Page 56 of For Three Seconds

I absently nodded while I wiped tears from my eyes, feeling drained.

“We made good progress today, Scarlett. I’m proud of you.” She got up and walked me to the door, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

I walked out of the therapist’s office, feeling like I could sleep for a month straight.

When I left, I didn’t drive to my place right away. Instead, I found myself parking by a jogging trail. Picking a secluded section, I leaned against a tree, just taking in everything that happened. I sat there for an hour, maybe two.

“Not kidnapper Gavin, coming through.”

If I had the energy, I might have laughed.

As much as I didn’t want to look at him, I couldn’t help it. Sometimes it felt like he was the sun and I was the moon, but we would never meet. Our mistakes bore witness to the endless gravitational pull. He was in a black sports T-shirt, still in his cleats. He looked bigger than life right now. This was no longer the boy I remembered. He was foreign to me, like a new breed. He was all male, and I was still fucked-up-in-the-head Scarlett.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“You’ve been crying,” he replied as he slowly sat down in front of me. “Why were you crying?”

“I’m okay.” I tilted my head up and closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see him. I stayed with my eyes closed until Gavin shook me.

“Come on, sleepyhead, it’s getting dark.”

His voice was right there, vibrating through me, his heartbeat in my ear. I opened my eyes and met the cloth of Gavin’s shirt.

Slowly, I turned my head up to look at him. His silver eyes slayed me. He wasn’t looking at me like I was crazy for falling asleep. His eyes were soft, and when he smiled at me, I almost cried.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, too groggy to think about the how or why properly.

“Told you I was going to be your friend,” he responded.

“Why?”

“We’re Scar and Gav, just like we’ve always been.” He looked deep into my eyes, and after today’s talk, I didn’t want to do any more insightful talking.

“How did you find me?” I asked, relishing the feeling of being in his arms.

“Isaac was jogging, saw you looking sad, and called me.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I care about you.” He brought his face down, and I closed my eyes. He kissed my forehead. “Come on, time to go home.”

I made a move to get up, putting pressure on his chest, and he groaned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He sounded in pain.

Maybe it wasn’t wise, but I added pressure again, and he winced.

“You’re hurt.” I sat straddling him while softly touching his chest.

“Bruised a rib or two,” he replied.

The air seemed to crackle with energy and got a little harder to breathe, but I wanted to make him feel better.

I didn’t know what compelled me to do what I did, but I bent my head and kissed each side of his ribs. “I’m sorry you’re in pain.”

“Scar.” His voice got gruff.

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