hot too.”

“I don’t like hearing someone who isn’t Raev or Vex being referred to as hot,” she grumbles, nipping at my lip.

Joy consumes me as I expose my throat to let out a hearty chuckle. “Hades lives in the pit. It’s a place where there’s volcanoes and fire constantly.”

“So, you were being literal, you little brat,” she teases, but her lips form a happy smile anyway. “Well played.”

Giggling, I lean forward and take her mouth. It feels natural to kiss her, to feel her melt into me as our mouths continue to learn each other. “We should burn these,” I recommend, holding the page and a half that the magical words have imprinted on. She leans back, her eyes meeting mine with hope.

“I still have a few things left unsaid.” Instead of responding, I offer the pages that’re covered in tears and words. She takes them, her chest rising and falling with discomfort. “I’m not just a queen, I’m someone who deserves happiness and love.” It’s then I realize we’re the same person who’s seeking validation and freedom. We lead similar lives, forced into duty and respecting those around us to the point they dictate the life we live.

“Every bad thing that happens isn’t my burden to bear, I can only offer and accept what I’ve caused and created. That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be happy or deserve to find love.”

“Love isn’t linear,” I add onto her sentence. “Love doesn’t have to be singular to one person. It can be multiple people, it can extend over many, and we’re capable of loving more than one person at one time.” The time the last sentence leaves my mouth, my shoulders relax, letting me know how tight and wound up they were.

“You believe that, truly?”

“I do,” I confirm. “I already feel like we’re connected, and love can exist at the strangest of times. We don’t have to know each other for a lifetime. Love can start early and flourish with tenderness and care.”

“But, you think I’m worthy of that?”

“Of course you’re worthy.”

Her eyes shut, but not before her eyelashes flutter and more emotions streak down her cheeks. Once more, I reach forward, and this time, I hold her face, the precious one I can’t imagine not seeing time and time again and take her mouth. She makes a little noise and it’s not in protest, but it’s almost like she’s shocked.

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