Page 71 of We Redeemed the Rain

The crazy part was she hadn’t changed at all. She was theexactsame in real life. Curious and magnetic. The way she rattled off thoughts sounded like her letters. Her thought patterns and the way she flowed from one topic to the next was as familiar to me as the back of my left hand. It made me wonder if she’d spoken her letters and the pages caught her words somehow. Her speaking voice was her writing voice.

The bubbly handwriting suddenly had a face, a beautiful name, a bright smile, a contagious laugh. Those were things I never wanted to know about her. Things I was better off not knowing. What we had in our letters couldn’t translate into real, present-day life. But I wouldn’t deny that I wished it could.

The draw toward her was there.

But if I encouraged her to open up, she would want me to open up too, and then what would I say? Where would I even start? The last time I talked about myself, I was a couple drinks away from blacking out and I swore I’d never dredge it all up again.

And I wouldn’t. Not for Bea. Not for anyone.

An all too familiar churning in my gut made my face drain. A cool sensation swept over my ears, and sounds momentarily waned. A soft, tingly feeling spread to my fingertips. I dropped the socket and stared at the bottom of the truck.

My breathing shallowed. I couldn’t even think about my past without darkness nipping at my heels. I was always one step away from being consumed, from surrendering.

There was so much inside me. Too much for any person to willingly take on.

“Hello? Tag?” My awareness honed in on her voice as I swam back up from the deep.

Air filled my lungs.

“Did you fall asleep down there?” Her hands flattenedon the concrete and she crouched low enough to look beneath and see me. Her bun flopped toward the ground with gravity.

My hand fumbled for the socket, grasping the warm metal, and lifted it up into the truck in order to look busy, only for it tothumpdown on my chest, slipping right out of my clammy hands.

She looked me up and down, blinking. “You okay? You were in la-la land there for a sec.”

“Yeah. Guess I was.”

“I’m gonna go. I know you’re swamped.”

Don’t.

I didn’t want her to go, but I didn’t want her to stay. What on earth was wrong with me?

I rasped, “Alright.”

“Call me if I can do anything though, seriously.”

I nodded and flashed her a thumbs up.

As her footsteps receded from the garage, I kicked myself. I should’ve invited her to help me with the riding schedule again. What harm could come from that?

TWENTY-TWO

Tag

Icrept down the hallway, careful not to wake Bea. I wasn’t used to other people being in my space, so taking the extra time not to wake her slowed me down a little in the mornings. Usually, I barreled through, crashing and banging. Now, I navigated around the loudest floorboards.

Didn’t help that she left her door wide open.

It baffled me that she was comfortable enough to do that. I locked my bedroom door at night. In my own house. And that right there proved the major difference between the two of us.

I hadn’t seen her since we talked in the garage. Whether I was ready to admit it or not, the undeniable truth blinked like neon. I liked her company. A lot. And when she wasn’t following me around, I wished she was.

Stupid.

I tried to push her out of my mind and get to the fields. I could think straight out there with the dew soaking the bottom of my jeans and the leather of my boots.

I flipped on the kitchen light.

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