Page 106 of Haunt Me

“You weren’t a man, you were just a kid, Isaiah.” The way she says my name. “Besides, I was the one who did the hurting.”

“No.No.” I shake my head and look down at my shoes. I can’t believe that she just said this. I can’t handle it. My eyes drift shut, but I can’t escape—not by closing them, anyway. “I’ll never hear you say this again.” I swallow hard. “Please, promise me or I’ll lose my mind.”

“Fine, I promise.” She sounds kind of resigned, and I think I hate that more than anything.

“Ok, ok.” I try to calm my breathing, because I am hyperventilating already. Even though she is talking calmly, she looks like she is about to fall apart in front of me. I know I am pushing her past her limit. This has to end. Now. “Look, Eden, in light of what I just found out, I… I think you need to be with your family right now. You should be with your sisters—I think that’s what we should do for you.”

“My sisters? You—?” She looks shocked that I know about her sisters.

“Yeah, I’ve been pestering them for the past few hours.”

“You talked to my sisters?”

“I did. I called them before going on stage. I’m sure they’ll tell you everything.” I wince, remembering how much of a mess I was when I talked to the girls. Did I even introduce myself? I’m sure I made a complete ass of myself. And, somehow, I’m sure they told me so. “Please have mercy on me when they do—I knowtheywon’t.”

“How did you find them, how did you—?” Her eyes have gone wide. “You were on the stage!”

I shake my head. “As if a small thing like a stadium full of fans would stop me from doing what I had to do.” Finally, I meet her eyes. We exchange a look that whips me back to six years ago within an instant.

Suddenly, the girl standing in front of me is her. My Eden.

“I am sorry for making you stay here when you wanted to leave, but you…I wanted to make sure you were ok,” I tell her, dropping my gaze. “I didn’t want you to leave like that, upset or in pain; I couldn’t stand it. But if you want to go be with your sisters and your dad, you should. You were right, you… you shouldn’t be around me right now.”

“Why?”

Of all the things she could have asked, that is the hardest one to answer.

“Because I am about to break something,” I say and her eyes snap to my face. She’s wondering if I mean it: I do. My hands curl into fists. “A lot of somethings. I can’t… I can’t process what I just found out.”

“I can’t process it either,” she says, “and I didn’t just find out. In fact, I…”

I lift a hand and she stops. Her face goes all worried and I’m sure I look like crap, or like I’m going to pass out.

But I have to stop this right now, before it goes any further. Further out of my depth; I am already drowning. But when I face this, and I will, I will face it bravely and not like a coward.

‘ The coal has touched your lips.’

‘I am unworthy.’

I need to find where this phrase is from. I can’t get it out of my head.

‘I am unworthy.’

If I did not make it up and it is actually written somewhere, then it surely is written about me. The coal of truth has touched my lips. I told her I love her on stage—I said it to the whole world. I know the truth now, but I need time to process it. To become someone she can count on. Someone who won’t hurt her because he himself is hurting.

‘Did she do this to me?’

The question is finally answered: She did not. The person who did this to me did even worse things to her. I close my eyes in relief—and pain. I wish I had never doubted her. I wish I had been there for her, instead of worrying about myself. I wish she had done this to me, instead of the things that were done to her. I wish I was the only one who had suffered. I wish…

“Eden,” I breathe. She is beginning to shake.

She needs time to rebuild herself and I need time to become someone who deserves her. Right now I am not. And I know I will never be, but I can be better. Better than that guy who was completely destroyed in front of his fans tonight. I can learn to stand tall under pressure.

I can do this for her.

For us, if there ever is an us. And even if there isn’t, in the end.

I should be that person.