Page 77 of Her Pretty Words

“Best friends forever,” Delilah says.

“Forever,” I say.That’s a really long time. Good. A smile spreads across my face.

Daniel’s eyes meet mine, and then he reflects the happy expression.

Chapter 30

Macy

Now

He fell asleep curled up against the wall, as if whatever overcame him leeched all his energy. I don’t bother waking him up, knowing deep down he needs the rest, and I need this time to myself. To think. To try to make sense of why he lied.

I pull out my phone, and type Delilah Wright into the search bar on Facebook, hoping to find some answers. I bite my thumbnail as I scroll through several people who share her name, but none of the profiles belong to Grayson’s sister. I search him next, since he probably follows her, but neither of the twins are searchable. But my search for their mom’s profile is successful, and I eagerly click on her page.

“Aug 2nd, 2024

It’s been eighteen years since we lost a beautiful soul?—"

I scroll.

“Eighteen years later and I still can’t believe you’re gone?—"

I scroll even further down, finding hundreds of posts she was tagged in, all of them expressing their grief. I scroll until I find posts from August 2006. Eighteen years ago.

“I am saddened by the news of my dear friend’s untimely passing. She, her husband, and six-year-old daughter werekilled in a car accident. I am still in shock. I can’t believe such a beautiful family was taken from us. May the Wright family rest in peace.”

I’m going to be sick. I inhale an unsteady breath, trying to get my emotions under control, but despite my best efforts, tears well in my eyes and my heart sinks to my stomach.It’s not true, is my first thought. Delilah, my very first friend in Sanibel, can’t be gone. If she were, that means she’s been gone this entire time. And that would mean that while I was growing up like a normal kid, Grayson was grieving his entire family. And if that’s true, it would mean the man I fell in love with has experienced more pain than I could possibly fathom.

I look at my phone, eyes dragging over the words repeatedly until they truly sink in.It’s all true.It feels as though tragedy has swallowed all that was once beautiful, and I can’t imagine ever smiling again. I can’t begin to wonder how Grayson manages to so much as laugh. I wrap my arms around him and bring his head to my chest, slowly running my fingers through his hair. “I thought I loved you then,” I whisper, even though he’s sleeping. “But ifthatwas love, then we need a new word for what I feel toward you now.”

A peaceful snore fills the room, and I imagine for him, peace is hard to come by. I hold his sleeping body for what feels like an hour. My arms and legs tingle from keeping them still. My heart shatters for the boy who lost his family, and for the man who couldn’t bring himself to tell me. He begins to stir, and then his head shoots up, eyes wide and alert when he looks at me. “Macy,” he breathes. “Oh my God. I fell asleep?” A divot forms between his brows. “There’s an explanation. I’m trying to find the words, bu?—”

I bring my index finger to his lips. I tilt my head down so our foreheads rest against one another. It’s the only thing I can do to bring either one of us comfort. Even if it is in this small way. Myheart feels as though it’s cracking in my chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” I hesitate to say the words, and when I do, my voice breaks. “I know what happened to your family.”

He pulls away, his gaze searches mine and his eyebrows pull together. “You…know?” he whispers, and I never thought his voice could sound so sad. The cadence of it weighs me down.

“I know.” I hold my phone up. “Facebook,” I say sadly, as way of explanation. I press my lips against his, as though I have the capability to take his pain away with something as trivial as a kiss. “Daniel,” I breathe his name. “I amsosorry for your loss.” I try to hold it together, but his presence is comforting in a way that makes me forget to show up with a mask at all. As much as I try to fight it, to be strong for him, a tear slips, and his thumb catches it.

All the despair falls away from his features. “I didn’t know how to tell you. To evensayit.” He reaches for my hand, interlocking our fingers as though he needs to hold onto me in some way.

“That’s why you pretended not to know who I was? Why you called yourself by your middle name?” I try to understand.

“That’s part of the reason.”

“And the other part?”

He looks away, opens his mouth like he’s about to speak and then closes it.

“Talk to me,” I place my hand tentatively on his cheek and angle his face, so his focus is on me. “Please.”

He nods but takes a moment to himself. To gather the words or perhaps the courage. He sniffs and then says, “You’re going to think I’m so weird.”

“I already think that,” I joke, trying to make him feel comfortable.

He forces a small smile, but it’s absent of anything resembling happiness. “Macy.” He hesitates, and then steelshis expression. “I’ve returned to this house for a week every summer.” He speaks each word considerably slow.

Time seems to still with that one sentence, and the silence that follows is sizable. I feel my head tilt, my eyes looking between his as if I can decipher everything within those blue flames. The truth is a heavy thing, filling my chest like cement around my heart. “But—” I shake my head. “I came to your house… There was a man there,” I say more to myself. “He told me that you and your family moved.”

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