“About a hundred and twenty-three seconds,” she admitted. “Long enough that I shouldn’t have made it.”
I took a shaky breath. “Jesus, Pearl.”
Bile threatened to choke me. Pearl could'vedied…because of what I did to her. I had destroyed this remarkable woman. And for what? So, I could lookcoolin front of my friends?
I couldn’t imagine how awful she must have felt with everyone telling her how great she looked and how thin she was, when the cost of it had nearly been her life.
She looked down at the wet sand beneath her feet,curling her toes in. “It was a wake-up call. I got help. I got talk therapy. I got anti-depressants. I got tools."
"Such as?"
“I have tools to recognizemypatterns. The lies my brain tells me. I learned how to catch the spiral before it gets too far. To remind myself that food isn’t the enemy and that my worth isn’t tied to my weight or my reflection. My therapist has taught me grounding techniques—ways to stay in the present when my anxiety is clawing at me.”
I soaked up her words. I wanted to be there for her in the present and the future in any way she’d allow me, and that meant I needed to know how to help her.
"What else?" I persisted.
She shrugged. "I used to keep a journal. Not thedear diarykind, but a place to write out the noise in my head. Sometimes, putting it down on paper makes it feel less powerful. Less like it’s consuming me.”
“But not now?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t help me any longer.”
I nodded, my gaze steady on hers. “And the antidepressants? Do they help?”
“They do." She looked more relaxed now, as if telling me the horrible thing that happened to her made her lighter. I could only hope. “They don’t fix everything, but that and talk therapy keep me healthy and functional.”
I couldn’t help it—I wanted…Ineeded,to touch her. "May I hug you?" I asked for permission this time, unlike before.
She smiled at me. "I'd like that."
I walked slowly toward her and opened my arms, letting her make her choice. She stepped in. It was a reprieve, and I embraced not only her but also my guilt. I was aware now that it didn’t help Pearl. I was going to live in the present and be there for her as a better man.
"I know about depression," I told her, my chin nuzzling her hair, taking her scent in. “I know that it’s not a disease you overcome but one you manage. Pearl, I know I don't deserve it, but will you let me be your friend? Will you let me be there for you?"
"Why?" she asked.
Here it was—the moment of truth. I had to tell her, even if it meant she might turn away from me forever. I gently tilted her face so she could see me, so she could see the sincerity in my eyes.
“Part of it is because I need redemption,” I began, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my chest. “But the other reason is…I like you, Pearl. I know you probably won’t believe this, but I’ve always liked you.”
I paused, feeling the vulnerability of my words hanging between us. I felt like a high school boy again, clumsily opening his heart to his first crush, yet I’d never felt the rightness of a moment so profoundly before.
“Do you know,” I added, my voice softening, “I fell in love with books because of you?”
She licked her lips and shook her head.
"I was an asshole teenager. I promise you that's not who I am anymore."
She chuckled.
"Even though I’m engaged to Josie.” I was only half joking. "Why didn’t you tell anyone about your heart?"
"It’s not exactly dinner table conversation, and I didn't…don'twant anyone to know. I couldn't stand it if people looked at me with pity."
"Hey. You can trust me." I forced her to look at me. "I'llneverbetray your trust ever again. Please believe that. I am honored that you told me your truth, and I'll treasure it as I will your presence in my life."
Please let me in, Pearl. Please.